Chapter 12

Edward's POV

The conversation fell silent when we heard yelling from the Weasleys' kitchen.

"You don't understand!" Remus Lupin shouted. "You've only seen me amongst the Order or under Dumbledore's protection! When people learn of my lycanthropy, they can barely look at me! I've made her an outcast! Don't you see what I've done? Even her family is disgusted by our marriage! After all, what parents want their child to marry a werewolf? And the children—the children—"

I saw Alice glanced at Tonks, beside her. Her now-blue eyes were wide, surprised and concerned.

An outcast? She thought. But I don't even care about that…I told Remus that…Oh, Mum and Dad, again! I told them to trust Remus, to get to know him! ...What about the children? Why…What…Is he okay? He sounds so…troubled…Oh, Remus…

"My kind don't usually breed! How can I forgive myself, when I knowingly risked passing on my condition to innocent children? And if, by some miracle, they are not like me, then they will be better off, a hundred times better so, without a father of whom they must always be ashamed!"

There was a brief moment of silence, before the sound of a palm making contact with someone's face echoed through the house.

Oh dear…

Uh oh.

Oh no…

This won't be good…

Everyone's thoughts were similar.

"Don't say that, Remus!" I heard Bella shout back at him, angrily. "Your children would never be ashamed of you! Those people out there, who can 'barely look at you', all they know is what they've read about in the Daily Prophet! They don't know you! And, if they knew you, they wouldn't cringe or look away! Look at Hermione and me! In our Third Year, and we figured out what you are, were we ashamed? Did we run away in fear? Did we? NO! We knew you, and we judge you by who you are, not because of your damn furry little problem!

"And, if Tonks's family has a problem with it, then, they should accept it and get over it! You and Tonks are in love! They should be happy that she married someone who really loves her like you do!

"No child of yours could ever hate you! No one who really knows you could hate you!

"Hell, I'm your Goddaughter! I don't hate you! I think I know how they would feel, a bit! You and Tonks and everyone in this house is a part of my family! I love all of you, and I don't give a damn if you have a furry little problem. Or if the Cullens have a little blood problem!"

There were footsteps toward the door, but Bella paused.

"And—for God's sake—lycanthropy ISN'T genetic!

"Get that through your damn thick skull!"

At that, Bella stomped outside the Burrow, ignoring everyone's surprised and shocked expressions…

Bella's POV

Shit.

"Hello," the Minister, Rufus Scrimgeour, said, somewhat hesitantly. "Is this a bad time?"

"Uh, no. Come right in." I said, still surprised, but I opened the door for him.

The others all seemed surprised, too.

"Hello, Minister," Mrs. Weasley greeted, plastering a smile on her face. "What can we do for you today?"

"Please forgive my intrusion on your Christmas. I was in the vicinity—working, unfortunately—and I thought I might bother you for a short visit," he said.

"Oh, no bother at all!" Mr. Weasley said to his boss. I could tell he was pretending to be happy to see Scrimgeour. I knew this well enough. We all knew there had to be a reason behind his visit.

"Do you all mind if I speak with Mister Potter and Miss Swan?" he asked.

Everyone looked to Harry and me.

I exchanged glances with Harry.

"Sure," he said, uncertainty in his tone.

"No problem," I said.

That was how Harry and I ended up in the Weasleys' garden with the Minister of Magic.

He limped a bit as he walked along.

"I've wanted to speak with the two of you for quite a while. Did you know that?"

Harry and I chorused, "No."

"If you do not mind me asking, what was the yelling about before you exited the house?" he asked me.

My cheeks burned cherry red. You could hear it outside the home? Great.

"My Godfather needed some sense knocked into him." I told him, looking behind him, at the kitchen windows. "He was being a git."

The Minister chuckled. "I see…Ah, how the rumors have flown, eh?" He chuckled again.

"All the whispers of a prophecy…" I hid a smile. That one was true. "…Of you two being the 'Chosen Ones'…

"I suppose Dumbledore has spoken to you about those matters?"

"Yes," Harry said, curious, but wary.

"Could you tell me?"

Harry and I exchanged alarmed glances.

"With all due respect, Minister," I said slowly, "we can't. I am sorry, but we cannot tell Dumbledore's secrets. They are his own until he chooses to share them with the world."

He nodded. "I expected as much. But, I really must know…Are you two the 'Chosen Ones'?"

"Um…why do you ask?" Harry asked.

I was getting suspicious, and I could tell Harry was, too.

"Well, everyone believes that you two are destined to defeat the Dark Lord. With these dark times ahead, people look to you two for hope, I'm sure you know. And I can't help but feel that, once you realize this, you might consider it, well, almost a duty, to stand alongside the Ministry, and give everyone a boost."

"I'm afraid I don't understand your meaning, Minister," I said, truly confused and apprehensive.

"Oh, nothing onerous, I assure you." Scrimgeour said. "If you two were seen coming in and out of the Ministry from time to time, for instance, that would give a good impression."

"Basically," I surmised, "You want to fool everyone into believing that we're working with the Ministry?"

"Not the way I'd word it, but yes, Isabella." He said, looking away to the horizon.

I made a face at the use of my full name. Harry shook his head ever so slightly, and I returned it.

"It would give everyone a boost," he continued. "It's all about giving people hope, you see."

"But," I asked, "Why bother doing that when you could all be doing something that would really give people hope, instead of fooling them?"

He sighed a bit. "I guess you haven't seen the Daily Prophet recently, then. There were three very recent arrests, you see. Death Eaters."

"No," Harry disagreed. "We've seen that. But…those people most definitely aren't Death Eaters. Stan Shunpike? He is a Death Eater as much as us. You're making those who are falsely convicted your scapegoats."

He didn't speak immediately, but his expression had hardened instantly.

"Dolores Umbridge told me of your dreams of becoming Aurors. That could be arranged very easily…"

"I think we would prefer to earn that position fairly," I said coldly. "After all, neither of us has forgotten…" I held up my hand, which had 'I must not tell lies.' carved into the back of it. Harry did the same.

"I see. You two prefer to—like your mentor, Dumbledore—to separate yourselves from the Ministry?"

"We just don't want to be used." I told him. "And, you people can't get anything right, can you? Either we've got Fudge, pretending everything is lovely and smells like roses while people get murdered right under his nose, or we've got you, throwing scapegoats into Azkaban and trying to pretend to give hope by using us."

"I don't suppose you'd tell me where Dumbledore goes on his periodical absences from Hogwarts?"

There was a brief silence.

"Very well, then. I suppose I'll have to see if I can find out by other means."

"I'd think you'd have learned from Fudge's mistakes because you're smarter than him. He tried interfering at Hogwarts. You might have noticed that he isn't Minister anymore, while Dumbledore is still headmaster. I'd leave him alone, were I you." I told him.

He studied us silently for a moment.

"You two are Dumbledore's men through and through, aren't you, Potter, Swan?"

"Absolutely," I told him proudly as Harry said, "Yeah we are."

At that, we went back inside the Burrow.