CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
EXPLAIN NOW

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   They didn't look at her as they buried Dobby. Rosalie didn't blame them, she knew that when night fell that she would leave anyways, run because she had betrayed the Death Eaters, and that practically guaranteed her death. But the burial of Dobby....it was quiet, it was nice. They got a shovel and began to dig a grave, Harry carved into a piece of wood a tombstone and he gave a great eulogy. The only one who hadn't attended the funeral was Hermione, who was too weak to stand for so long.

      Rosalie stayed in the back for the ceremony, feeling disgusted with herself and the mark she bared on her arm. Once it was over, only Ron gave her a glance, but it wasn't even that - it was a glare. He looked at her with disgust, much like how she felt about herself.

      And they went back inside, Rosalie sitting down on the couch as everyone around her grew tense, not trusting her with this new information of her loyalties. Or, fake loyalties. Ron spoke first, and he didn't bother trying to hide his anger.

    "How long?" that was all, like he couldn't handle speaking to her, like it physically pained him.

    "Two...three years maybe," she muttered, feeling ashamed with herself as she looked down at her hands.

    "Why?" it was Harry that time, "Why would you help them when they kill innocent people? Why would you do that?"

    She looked up at him with her own anger this time, "It's not like I wanted to! It wasn't my original plan! But it was the only way."

    "Only way for what? To enact revenge on everyone who didn't become your friend during Hogwarts? Newsflash, Rosalie, you were the one who never tried to speak to anyone." Ouch. Full name. Ron was angry - truly angry.

    "No," Rosalie shook her head, her voice shaky, "No. It wasn't that. I know what you think...but it's not that."

    "Then what is it?" Harry asked, raising his voice before Bill Weasley, the older brother of Ron, told him to keep his voice down. They had guests upstairs, after all.

    Rosalie didn't want to tell them. They would think it was a lie, even if it were the truth. But what other choice did she have? There was no lie to tell. No lie they would believe. "Dumbledore asked me to."

    The air grew still, tension eased only slightly before building again. "What?" was all that Harry could muster, not trusting himself to lash out again.

    "Dumbledore asked me to," she said again, her voice growing loud enough for everyone who didn't hear before listen.

    "Why? Why would he do that?" Harry asked with a bitter tone, "Why would he choose you to do this out of everyone else? It doesn't make any sense."

    "I don't know," Rosalie told him honestly, "But how could I refuse? There was finally someone listening to me, hearing me, expecting something out of me. I've never had that before...I've never had that care from anyone after my mother died!"

    "What about your father? You said that he only died a year ago," Ron pointed out, and she let out a bitter laugh.

    "What could he do? I never saw him during the day or the morning, only at night when he had already gotten drunk. There was just me...and that Dumbledore came along and expected something out of me, how could I say no to that?"

    "By saying just that, no," Ron said, "It's not that hard. Only two letters, really I think you should practice saying it more if you have trouble pronouncing it."

    "You don't understand!" she yelled, "None of you do! Harry...you were born to do something great, and from the moment you and Hermione met him, Ron, so were you. Fleur, you were chosen for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but some of us...we don't have that. We aren't chosen to be anything, just born to be nothing. If I didn't do this, who would care if I died? No one. There would be no one mourning me. I just wanted someone to care. I just wanted to be remembered."

    "You could've been remembered for something better," Ron pointed out again after a moment of harsh silence.

    "Don't you think I know that?" Rosalie seethed, "At first, I didn't realize everything. But then sixth year came along, and I...it all came crashing down. You don't think I live without a care, right?"

    They didn't answer that, she let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Of course I live with guilt. Of course I feel guilt for everyone tortured or killed by another Death Eater because I'm just like them, but you wouldn't know that. And I understand that. You don't need to, though, because I'll be gone by morning, you'll never have to see me again."

    "No," Harry stopped her, "You've already done all of this, the least you could do was stay and finish this - we might need to pick your brain again."

    Rosalie nodded. It wasn't like she could refuse, she had nothing to lose. Her family was dead, she didn't have friends, and the sweet release of death was wished for every night. The only thing that pained her in this was how she betrayed them, how she hurt them. Hermione now had 'mudblood' carved into her arm, she had lost her first true friend in a long time with the Weasley, and Harry...he was something else. And she didn't know what that was.

    So, she just nodded and accepted it. Staying away from everyone else as they continued to stay at the cottage for many days until it became the day they would be leaving.

    "It's beautiful here," she heard the whimsical voice of Luna Lovegood outside.

    "It was our aunt's. We used to come here as kids. The Order uses it now as a safe house - what's left of us, at least," Bill told her, and Rosalie felt more guilt sink inside her.

    From outside, the door swung open revealing Harry, who she assumed just went to visit the grave of Dobby. "I need to talk to the goblin," he blurted out.

    Rosalie didn't follow after them as the three she betrayed so deeply went upstairs with Bill. She simply let them leave, sighing as she felt that guilt consume her again. She just needed to stop thinking, that was problem, but what else could she do?

    The Allen girl went upstairs after minutes of controlling her breathing and not letting herself cry over the guilt she felt. And when she did, she heard Hermione whispering, "Harry, are you think there's a Horcrux in Bellatrix's vault?"

    Immediately, she filled with panic. She knew that anything that Bellatrix owned would be heavily guarded, especially if she was holding a piece of her master's soul.

    "She was terrified when she thought we'd been in there. She kept asking you what else we'd taken," Harry did have a point, that did seem quite odd to Rosalie, but no time for that, "I'd bet anything there's a Horcrux there. If we find it, we can kill it. And if we kill it, we're one step closer to killing him."

    "And if we find one? How're we supposed to destroy it if we've given Griphook the sword?" Ron asked, and Rosalie sucked in a breath. They were going to give Griphook the Sword of Gryffindor?

    "I'm still working on that part," Harry muttered, and Rosalie decided that it was finally time to make an appearance.

    She walked from the behind corner, seeing the three visibly tense in her presence. She tried not to be hurt by it, but it still stung a little. No hard feelings, though.

    Before they could say anything, Fleur exited a room near Rosalie with a half-empty bowl in her hand before glancing at the three in front of her and the girl behind her. "He's too weak," she told him, her French accent very apparent then.

    Harry nodded appreciatively, but waited until she left. He motioned for Rosalie to go first, still not trusting her as they entered the room. Guess she followed them anyways, even if it wasn't her intention.

    Ollivander, at the sight of them, gave a feeble smile, but it was apparent how weak he saw. He had sunken eyes, shaky hands and you could practically see all his bones. "Forgive me if I don't get up."

    Harry nodded. "Mr. Ollivander, I need to ask you a few questions."

    "Anything, m'boy, anything," Ollivander said, willing to answer anything he asked, seeing as the boy did save him from the clutches of Death Eaters.

    "Can you identify these, sir?" Harry asked, removing two wands from his pocket and handing them to the shaky hands of Ollivander.

    He examined the first wand closely, "Walnut and dragon heartstring. Twelve and three quarter inches. Unyielding. This belongs to Bellatrix Lestrange."

    "And this?" Harry referred to the other wand he gave to Ollivander, who carefully placed Bellatrix's wand down and picking up the other one.

    "Hawthorn. Unicorn hair. Ten inches. Reasonably pliant. This was the wand of Draco Malfoy," he said, and Rosalie perked at that.

    "Was? Isn't it still?" Harry asked the very question Rosalie thought.

    "Perhaps not - if you won it from him. I sense its allegiance has changed," Ollivander nodded.

    Harry turned his head slowly, "You talk about wands like they've got feelings. Can think."

    He smiled, "The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter. That much has always been clear to those of us who have studied wandlore."

    Harry nodded, processing the information as Ollivander handed the wands over again, then spoke, "What do you know about the Deathly Hallows, sir?"

    The old man's eyes widened in surprise, a tint of fear detected as well. "There are rumored to be three: The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone and the Invisibility Cloak. It is said that to possess them all if to make oneself the Master of Death. But few truly believe such objects exist -"

    Before he could continue anymore, Harry interrupted with another question, "But you, sir? Do you believe they exist?"

    "I see no reason to put stock in an old wives tale -"

    "You're lying," Harry accused him, "You know one exists and you told him about it. You told him about the Elder Wand and where to go looking for it."

    "He tortured me!" Ollivander confessed to what the Potter accused him of. "Besides, I conveyed only rumors. There's no guarantee he will find it -"

    "He has found it, sir," Harry stopped him before he could continue, and Rosalie felt herself blinking and processing this new information. All she knew was that he had taken Lucius Malfoy's wand, and that was it. That meeting was the last time she had seen him, and hopefully that would be the last time.

    "That's all, sir. We'll leave you to get some rest now," Harry said after seeing the state they put the old man in with the new information.

    The four of them began to leave when he called out, "He's after you, Mr. Potter. If it's true, what you say, that he has the Elder Wand, I'm afraid you really don't stand a chance."

    "Then I guess I'll just have to kill him before he finds me, sir," and after Harry spoke, they left the room, Rosalie feeling an even deeper amount of guilt and hatred for herself than before.

short chapter, but oh well. next chapter will probably be longer :)