Chapter 16 A Very Frosty Christmas

Chapter 16 A Very Frosty Christmas

“So Snape was offering to help him? He was definitely offering to help him?”

“If you ask. that once more,” said Harry, “I'm going to stick this sprout—”

“I'm only checking!” said Ron. They were standing alone at the Burrow's kitchen sink, peeling a mountain of sprouts for Mrs. Weasley. Snow was drifting past the

window in front of them.

“Yes, Snape was offering to help him!” said Harry. “He said he'd promised Malfoy's mother to protect him, that he'd made an Unbreakable Oath or something—”

“An Unbreakable Vow?” said Ron, looking stunned. “Nah, he can't have... Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure,” said Harry. “Why, what does it mean?”

“Well, you can't break an Unbreakable Vow...”

“I'd worked that much out for myself, funnily enough. What happens if you break it, then?”

“You die,” said Ron simply. “Fred and George tried to get me to make one when I was about five. I nearly did too, I was holding hands with Fred and everything when

Dad found us. He went mental,” said Ron, with a reminiscent gleam in his eyes. “Only time I've ever seen Dad as angry as Mum, Fred reckons his left buttock has never

been the same since.”

“Yeah, well, passing over Fred's left buttock—”

“I beg your pardon?” said Fred's voice as the twins entered the kitchen.

“Aaah, George, look at this. They're using knives and everything. Bless them.”

“I'll be seventeen in two and a bit months’ time,” said Ron grumpily, “and then I'll be able to do it by magic!”

“But meanwhile,” said George, sitting down at the kitchen table and putting his feet up on it, “we can enjoy watching you demonstrate the correct use of a — whoops

-a-daisy!”

“You made me do that!” said Ron angrily, sucking his cut thumb. “You wait, when I'm seventeen—”

“I'm sure you'll dazzle us all with hitherto unsuspected magical skills,” yawned Fred.

“And speaking of hitherto unsuspected skills, Ronald,” said George, “what is this we hear from Ginny about you and a young lady called—unless our information is

faulty—Lavender Brown?”

Ron turned a little pink, but did not look displeased as he turned back to the sprouts. “Mind your own business.”

“What a snappy retort,” said Fred. “I really don't know how you think of them. No, what we wanted to know was... how did it happen?”

“What d'you mean?”

“Did she have an accident or something?”

“What?”

“Well, how did she sustain such extensive brain damage? Careful, now!”

Mrs. Weasley entered the room just in time to see Ron throw the sprout knife at Fred, who had turned it into a paper airplane with one lazy flick of his wand.