Severus Snape's perfect escape was thwarted by a house elf. Kreacher, no less. He was embarrassed, which made him angry. He didn't want to be travelling about with the bulk of the worst wizards he'd ever laid eyes on. He needed to be stealthy, to move from shadow to shadow without being even a rumor. He gazed about the room, meeting each member of this so-called Order, and closed his eyes in disgust. Out of the lot, he trusted only three of them.
Neville Longbottom was his worst student, but he had never seen such a gifted wizard. It was time for him to stop tormenting the boy, and show him what magic he truly harnessed. Luna Lovegood would be the perfect person to help him unleash this strength, and would be necessary to keep the boy's ego in check. Molly Weasely had destroyed Bellatrix Lestrange as though latter was a first year at Hogwarts. He knew he needed just two more to do what needed to be done. The rest, for all he cared, could lounge about this Burrow until it collapsed upon them.
He despised the house elf who still had a grasp of his ear. Rubeus Hagrid was the biggest waste of space, and Snape was sure the giant would get them all killed with some cute poisonous creature that was vastly misunderstood. Any strength Aberforth had died out with his brother, and he was as useful as a lit Floo-Networked fireplace. Snape's eye caught Arthur, who was staring into a blank corner of the room as though a person with two heads was standing there.
"Every few weeks," Snape whipped his head around to see Percy Weasley baring down on him, "an attempt is made on Voldemort's life."
Severus turned once more toward Arthur.
"Listen to me," Percy hissed.
"Do you think I care about that monster's life, Weasley?" Snape mocked Percy's tone when he spoke his name.
Percy pointed toward the window, "He's out there. Voldemort is out there, hunkered down in some cold room at Gringott's. People think he's the one in charge. People think he's controlling these murders of Muggles, and of children and innocent creatures. They think this, because he's the easy answer. Of course it must be Voldemort, right?"
Molly stepped toward him and fearfully asked, "Is it not?"
"Mrs. Weasley," Luna piped up, managing a meek smile. "Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville made him very weak when they destroyed his Horcruxes."
"Horcri," Aberforth said, knowingly.
"Thanks, mate," George replied dismissively with a wave of his hand.
Snape was staring intently at Luna. He was right about her, but perhaps he was wrong about Percy. These two seemed to be paying attention, and doing so without attracting it. He could see them both as assets. He looked to Neville, who was watching knowingly.
"What do you know?" Snape implored quietly, addressing those three. "Who is in charge?"
"Just there! Did you see?" All eyes turned to Arthur, who was pointing at the very uninteresting bit of wall next to the window. They saw nothing, and Percy approached his father, putting a hand toward his back. Arthur turned to them, his eyes desperate. "You all think I'm crazy, don't you?" He looked back to the wall.
Snape turned to ask his question once more, and as he did so, he noticed what Arthur noticed. The tiniest little speck on the wall, that anyone may have thought was chipped paint moved. In the quickest of flashes, it had soared out the window.
"Skeeter," Snape muttered.
"You know," Arthur said, putting his hands on his hips, "I really don't like that woman."