"I'm sorry, Mr Lovegood, I still don't quite understand," Rosalyn told him, still not shy.

I instead of answering with words, Xenophilius went over to get ink, quill and parchment. Once he had Rosalyn, Harry, Ron and Hermione standing round him, he drew a vertical line in the middle of the paper. "The elder wand, the most powerful wand in the world." He drew a circle at the bottom of the line. "The resurrection stone, capable of returning loved ones from the dead." Finally, he drew a triangle round it all. "The cloak of invisibility, used, once, to hide from death itself."

He looked straight into Rosalyn's eyes. "Together, as I said, they make you the master of death."

Rosalyn looked at Hermione. Hermione looked back. "That mark was on a grave in Godric's Hollow," Hermione said slowly. "Mr Lovegood, does the Peverell family have anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?"

Xenophilius suddenly pushed past them. "Ignotus... excuse me, Ignotus and brothers Cadmus and Antioch are said to be the three original owners of the Hallows and therefore the inspiration for the story," He went over to the table and their discarded chairs, then, from there, opened the kettle. "Oh, you're tea's gone cold, I'll just go and get some more..."

He bustled downstairs to the kitchen, looking positively scared now. Rosalyn didn't even hesitate to wonder why. She cursed herself for this later.

The quartet looked at each other for a few seconds. "Let's get out of here," Ron said quickly. "I'm not drinking any more of this stuff, hot or cold."

They gathered their bags and walked downstairs to the door, where Xenophilius was waiting by the window, the sink miles away.

"Erm- thank you, Sir," Hermione said awkwardly.

"You forgot the water," Ron put in.

"What?" Xenophilius asked in surprise.

"For the tea."

"D-did I?" He asked quietly. He then started to shake, going around the room. "How silly of me, I-"

"It's fine, Sir," Rosalyn said. "We'll be going, now, anyway-"

"NO!" Xenophilius yelled as the mug flew up in the air, then fell to the ground and smashed. He ran over to the door, holding out his arms, blocking it.

"Rosie, look that this," Ron said slowly, pointing at a copy of the Quibbler.

Now, the Quibbler had been supporting Rosalyn throughout the early course of the war, as Xenophilius had told Rosalyn at the wedding. However, now, like The Prophet, it had UNDESIRABLE NO.1 emblazoned across the top, a picture of Rosalyn on it as well.

"The Quibbler's going for a new angle, then, isn't it?" Rosalyn asked icily. "Is that why you keep staring out the window, waiting for the death eaters?"

Xenophilius started to shake. He looked pale, his lips dry. "They took her," he said in a voice that went far past broken. "They were angry, you see, about what I'd been writing... and they took her, my Luna... please, you're my only hope... they might give her back to me if I-"

"Hand over Rosie?" Ron asked flatly. "No deal."

Rosalyn, meanwhile, had backed up in shock. It was her or Luna.

"Move over, we're leaving," Harry told Xenophilius.

But there was no time. "DOWN!" Hermione yelled, as she saw black, smoky lines headed towards the house.

Just as Rosalyn hit the ground, she heard the glass smash. Spells were fired everywhere as she commando crawled through the house, trying to connect her hand with Hermione's-

"I've got her! I've got POTTER!" Rosalyn heard Xenophilius shout. She wasn't focused on this, however, when she saw the death eaters enter the cottage.

Finally, she thrusted her hand out, finding Harry's. And apparently, he was holding onto Hermione's, because the next moment, she felt herself pulled into the darkness.

But Rosalyn couldn't help but think of the question. What's going to happen to Luna?

☆☆☆

Rosalyn became aware that they were in a forest as her eyes fluttered open. She looked up and saw Ron, Harry and Hermione standing not so far from her. Ron was ranting.

"That treacherous little bleeder, is there no one we can trust?" He burst out mutinously.

"They'd taken Luna because he supported me, he was just desperate," Rosalyn joined the conversation, taking her wand out her pocket. "Do the enchantments with me?"

Ron gave a dry nod, and the two of them walked a few metres down to start protecting them.

They didn't even get a spell out their mouths.

About five or six men apparated into their midst. Rosalyn and Ron backed away. Rosalyn recognised these men. The snatchers. The ones that had smelled her and Hermione's perfume.

"Hello beautiful," Scabior said to Hermione, who looked extremely uncomfortable and let out a scared little gasp.

Rosalyn turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione. There was no explanation needed. With as much speed as they could muster, the four of them started to run through the trees, trying to escape the snatchers. Rosalyn heard Scabior yell from behind her.

"Well don't hang about, snatch 'em!"

And the chase began.

Rosalyn ran throughout the forest, getting fired at by spells from the snatchers. She had lost Harry, Ron and Hermione, and was simply running as fast as she could. Hopefully to safety.

She jumped over a fallen tree and landed funny; she suspected a twisted ankle, but despite the searing pain, she kept running. She needed to get away. Fast.

"Stupefy!" She yelled behind her, blasting trees and foliage, but no snatchers.

Ignoring the pain in her ankle, Rosalyn ran on, tears starting to run down her cheeks at the arount of pain she was in and effort she was using up

But she knew it was over soon. Ron and Harry soon fell over and were immediately captured by the snatchers. The girls made it out, and Rosalyn was just running down the hill, torn between the urge to go back to Harry and Ron and the urge to stay with Hermione and go, get out, when Hermione hit her in the face with a spell and she fell flat on her back, breathing hard as she made contact with the ground.

Into Lord Voldemort's mind she went, the scar on her forearm tingling.

"Gindewald..."

He was at the entrance to Nurmengard, the prison he was hidden away in... he needed answers...

He entered a cell in which a man was huddled in the corner...

"Ah, Tom, I knew you would come one day..." Gindewald said, smiling. Not one bit afraid of Voldemort. "But surely you must know that I no longer have it..."

"Tell me, Grindelwald, tell me where it is..." Voldemort said slowly.

"Why should I?"

Rosalyn saw Grindelwald defy Voldemort, she felt the fury he felt at the refusal to follow him.

"Kill me then, Voldemort, I welcome death, but you shall not win, that wand will never, ever be yours-"

A furious yell, then a flash of green light- and Grindelwald was gone.

Rosalyn saw flashes of Voldemort's mind... a long, skeletal wand... Dumbledore... the elder wand... the hallows... cold, hard, undeniable fury...

Rosalyn came to in the forest. Hermione was beside her. She became aware that her face was badly swollen, and remembered the jinx Hermione shot at her.

"Stinging jinx," Hermione whispered to her. "It should disguise who you are, so-"

"The hallows exist," Rosalyn rode over her, hissing the words out so the snatchers couldn't hear. "But he's only after one of them, the last one, and I think he's gonna find it in the next twenty-four hours. Hermione, You-Know-Who's found the elder wand."

Before Hermione could reply, Snatchers grabbed the both of them and forced them off. "Get off her!" Ron yelled. Rosalyn guessed he was talking about Hermione.

A snatcher punched Ron and Hermione shouted. "Leave him!" as the snatchers harassed her as well.

Meanwhile, Rosalyn was yelling. "Get off me!" to another another snatcher who was curling her hair round his finger.

"Your boyfriend will get a lot more than that if he doesn't learn to behave himself," Scabior came down the hill, strutting smugly, talking to Hermione. "What happened to your face, beautiful?" He asked Rosalyn, smirk on his face.

"Get the fuck away from me," snarled Rosalyn, struggling to get the man holding her off her.

She was struggling to get out of a fantasy in which Neville was beating the hell out of these pedos, so when Scabior twirled a lock of her hair around his finger, she jumped back. "What's your name, pretty girl?" Scabior asked her further.

Rosalyn was put on the spot. "Dudley, Petunia Dudley."

"Check it," Scabior ordered his posse whilst he went up to Hermione. "And you, my lovely, what do they call you?"

"Penelope Clearwater," Hermione answered without missing a beat. "Half blood."

"There's no Petunia Dudley on here!" The man with the list of names said.

Scabior walked back to Rosalyn. "Did you hear that, beautiful? Your name's not on my list. Which means you don't want us to know who you are."

Rosalyn was barely breathing. "Well it's wrong, I told you who I am."

Scabior stared at her, and Rosalyn tried not to make eye contact. One of the snatchers grabbed her right wrist and she flinched back. Her scar was positively on fire by now.

Scabior, unfortunately, picked up on this. Rosalyn yelped as he yanked her wrist towards him and unrolled her sleeve.

And there it was, not camouflaged, not hidden, not disguised in any way. The lightning bolt scar.

"Change of plan," Scabior said slowly, turning round. "We're not taking this lot to the Ministry."