Draco paced his bedroom. He was angry. They wouldn't let him out. He didn't have a wand. He was trapped.

It had been two days since they had Apparated here from the castle. Once news reached them that Potter was actually alive and had killed Voldemort, his father locked him straight in his room like a prisoner.

"It's for your own good," he hissed through the door. His father had put extra magical charms on the door and windows so he couldn't break through them with force.

Draco was desperate to find Rosie. He had no idea where she would be or even if she was OK.

Potter had actually done it. But he couldn't allow himself to feel relieved until he had Rosie in his arms again.

He stopped pacing when he heard the chimes of the front door. He leapt to his bedroom door, pushing his ear up against it, desperate to hear news.

Footsteps ascended the stairs. It sounded like more than one person. The footsteps grew louder and Draco jumped back as he heard his door being unlocked.

The door opened and his mother stepped inside. She looked at him sternly and took a deep breath as if steeling herself for something.

"You have a visitor."

Draco couldn't believe his eyes as Potter stepped in behind her. His expression was serious.

"W-What...?" Draco stammered. "What's going on?"

"She's dead." Potter said flatly. "Rosie's dead."

No. Everything around Draco tilted. No. She can't be. Not Rosie. Not his dear, sweet Rosie.

Draco staggered. He suddenly couldn't remember how to stand and the room swayed as he dropped to his knees. The sound of rushing blood roared in his ears. He was only acutely aware of Potter approaching him. He held something out to him in his hand.

It was Draco's ring. The ring he had given to Rosie.

Draco shakily took it and squeezed it in his hand as he desperately tried to stop the tears from falling.

She was gone. She was really gone.

***

Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell.

Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse.

After a moments silence, celebration filled the air around him. He couldn't see for Ron and Hermione's fierce embrace.

They had done it.

Harry lifted his head and scanned the cheering crowd around him. He saw Rosie stand up, her tired face glowing with relief.

And then she turned around and disappeared from the Hall.

He pushed Ron and Hermione aside and went after her. He needed to thank her, to say sorry for ever being cold towards her. He needed to let her know how much their friendship over the years had meant to him.

He watched as she ran towards the retreating cowards that called themselves Death Eaters.

No, Rosie. His heart hammered. She couldn't possibly be going after him, not after he chose them. He chose them over her and yet she was still running after him. Kind, gentle Rosie, who could never see the bad in anyone.

His feet pounded on the ground as he ran after her.

"Avada Kedavra!"

And then his heart caught in his throat as he saw her body being tossed in the air like a rag doll.

NO! She couldn't die for him! Not for that git!

The Death Eaters dispersed and Harry saw her body slumped on the ground next to a shattered rock. His legs couldn't reach her fast enough.

He dived down pulling her body to him. Her eyes were closed, but he noticed, to his utter relief, the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

She was still alive!

The Killing Curse must have missed her.

***

"Draco?"

Harry flinched.

"No, Rosie. It's me, Harry," he whispered as he bent over Rosie's hospital bed. She had been unconscious for nearly two days.

He watched her take in her surroundings, confusion etched all over her face.

"Where am I? What's happened? Where's Draco?" Her voice grew panicked as she started to sit up, tugging at the sheets that bound her to the bed.

Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her.

"It's OK, Rosie. You're OK," he soothed, but a bewildered expression remained in her eyes. "Someone shot a Killing Curse at you, but it missed. It hit a rock next to you. The blast knocked you out, but you're going to be OK, I promise."

"Harry, where's Draco? I need you to get Draco."

"He walked away, remember? Back to them."

Harry's fist clenched. He couldn't understand why she still asked after him after what he did.

"He was trying to protect me! We thought you were dead, Harry!" Tears filled her blue eyes and Harry's heart clenched. He leant forwards putting his arms around her as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"The Malfoy's ran off before the battle ended, Rosie." His voice was gentle now, trying to get her to understand. "He was already gone when you went after him. He left you there to save his own skin."

"No, no." She sobbed. "He had no choice, Harry. He never did."

Harry couldn't believe she was still defending him. Couldn't she see that Malfoy was nothing but a coward? He would always put himself first, and yet Rosie was willing to die for him.

There was a gentle tap on the door and Harry turned his head, his heart warming as Ginny entered.

"Sorry to inter- oh Rosie! It's OK, don't cry, everything is going to be alright from now on."

Ginny swept over to the other side of the bed and took over comforting Rosie from Harry. Ginny looked up at Harry questioningly as she stroked Rosie's hair. Harry mouthed Malfoy to her and they exchanged silent looks.

"I just need to stretch my legs for a bit," Harry explained to Ginny as he quietly left the room.

Harry's head was still spinning from the events of the last forty eight hours. He had a lot of emotions, all fighting to be the dominant one, and it made his head hurt. He didn't know whether to feel elated or angry, happy or sad. Yes - he had defeated Voldemort, but it had been at the cost of many innocent lives.

As he was pondering his thoughts, Harry noticed a woman up ahead who looked familiar. She was hiding her blonde hair under a grey shoal and was looking around as though lost. It was Draco's mother.

Shaking with anger, Harry approached her. He did not want her to see Rosie. He did not want her upsetting her.

She clocked Harry approaching and her eyes widened. Whether in fear, he did not know.

"What are you doing here?" He spat. "Shouldn't you be on the run by now with your husband and darling son?"

She visibly flinched, but did not retort in anger.

"He's refusing to come. He just keeps asking about her." The disgust on her face was evident.

Harry didn't need to ask to whom she was referring to. "She doesn't need him. She is better off without him. She is never going to get better with him in her life." He growled.

"For once, Potter, we agree on something." She glared at him.

"So why are you here?" He just wanted her as far away from Rosie as possible.

"I was going to tell her to stay away from my son. But now... now I have another plan. A better plan. One that will ensure he will leave here forever with us."

Harry was listening.

***