We were wrong. We didn't believe him.

Neither of us even took the idea into consideration. That Harry could possibly be right. That Malfoy was a Death Eater.

I believed it just wasn't possible. Draco Malfoy, Death Eater? Impossible. Illogical. Malfoy was a vindictive, annoying schoolyard nuisance, nothing like the brutal, horrible men behind those ghostly masks. The terrible men who would chase down schoolchildren and attempt to kill them. The awful people who burst into a Wizarding boarding school to kill the elderly headmaster.

Surely, I had thought, there was no way Lord Voldemort would bring a sixteen year old boy into his ranks. Voldemort had underestimated youth many times in the past, in the form of her best mate. Surely he did not really intend for and believe that Draco could complete that task. Such a horrible, terrible task.

Ron simply thought Malfoy was too stupid to be a Death Eater.

How very wrong we were.

But why didn't we believe him?

We trusted Harry with our lives; we would die for him, just as we knew he would do the same for us. Yet we refused to trust him about such a simple matter.

In our defense, he did not exactly have a stellar record in regard to figuring out the, well, yearly problem. Oh, we know he's brilliant – it's scary to think about all the things he's gotten himself out of, not to mention into (I will not go into a rant about how frustrating it is that he and Ron just breeze through their classes on my coattails and foul books like Snape's old copy of Advanced Potion-Making).

Throughout our fifth year, we strongly backed Harry and his account of what happened during the Third Task – I never told him that I slapped Lavender Brown across the face one night when she wouldn't keep her fat mouth shut. Can't say I've ever regretted doing that. But why didn't our loyalty to him continue in that regard? Yes, he had been wrong about the Ministry. I hate that I turned out to be right. I guess Ron and I separately came to the conclusion that Harry's instincts couldn't be trusted every single time.

How very wrong we were.

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