Magic? || Years 5-7

Fenrir Greyback: Year 6

 "So Snape was offering to help him? He was definitely offering to help him?"

Amisty was spending the holidays at the Burrow while Hermione left for her parents' house. Harry had just finished telling them about what he'd overheard Snape and Malfoy talking about in the empty classroom the night of the party. It came as no surprise to Amisty, however, that Malfoy had some sort of mission going on.

"If you ask that once more," Harry said threateningly, "I'm going to stick this sprout - "

"Harry!" Amisty exclaimed, flicking a stray sprout into his hair.

"I'm only checking!" Ron said quickly.

The three of them were peeling sprouts for Mrs. Weasley, everyone elsewhere in the house. It had a warm, cheery atmosphere, snow drifting down outside.

"Yes, Snape was offering to help him!" Harry flicked a sprout back in revenge, scowling at Amisty. "He said he'd promised Malfoy's mother to protect him, that he'd made an Unbreakable Oath or something - "

"An Unbreakable Vow?" Ron blinked. "Nah, he can't have. . . Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Harry replied. "Why, what does it mean?"

"Well, you can't break an Unbreakable Vow. . ."

"I'd worked that much out for myself, funnily enough," Harry said. "What happens if you break it, then?"

"You die," Ron said. "Fred and George tried to get me to make one when I was about five. I nearly did too, I was holding hands with Fred and everything when Dad found us. He went mental. Only time I've ever seen Dad as angry as Mum. Fred reckons his left buttock has never been the same since."

Amisty snorted.

"Yeah, well, passing over Fred's left buttock - "

"I beg your pardon?" Fred said as the twins walked into the kitchen.

She choked, turning away from the chopping board so she didn't cough-laugh all over their vegetables.

"Aah, George, look at this. They're using knives and everything," Fred pressed a hand to his chest, pouting. "Bless them."

Ron pulled a face, "I'll be seventeen in two and a bit months' time and then I'll I'll be able to do it by magic!"

"But meanwhile," George sat down at the kitchen table, kicking up his feet so his chair balanced on two legs, "we can enjoy watching you demonstrate the correct use of a - whoops-a-daisy!"

Amisty winced as Ron's knife slipped, nicking his thumb.

"You made me do that!" Ron said angrily. "You wait, when I'm seventeen - "

"I'm sure you'll dazzle us all with hitherto unsuspected magical skills," Fred agreed around a yawn, easily flicking away Amisty's sprout.

"And speaking of hitherto unsuspected skills, Ronald," George butted in, knocking down his own sprout, "what is this we hear from Ginny about you and a young lady called - unless our information is faulty - Lavender Brown?"

Turning back to the cutting board, Amisty hoped her expression of distaste wasn't as obvious as it felt.

Ron, in turn, went pink as he turned around, "Mind your own business."

"What a snappy retort," Fred said breezily. "I really don't know how you think of them. No, what No, what we wanted to know was. . . how did it happen?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Did she have an accident or something?"

"What?"