I specifically remember saying that it was a bad idea.
"C'mon, Teddy! Don't be such a baby!" You taunted. It's your fault. I don't care how much you try to convince me otherwise.
I knew that trying to start the fireplace the muggle way would end badly. I told you that it would be easy, a simple spell, incendio!, and we'd have a nice, warm fire in front of which we could snuggle. You wouldn't have that though. You smiled at me and whispered in my ear that you wanted a fire I built with my own hands.
I knew it was a bad idea, but I'm helpless against your smile.
So, I maintain that it was not my fault that the cabin accidentally caught fire. Granted, I might have been a bit too ambitious with my use of newspapers to help start the fire, but I blame you for not knowing how to use that fire extinguisher thingy.
I was fully prepared to make you tell Uncle Harry that we burned the cabin down, but you frowned at me and you looked so sad that I couldn't ask you to. Even though I will continue to claim that the fire was entirely your fault, I'll be the one to break the news to him that we destroyed his cabin.
I do, however, expect that you'll explain what happened to the motorcycle that was in the shed. I told you that trying to learn how to drive it was a bad idea.