Quick footsteps splatter through the dirty slush that covers the dark streets and alleys of London. A mans voice is ordering someone to stop, but the click-clacking of her heels show that she has no intention to do so.

"EXPELLIARMUS," he yells and the woman is smacked against the wall.

He pulls her up by her collar and pushes her against the stone wall. They look at each other, both with an intense glare, filled with loathing and hatred. He takes a step back and pulls out his wand.

"There is no need to murder me, Mr. Weasley," she says coldly.

"Could you explain to me then, how it comes that my sister has been put into the hospital after being Obliviated into Merlin-knows-where. She doesn't even recognise her own family. Tell me, how you did not participate in this event."

It was clear to her that a conversation was out of the question. She had been so foolish, showing herself at such a public Muggle event. Yet, she had to try to somehow contact her own family, if there was something…

"I did not have a choice."

"You're telling me that Mrs. Right-Hand of Voldemort didn't have a say in this?" he shouts surprised. He can't hide the fact that he's surprised to be saying his name out loud, he was raised to use the 'other' term.

"Believe me when I say that it isn't just your life that is on the line. Or your family for that matter, we both have people we wish to protect. I'd rather keep mine safe, if they are for that matter," she says, followed by a nervous chuckle, "sure you see the logic in that."

Even now, she had the confidence that somehow her husband was going to swoop in and save her. Her wand laying somewhere in the near-melted snow and little ability to cast a spell just by mind, she had to have faith.

"I'm sure you have nothing to fear," he scowls.

"Nothing to fear?" she blurted out, "I have lived in fear ever since Lucius joined the Deatheaters, fear that increased through the years. Families of his followers found dead, their wives tortured, my sister thrown into Azkaban. My own son joining the people I despise. You tell me again I have nothing to fear. I'm terrified every minute."

She didn't really know why she was saying the things she said to this boy, who was merely half her age. Trying to make him understand. Understand, she laughed on the inside, no one could.

He was silent for a minute and lowered his wand a bit, yet the hate was still glistering in his eyes.

"It doesn't explain why you would trap an innocent girl like that. Sure, if what you say is true, you would have grasped the things that would follow. You've got Aurors looking for you woman, how could you expect I wouldn't find you."

"Eventually someone of you would. You come in large numbers."

It was true. She had figured from the beginning that the Weasley's would have wanted a personal payback for the immobilisation of their daughter, she hadn't figured it would have been the person standing in front of her right this moment.

"Why her?" he asks.

"You know why," she replies sadly.

And he did. His sister had merely been a tool to drive Harry Potter into despair, it didn't matter that the boy had broken up with her at the end of his sixth year, they were still in love. And that love was used against him.

"She has been used against Potter, much like my love for my husband and son have been used against me on several occasions. Every time I hope it will be the last time, but it never ends…"

"It will," he says determined and lifts his wand.

Five minutes later he was still staring at the wall she had been standing against, the place now abandoned. He had let her walk away.

Weasleys, always infamous for their bloodtraiting.

Ron Weasley now betrayed his own blood.