Before the Dawn | George Weasley

59

I sat at the long table at Malfoy Manor, keeping my gaze fixed on the wooden surface before me. I couldn't look up, or I'd see the hovering body of Charity Burbage, the Hogwarts Muggle Studies professor. I knew she was there, but I couldn't bring myself to look at her, a sick feeling settled heavily in the pit of my stomach. I'd kill for a drink, I though to myself, but couldn't bring myself to lift a finger, let alone dig out my flask.

Since my apparent murder of Bill Weasley, I'd risen through the ranks of the Death Eaters, propelled by my talent for spellcasting and self-proclaimed hatred and thirst for revenge on the family that formed the core of the Order. And now here I sat among the best, and worst, of Voldemort's top supporters.

The morning after the attack at Hogwarts, I'd apparated to Grimmauld Place with tears streaming down my face, prepared to beg for forgiveness, to plead my case with the hopes that the Order wouldn't cut me off for killing one of their own.

But, to my unspeakable relief, Remus explained to me that Bill had survived the attack. He'd been bitten by Greyback, yes, but since Greyback was only partially transformed it was unlikely Bill would be cursed with lycanthropy, and he was recovering in Hogwart's hospital wing under the care of Madame Pomfrey.

Remus had held me tightly, then, as I shook violently, feeling so many overwhelming emotions surging at the same time, and waited until I had regained control over my body to release me. He kept reminding me that I had saved lives by alerting Fred of the attack, that I had given the Order a chance at defending the school, but I couldn't quite accept that as an equal exchange, and Remus reluctantly agreed to relay my sincerest apologies to Bill, both of us aware that it wasn't nearly enough.

Just over a month had passed since that day, and I hadn't spoken to anyone in the Order besides Severus in the time between—Severus, who had murdered Dumbledore. Severus, who had betrayed the Order.  Severus, who I had trusted.

And now I was here.

I looked up as Yaxley and Severus entered, the last to join the meeting.

"You are very nearly late," said Voldemort sharply.

There was a tense silence as the two men took their respective seats, then the Dark Lord spoke again:

"So?"

"My Lord, the Order of the Phoenix intends to move Harry Potter from his current place of safety on Saturday next, at nightfall," said Severus, looking rather smug.

"Saturday at nightfall," repeated Voldemort, staring intently at Snape, who gazed back evenly. Then, after a moment, Voldemort's lips curled into a smile.

"Very good. And this information comes—"

"From the source we discussed," confirmed Severus.

My heart pounded in my chest. Just what source was he referring to? Was Snape now relaying messages straight from the meeting table of the Order? I tried to catch his eye, but he refused to look at me.

"My Lord," said Yaxley, drawing the attention of the table. "I have heard differently. Dawlish, the Auror, let slip that Potter will not be moved until the thirtieth, the day before the boy turns seventeen."

"My source has informed me that there are plans to lay false trails," said Severus calmly. "No doubt this is such a case. I suspect a Confundus Charm has been placed upon Dawlish. It would not be the first time, as he is notorious for being susceptible."

"I assure you, my Lord, Dawlish seemed quite certain," insisted Yaxley.

"If he has been Confunded, then it is only natural he seems certain," interjected Snape. "The Auror Office is no longer involved in the protection of Harry Potter. The Order believes that we have infiltrated the Ministry and no longer trusts any of their administrations."