Rosalyn, Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting, squashed on the sofa, facing Scrimegour. Rosalyn's eyes were narrowed at Scrimegour as he layed a bag of things on the table.

"And this is?"

Scrimegour didn't answer, but instead waved a bit of folded parchment at her, letting it levitate in the air and unfold before he started to speak.

"Herein is set forth; The last will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

"First," Scrimegour read on, as the quartet gasped. Dumbledore had left stuff to them in his will? " 'To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my deluminator, a device of my own making, in the hope that when things seem most dark... it will show him the light'."

He unfolded the back on the table and gave Ron an object that looked like a lighter, but everyone in the room knew better. "Dumbledore left this for me?" Ron asked in shock. "What is it?"

"Click it and see," Rosalyn suggested before Scrimegour could speak.

So Ron did click it, and the light in a nearby lamp flew into the deluminator. Ron clicked it again, and the light flew out of the deluminator and back into the lamp.

"Cool," he remarked.

" 'To Hermione Jean Granger'," Scrimegour moved on. " 'I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she finds it entertaining and instructing'."

He handed Hermione a small book. "He... he knew I liked books," she said in disbelief.

"Mum used to read us those, remember Rosie?" Ron said, and Rosalyn nodded. "The Wizard and the Hopping Pot, Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump..."

Rosalyn sniggered as she saw Harry and Hermione's confused faces. "Come on... you must have heard of Babbity Rabbity?" Ron laughed.

The other two furrowed their eyebrows.

"Next," Scrimegour got them back on track. " 'To Harry James Potter, I leave the snitch he caught in his first Quidditch game, as a reminder of the rewards of hard work, perseverance, and skill'."

It was a bit strange, for Scrimegour used a cloth to deliver the snitch to Harry's hands. Harry took it from him, utterly bemused.

"And finally," Scrimegour went back to the will. " 'To Rosalyn Lily Potter, I leave an unfinished book of my own writing, The Four Pillars of Hogwarts. I had hoped to publish it someday, but I am sure that, in giving it to you, you will share my stories with the world, maybe also learning from them as well'."

The red headed girl took a second to digest this as Scrimegour gave her a small, leather bound book. "What's it about?"

"I believe it contains a substantial amount about the Hogwarts founders," Scrimegour said stiffly.

"And Dumbledore wrote this?" Ron suddenly asked.

"It is, as the will told you, unfinished, but he obviously wanted you to have it," the Minister told them.

"So is that it?" Rosalyn asked him rather rudely.

"Not yet," he answered slowly. "Dumbledore left you a second bequest, Miss Potter."

"And that is?" Rosalyn raised her eyebrows.

Whatever she expected Scrimegour to say, it wasn't-

"The sword of Godric Gryffindor."

A stunned silence. "So where is it, then?" Rosalyn asked.

"Unfortunately, the sword is not Dumbledore's to give away, as such, it belongs to-"

"Rosie," Hermione cut him off. "It belongs to Rosalyn. It came to her in the Chamber of Secrets when she needed it."

"The sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor, Miss Granger, that does not make it their property," snarled Scrimegour. "And, in any event, the current whereabouts of the sword are unknown."

More silence. "What?" Rosalyn broke it again.

"The sword is missing."

Rosalyn looked at him as he went on. "I don't know what you're up to, Miss Potter, but you can't fight this war alone; he's too strong."

Rosalyn warily watched him. She didn't know if he was asking for help or offering it, but either way, she was giving neither.

☆☆☆

"Oh my- Rosie! Hermione!"

Rosalyn and Hermione, busy with enchanting flower arrangements near the wedding marquee, now turned, both squealing when they saw who was calling them.

"Rosalie!"

And it was true. Rosalie Delacour was back.

Rosalyn and Hermione ran over to her, as she ran to them, all of them colliding in a huge, giggly hug.

"I've missed you!" Rosalyn exclaimed, facing her old friend.

She couldn't help but think that Rosalie looked much more... happy than the last time she had seen her. It was true, her boyfriend Cedric had just died when she last saw them, but there was a sparkle behind her eyes now, that Rosalyn hadn't seen in a while, and she smiled to think it.

Of course, the Delacours being there meant that the whole house had to be cleaned top to bottom, and because of that, Rosalyn spent the whole day cleaning and organising, chatting ten to the dozen with Rosalie and Hermione.

The girl was soon updated on everything, including the fact that Rosalyn was dating Neville and that Ginny and Harry had gone out and then split up again because Harry wanted to protect her.

Naturally, Rosalyn couldn't tell Rosalie about the horcrux hunt, but she could tell her most things, and so she did.

When night fell, a huge dinner on the grass happened, and then everyone retired to their bedrooms after, turning in early before the big day tomorrow.

The arrival of the Delacours and Charlie had stretched the Burrow to breaking point. Ron, Harry and Neville were now all having to share a room, whilst Rosalyn and Hermione, to be nice (or because they were made to by Molly) were sleeping on the sofa, and Rosalie had refused a bed because she wanted to join them. Ginny had to share her bedroom with Gabrielle, the youngest Delacour sister.

Rsoalyn, Hermione and Rosalie stayed up and gossiped until late into the night. They had missed so much of each other and it was nice to have a catch up. In fact, they only went to bed that night when Ron and Neville came downstairs and yelled at them to be quiet that they tried to actually get some sleep.

Rosalyn fell asleep happy. If only she knew what was to happen tomorrow.

☆☆☆

The next day dawned and it was wedding time. Harry, Ron, Neville, Fred and George were all standing at the entrance to marquee that was put up the previous evening, ready to direct guests to their seats.

"Wow," was what was uttered out of Neville's mouth when he saw Rosalyn rushing towards them.

"D'you like it?" Rosalyn asked as her boyfriend nodded rapidly and the other boys slowly.

But another answered.

"Of course they like it, girl!" Rosalie, dressed in a light blue gown, grinned, walking towards them. "You look hot," she murmured into Rosie's ear so that none of the boys could hear, grinning.

"As do you," smiled Rosalyn, rolling her eyes and speaking to everyone now. "Well, our bat of an Aunt Muriel doesn't think so, I met her when she was giving Fleur her so-called goblin made tiara, she went, 'oh, good to see you, Rosalyn, but I must say, that dress doesn't please your figure much,' yeah, erm- did I ask for your opinion?"

Everyone laughed.

Over the next hour, it was their job to lead people to their seats. Rosalyn met many French people and even saw a few relatives of the Weasley's that she hadn't seen in quite a while.

Anyway, just as Hermione joined the party, complete with floaty violet dress that looked beautiful on her, the ceremony was about to begin. Rosalyn sat herself down in between Rosalie and Neville, the latter of which held her hand in his, as Bill and Fleur became husband and wife.

☆☆☆

The ceremony was now over and the dance floor was set. Rosalyn was sat at a table with Neville, Hermione, Harry, Ron and Rosalie as she watched everyone cheer Bill and Fleur down the dance floor, doing their first dance as a married couple.

Telling the others that she was going to get food, she walked over to the buffet table, when she heard a voice she hadn't heard for a two years.

"Rosaleen?"

Turning round, she cursed herself for her stupidity. Of course he was going to be here, hadn't he told her those short years ago that his sister was Fleur's best friend?

"Tristan?"

The French boy looked at her guiltily as he remembered, she too, all that they had been through.

"It's been ages, how are you?" He asked.

"I'm- I'm fine, Tristan," Rosalyn replied.

This was all very hard. What did you say to an old friend you had once vowed to never speak to again?

"I- I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, Rosaleen," Tristan smiled. "I know you'll never forgive me, and I don't deserve it, but I just- I just hoped-"

He stopped and Rosalyn still didn't say anything. And then a question. "Are you and Neveele together now?"

Rosalyn nodded. Tristan gave her a smile. "That's... mice. You deserve to be happy, Rosaleen."

Rosie smiled. "So do you. Are you...?"

Tristan smiled slightly. "Um... not entirely, but..."

"But what?" Rosalyn smiled slightly.

"I sort of have a girlfriend," Tristan said, making Rosalyn wolf whistle.

"Ooh! Who is she?" Rosalyn asked. "Can I meet her?"

"That's the thing," Tristan said. "You... already know her. It's Rosalie."

Rosalyn gasped and her eyes widened. "O-oh my gosh! This is amazing!" She uttered.

She knew that Rosalie had seemed a lot happier in the time she had been back, but she didn't know that this was the reason.

"Yeah, we met the summer after fourth year," said Tristan fondly. "And it just kind of went from there."

"I'm so happy for you too," Rosalyn smiled. "But I- Rosalie didn't mention-"

"We agreed not to," said Tristan. "I just... I wanted to be the one to tell you. And say sorry."

Rosalyn smiled slightly. "You don't need to. I'm not mad, and it's kinda nice to see all these old friends today. Like a reunion."

Tristan grinned back at her, and Rosalyn nodded as a small moment of silence swept over them. She enjoyed staying in this. It was like a moment of clarity, as if they were suddenly realising that they were never meant to be together, but were each simply a stepping stone in each other's lives.

"Hey, d'you wanna dance?" Rosalyn smirked, her old flare and the sparkle in her eyes back. "For old times' sake?"

"You sure your boyfriend won't mind?" Tristan raised his eyebrows.

"What about your girlfriend?" Rosalyn raised her eyebrows then burst out laughing, taking his hand and pulling him onto the dance floor.

They laughed as they danced, talking about past memories and catching up with each other's lives. They hadn't seen each other since fourth year, and they hadn't been keeping in touch.

And Neville did see them. Ron pointed them out, saying, "isn't that the tosspot Rosie dumped at the Yule Ball?" and he knew it was. Somehow though, he didn't care. When he looked at the smile on Rosalyn's face he saw the one that he normally created, and he trusted her.

He wasn't the jealous fourth year he used to be.

At some point during the night, when the sky had darkened, Rosalyn and Tristan retired from dancing and split off, Rosalyn to go get a drink, Tristan to talk to Rosalie, who had been thrilled to see her boyfriend and one of her best friends getting along.

"Hello Rosie," a sudden voice stopped her in her tacks. Luna Lovegood, wearing a blindingly yellow but beautiful dress was standing before her. "I've interrupted a deep thought, haven't I? I can see it growing smaller in your eyes."

"Of course not, how are you, Luna?" Rosalyn asked politely.

"Great, I got bitten by a garden gnome a few moments ago-" she showed him a small bite on her finger as her father, wearing equally yellow robes, came up behind her and cut her off.

"Gome saliva is extremely beneficial!" He told Rosalyn, then extended his hand. "Xenophilius Lovegood, we live just over the hill."

As Rosalyn shook his hand, he pulled her closer. "I just want you to know that we at the Quibbler, unlike those toadies at the Daily Prophet, fully supported Dumbledore in his lifetime and in his death, support you just as fully."

As he was speaking, Rosalyn noticed a necklace that lay on his chest. The charm was a triangle with a circle in the middle with a line through it. Rosalyn wondered what this was, but didn't think much of it.

As Xenophilius pulled back, Luna said to her father. "Come, daddy, Rosie doesn't want to talk to us right now, she's just too polite to say so."

And with that they disappeared into the crowd of people. Rosalyn was going to go and see Harry, Ron, Hermione or Neville, but then she heard a voice.

"Miss Potter!"

A man she didn't know was sitting at a round table, alone. Rosalyn looked at him and asked. "I'm sorry, Sir, I don't think we've met before?"

"Oh, I'm Elphias Doge," the man said cheerily, holding out a hand which Rosalyn shook promptly, a dawning comprehension on her face.

She had read an obituary in the Daily Prophet by this man, for Dumbledore, a few weeks into the summer. Unlike what some others were writing about him, this was kind, and Rosalyn, despite all the uncertainty that surrounded Dumbledore now, felt it was exactly the way that the barmy headmaster would want to be remembered.

By 'some others', Rita Skeeter was meant. She was now writing a book called The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, which showcased some moments in his life that Rosalyn was unsure about, having read excerpts in the paper.

"Er- I just, I found what you wrote in the Daily Prophet very moving," Rosalyn explained. "You seemed to know Dumbledore really well-"

"Well I certainly knew him longest," Doge said as Rosalyn stopped. "Well, that is if you don't count his brother Aberforth and for some reason people never do seem to count Aberforth..."

"I... I didn't even know he had a brother," Rosalyn said feebly. She felt rubbish.

"Ah, well, he always was a proud man was Dumbledore," Doge nodded along.

"Don't despair, Elphias," another suddenly joined the conversation. Auntie Muriel. Rosalyn rolled her eyes as she continued. "I've heard he's been thoroughly unraveled by Rita Skeeter, in eight hundred pages no less!"

She smirked evilly as she went on. "Word has it that someone... talked to her, someone who knew the Dumbledore family well. Now you and I both know who that is, Elphias."

"A monstrous betrayal," Doge remarked bitterly.

"I'm sorry, who are we talking about?" Rosalyn asked.

Muriel leant forward. "Bathilda Bagshot."

"Who?" Rosalyn asked with raised eyebrows.

"Good lord, Rosalyn, she's only the most celebrated magical historian of the century!" Muriel said as if it was obvious. "She was as close to the Dumbledore's as anyone, and I'm sure Rita Skeeter thought it was well worth a trip to Godric's Hollow to take a peak into that old bird's rattled cage..."

Now, Rosalyn had been doing some research over the summer. Godric's Hollow was the name of the little village in which her family's house was. The place where her parents had been murdered.

"Godric's Hollow?" She asked in shock. "Bathilda Bagshot lives in Godric's Hollow?"

"Of course, girl, oh it's where she first met Dumbledore," Muriel replied.

"You don't mean to say he lived there too?" Rosalyn asked. This was getting worse and worse.

"The family moved there after his father killed those three muggles, quite the scandal, actually..." Muriel looked into her eyes. "Good lord, girl, are you sure you knew him at all?"

No.

"I- I'm going to get a drink," Rosalyn quickly moved away from Doge and Muriel, but she could run from the truth.

Rosalyn felt horrible. She had never known any of this about the man she so admired. Feeling unstable, she went back to the table that now, only Neville sat at. Rosalyn guessed that Harry, Ron and Hermione were all off talking to others or dancing.

"D- d'you wanna-" Neville stuttered, immediately taking her mind off it with his adorableness. "I mean- would you want to-"

Rosalyn smiled at Neville's endlessly cute stuttering. She was about to go and fight for her life amongst death eaters and Voldemort, but at least he could still make her giggle.

"Yes," Rosalyn grinned. "I would love to dance with you, Neville."

He beamed back at her as he took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. She put her hands on his shoulders and his on her waist as a softer, slower song started.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look?" Neville asked her, staring into her eyes.

"Might have mentioned it," Rosalyn smiled.

But their dance had to be interrupted, as, about a minute later, Rosalyn stopped and went stock still, eyes to the sky. "You okay?" Neville asked her.

But then he saw what was troubling her. A bright shape was floating towards them in the sky, floating towards the wedding marquee. It smashed through the tarpaulin and stunned everyone into a shocked silence. By now it was recognisable as a lynx; a patronus. And then it spoke in the recognisable voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"The Ministry has fallen... the Minister of Magic... is dead... They are coming... they are coming..."