𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒔 ☆ 𝑅𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑙𝑦𝑛 𝑃𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝑌𝐸𝐴𝑅 𝑆𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑁 ☆ 16

Rosalyn was sat by Dobby's grave again. She wasn't crying this time, but her red hair was flying about, the cruel wind whipping her face and reddening her cheeks.

"He loves you very much, you know."

Rosalyn turned round and saw Luna walking up the sand to the grave.

"What?"

Instead of answering with words, Luna handed her a galleon. "What's this for?" Rosalyn asked, coin in her hand.

"It's how we communicated at the start of the year," Luna explained. "They can send messages to other coins and, if you want it to be, all the coins. I sent a message to Neville basically every day when I was trapped in that cellar, but he'd never been as excited as when I told him you were there with me. Or as... scared."

Rosalyn smiled slightly. "I've always felt so... bad about leaving you all at Hogwarts. What you've been facing there is most likely much worse than what we have."

Luna shook her head. "Would you like me to tell him something?"

Rosalyn nodded. "Can you tell him that I'm still alive... and that I've thought about him every single day since I left the wedding... and that I love him... I love him so much."

Luna nodded. "I hope that one day, I'm loved as much as he loves you."

Rosalyn smiled. "You will be, Luna. I promise you will be."

Luna left her to it, then, and Rosalyn sighed. She tried not to think about Neville at that moment, because when she was possibly on the verge of death, she didn't beg to think about those she loved.

☆☆☆

Hermione had just taken the polyjuice and she had transformed into Bellatrix. Rosalyn, Ron and Harry were waiting for her with Griphook, further up the sand from the house.

That's when Bellatrix Lestrange came strolling up. "Well?" Hermione asked. "How do I look?"

"Hideous," Ron answered. Hermione seemed content with this.

"Right," she said. "Come here, Ron, and let me do you, you as well Harry."

They had decided that, to properly conceal them, Ron and Harry would be Bellatrix's 'foreign' friends. Rosalyn would be under the invisibility cloak, ready to help if any trouble arose. Griphook would be on her back, also ready to help. Somehow, Rosalyn guessed she would probably do it more.

"You can give that to Hermione to hold, Griphook," Rosalyn said, gesturing to Bellatrix's wand in Griphook's hand. He had the sword, as well, but they'd deal with that later.

Once Harry and Ron were done, complete with moustaches, longer hair and even different eye colours, Hermione put her hand out, and let the others hold onto it.

"We're relying on you, Griphook," Rosalyn said, as they all joined hands. "If you can get us past the guards and into the vault, the sword's yours."

As she descended into the darkness, she couldn't help thinking that she hadn't properly stipulated the terms.

☆☆☆

They landed in an avenue going off Diagon Alley. Hermione made to walk out of it.

"Madam Lestrange," a man in the street said. He bowed low as if he was afraid of what he would do to her if he didn't.

"Good morning," said Hermione unsurely, before the man walked away and Hermione disappeared into the avenue again.

"Good morning?" Griphook exclaimed in annoyance. "Good morning? You're Bellatrix Lestrange not some dewy-eyed school girl!"

"Hey, go easy," Ron stepped in front of Hermione.