Chapter twenty-one: Bellatrix and Snape

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Chapter twenty-one:

Hermione gasped and put a hand to her mouth; Ron gasped; Harry looked away.

"A Dark Mark," Ron whispered.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you guys earlier. . . ."

Hermione pulled my sleeve back over my arm. When I raised an eyebrows, she just shook her head. I guessed she didn't want to see it; I didn't either, but I wasn't exactly given a choice, now was I?

"Does the Order know?" Ron asked.

I nodded.

"Who else?" Hermione said.

"Draco, Dumbledore, and Snape," I said.

"Bella, why didn't you tell us?" Hermione whispered.

"I didn't want you to think of me as 'one of them' because I'm not."

"We wouldn't think that," Ron said.

"Draco did," I said, sighing.

"Malfoy's a git," Ron said, forgetting Draco was my cousin. "Oh sorry," he said hurriedly, after catching a look from Hermione.

"No, it's fine," I said.

"Harry?" Hermione said.

There was no reply from our fourth companian. "Harry?" Ron tried.

But Harry still didn't turn.

"Harry, turn around," I said.

Finally Harry turned and he was . . .  smiling?

"What're smiling about?" I snapped at him.

"You finally told," he replied, his grin getting wider (as if it could).

"You," I said, breaking into a smile, "are the weirdest person I've ever met."

Hermione and Ron finally smiled.

Twenty minutes later I had to go back to Snape's quarters, so I said good-bye to my friends and left for Snape's. As I entered the classroom (to see if Snape was in there) I heard talking in Snape's office. As I neered the door, I realized it was Snape and Umbridge.

"It is a highly difficult potion," Snape argued.

"And yet, you are a potions master and cannot make it?" replied Umbridge.

"I can make it!" snarled Snape.

"Then do it," came Umbridge's high-pitched, girly voice. I hid in the shadows as she walked out of the room, smiling the entire way. Then I walked into Snape's office.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"None of your bussiness," Snape said coolly.

"Whatever," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Was there something you wanted?" Snape snapped.

"Maybe," I said.

"Then what was it?" he said.

"How much trouble would I get in if I told two more people might know my story?" I stared into a jar of something.

For a second Snape didn't reply. Then he said, "Please tell me Granger and Weasley don't know."

"Okay," I said, picking up the jar.

"'Okay,' what?"

"I won't tell you."


"I said I wouldn't tell you," I reasoned.