❝I'm in a box. But I'm the one who locked me in, suffocating. And I'm running out of oxygen.❞
( deathly hallows )
( plot credit: -patronus )
( r. allen book one )
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN. EXPLAIN NOW
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They didn't look at her as they buried Dobby. Rosalie didn't blame them, she knew that when night fell that she would leave anyways, run because she had betrayed the Death Eaters, and that practically guaranteed her death. But the burial of Dobby....it was quiet, it was nice. They got a shovel and began to dig a grave, Harry carved into a piece of wood a tombstone and he gave a great eulogy. The only one who hadn't attended the funeral was Hermione, who was too weak to stand for so long.
Rosalie stayed in the back for the ceremony, feeling disgusted with herself and the mark she bared on her arm. Once it was over, only Ron gave her a glance, but it wasn't even that - it was a glare. He looked at her with disgust, much like how she felt about herself.
And they went back inside, Rosalie sitting down on the couch as everyone around her grew tense, not trusting her with this new information of her loyalties. Or, fake loyalties. Ron spoke first, and he didn't bother trying to hide his anger.
"How long?" that was all, like he couldn't handle speaking to her, like it physically pained him.
"Two...three years maybe," she muttered, feeling ashamed with herself as she looked down at her hands.
"Why?" it was Harry that time, "Why would you help them when they kill innocent people? Why would you do that?"
She looked up at him with her own anger this time, "It's not like I wanted to! It wasn't my original plan! But it was the only way."
"Only way for what? To enact revenge on everyone who didn't become your friend during Hogwarts? Newsflash, Rosalie, you were the one who never tried to speak to anyone." Ouch. Full name. Ron was angry - truly angry.
"No," Rosalie shook her head, her voice shaky, "No. It wasn't that. I know what you think...but it's not that."
"Then what is it?" Harry asked, raising his voice before Bill Weasley, the older brother of Ron, told him to keep his voice down. They had guests upstairs, after all.
Rosalie didn't want to tell them. They would think it was a lie, even if it were the truth. But what other choice did she have? There was no lie to tell. No lie they would believe. "Dumbledore asked me to."
The air grew still, tension eased only slightly before building again. "What?" was all that Harry could muster, not trusting himself to lash out again.
"Dumbledore asked me to," she said again, her voice growing loud enough for everyone who didn't hear before listen.
"Why? Why would he do that?" Harry asked with a bitter tone, "Why would he choose you to do this out of everyone else? It doesn't make any sense."
