The ceremony was beautiful. Fleur looked absolutely stunning. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves and basking in a joy that only a wedding could create.

"Would the Slytherin princess honour a gentle Gryffindor and say yes to a dance?" Fred bowed dramatically before me.

"Gentle?" I laughed. I was sat alone at one of the small, white-clothed tables, watching people twirling and shaking on the gleaming dance floor.

"I could be rough if that's what the lady prefers?" He grinned, giving me a cheeky wink.

"Gentle's fine." I said, smacking his arm playfully.

Fred took my hand and led me onto the dance floor.

"So tell me," He said, circling his arm around my waist as he gracefully twirled me round to the music. "What it is exactly that you have planned with the golden trio?"

"You know I can't say," I replied, nearly tripping over my feet as Fred changed direction. "Christ, Fred! What's with the fancy dance moves?"

"I happened to enjoy learning those dances for the Yule Ball. I'm guessing dancing isn't your forte, then?"

"No! I hated the dancing. I tried to stay on the edge of it as much as possible."

"I'll tone it down for you, then." Fred grinned, refraining from twirling me round again.

Bill and Fleur waltzed past us, looking so blissfully in love, staring into one another's eyes. I felt a pang in my heart, and a familiar sadness crept over me.

"They look so happy." I whispered.

"Yeah, it's sickening isn't it." Fred pulled a face.

I didn't say anything. I thought of Draco and how I missed him so much. I had no idea if I would ever even see him again.

"Are you ok, Rosie?" I realised that I had stopped moving. "My company isn't really that bad is it?"

"I'm sorry, Fred." I said sighing. "It's just this war. So many are already dead and I- I'm scared who's going to be next."

Fred pulled me in for a hug, kissing the top of my head.

"I know, Rosie." He held me to him for a moment before pulling back and, placing his hands on my shoulders, gave me a heart warming smile. "Hey, on the bright side though, I'm still here."

"You sure are." I said finding myself grinning back.

"You're a good friend, Fred." I added. "Thank you for the dance."

"No, thank you, Rosie. The pleasure was all mine." He kissed my hand and grinning, he walked off.

I returned to the table where Harry, disguised as a Weasley cousin, was now sat, swigging from a bottle of Butterbeer. He looked as morose as I felt.

"Are you ok, Harry?" I said quietly, taking a chair next to him.

He heaved a heavy sigh and shrugged his shoulders. "I've just found out stuff about Dumbledore I had no idea about. In the six years that I knew him he had never even bothered to tell me that his family had also lived in Godric's Hollow."

He slammed his Butterbeer down angrily, making me jump slightly. I knew he had found Dumbledore's death particularly hard to deal with. They had been close.

"Maybe- maybe he thought it too painful to bring up?" I tried placating him.

But Harry just scoffed. "Didn't mind giving me this task, though. This impossible task."

I reached out and touched his hand, well Barny's hand. "We're going to help you every step of the way, Harry. You've got us."

My heart suddenly clenched as I remembered the words I had said to Draco when he was struggling with his own, terrible task. You've got me. Always. Tears sprang to my eyes and I desperately tried blinking them back.

Harry and I sat in a sad silence, watching the other wedding guests laughing and dancing.

"Did you know?"

I looked at Harry questioningly. He was staring ahead into the crowd, absentmindedly ripping the label of his bottle.

"Did you know he was Death Eater?" He continued. Draco.

Harry and I hadn't discussed what we both witnessed that night in the Astronomy Tower. It had been too painful at the time.

"He had no choice." I whispered. I really didn't want to talk about Draco to Harry. We would never see eye to eye on anything to do with him.

An audible hiss escaped Harry's lips. But he didn't say anything.

Luckily, Hermione had chosen that moment to come bounding over, her bushy hair bouncing behind her.

"I simply can't dance any more," she panted, slipping off one of her shoes and rubbing the sole of her foot. "Ron's gone looking to find more Butterbeers. It's a bit odd, I've just seen Viktor storming away from Luna's father, it looked like they'd been arguing-" she dropped her voice, staring at Harry. "Harry, are you OK?"

But if Harry was going to answer her, I'll never know, because at that moment, something large and silver came falling through the canopy over the dance floor. It appeared to be some kind of silver cat and it landed lightly in the middle of the astonished dancers. It was a patronus. It opened its mouth and spoke in a loud, deep, slow voice I recognised as belonging to Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

The patronus vanished and after a moments silence, somebody screamed. Harry, Hermione and I all jumped to our feet at once and drew out our wands.

People were sprinting in all directions, many Disapparating. This meant that the protective enchantments around The Burrow had been broken.

We needed to find Ron, and get out. Now.

"Ron!" Hermione cried. "Ron, where are you?"

We pushed our way across the dance floor, searching frantically. My heart stopped when I realised that cloaked and masked figures were Apparating all around. Death Eaters.

And then Ron was there. Breathing with panicked relief, Harry, Hermione, Ron and I grasped on to each other. We Disapparated out of there, and just before we turned, one last thought entered my mind.

Had Draco been one of those masked figures?

***