When Voldemort calls for them on the front lines, they know it's time. Time to make one final decision, one last sacrifice.
"Rosanna, Draco, come." The dark lord purrs, motioning them away from the group, away from Lucius and Narcissa. "I have a rather special task for you."
"Yes, my lord." Draco answers, but as always, Voldemort is fixated on his lion heart.
"You knew the Potter boy. He may still have affection for you," The noseless man whispers. "There's something I need from inside the school. You are trusted, and therefore, you must get it for me. Draco will accompany you, make sure you don't run into trouble."
"My pleasure." Draco nods, putting a protective arm around her.
"What are we looking for?" Ro asks, shakily.
Voldemort's mouth twists into a grin, "Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem."
They apparate into Hogwarts, largely undetected in the chaos. The room of requirement appearing with ease, and they shuffle inside.
Taking a long look around the room, Rosanna sighs, "piece of cake."
Draco runs his fingers over the plat in her hair, reaching the middle of her back. "You say that like we're in a hurry." He replies, equally sarcastic.
"Wanna tell me what the hell a diadem is?" She takes a step toward the first heap.
"Tiara," he motions to his head, as if placing a crown.
"Does everybody dump something in here?" Ro scowls, turning over a dark oak box.
"Good a place as any." Draco recalls exactly what they'd left here. "Do we have a plan yet?"
She shrugs, noncommittal, "going all out has never done me wrong."
"In other words, there's no plan." He narrows his blue eyes at Rosanna.
"If we find it, we'll need something to destroy it." She reminds him, "I think Harry used some kind of tooth to get rid of the diary?"
"Basilisk fang," Draco's heard the story on more than one occasion. "We can't easily get our hands on one of those."
"Good thing we have one." Harry says, startling the pair.
Rosanna turns to her old friend. "Shit Harry."
"S'good to see you too Ro." Harry half smiles.
Hermione steps forward first, the girls meet in the middle, holding fast to each other. "Are you alright?" The brunette asks.
"Can't complain," Rosanna says, as they break apart.
Ron greets her next, "getting a bit round through the middle, don't you think?" He chuckles, squeezing her shoulders. "Might want to lay off the sweets."
"Shut up." Rosanna grins.
"Malfoy's been taking care of you?" Harry approaches her last, embracing her for a beat.
"What kind of back handed question is that, Potter? Just because you're destined to save our arses, doesn't mean I won't hex you." Draco snarks.
"As much as I missed your playful and somewhat sexually charged banter, we have work to do." The pregnant woman reiterates. "We're looking for-"
"Lost diadem of Ravenclaw?" Harry offers.
Rosanna nods, somewhat relieved.
"Brilliant," Ron says, "you guys are with us then?"
"For now Weaslebee, don't get comfortable." Draco replies, half teasing.
The group spread out, and gets to work.
"What will happen if you don't return with it?" Hermione pulls a chair off the ceiling high pile.
"Nothing good." Malfoy replies, tiredly. "Is this the last one then? Horcrux?"
"After this, it's just his snake." Harry can hear the diadem, they must be getting close.
"If we play our cards right, we could still get close enough." Rosanna gnaws the inside of her cheek. "Kill Nagini."
"Then you'll be killed, awful idea Ro." Hermione chastises.
"I've accepted the fact that I'm probably gonna die." Rosanna confesses, still searching through the odds and ends.
"Hey, no one's dying tonight but him." Ron replies, with fierce determination. "We didn't come this far to lose it all now."
Draco and Harry are silent in their work, Harry understands that Rosanna is onto something. He is also in acceptance of his own untimely demise.
Draco on the other hand, is still tempted to take Ro and run. Let the chips fall where they may. He has enough stashed away, they could live comfortably, some place no one would look for them.
They destroy the diadem, heading their separate ways.
Rosanna and Draco coming across a death eater standing over a disarmed Fred Weasley. Thinking fast Rosanna deals her a confundus charm. The death eater woman isn't one they know, only the higher ups were invited to the meetings at Malfoy Manner. Still they can't risk her identifying them.
"Thanks Ro." Fred winks, collecting his wand.
"Don't mention it," she taps his arm affectionately. Still his kid brother's annoying friend, who shows up to eat on major holidays. "Seriously, we're not supposed to be here."
The red haired boy zips his lips with a grin.
Navigating the castle, with Rosanna one week short of her due date, is a nightmare. However most woman go over the nine month mark, which is a comfort to both them.
"Everything's gone to shit." Draco bites out, in a measured tone. His dark mark has gone from twinging, to outright burning. Voldemort is calling him. "It's time we get you out of here."
"Draco," Rosanna grabs his elbow to get his attention. "I can't leave."
"You've chosen a side, you've helped find the diadem, seen it destroyed. Potter is a shoe in." Draco wants, more than anything, to just take her. Hating him be damned, so long as she's alive to hate him.
Just then, Voldemort's voice pierces the veil of Rosanna's mind. Draco resists the invasion, as she puts both hands over her ears uncomfortably. They have one hour to hand Harry over, or Voldemort will take him by force, killing anyone who stands in his way.
"We have to find Harry." Ro says, as soon as the voice stops crooning in her ears.
"Potter told you to keep away from him until the time is right; until the end. If the dark lord catches wind that we've helped him-"
"He's gonna give himself up." If Harry dies, they lose, case closed.
"I'm sure Granger and Weasley have it sorted out. Strictly from a strategic stand point; there are times you must to lose the battle, to win the war. If there is part of the prophecy you must still answer, you have to survive long enough to answer it." Draco reasons, tucking her safely behind a nearby pillar.
"Draco... I don't want to die. I don't want you to die. But more than that, I know I can't live in a world where Voldemort is in power. I can't bring a baby into it. I'm sorry if that's selfish." The words leave an awful taste in her mouth, but she means them; to the core of her being.
"You're not selfish." Draco murmurs, sick to his stomach.
"Then why are you looking at me like that?" She whispers, clearly her words upset him.
"Because I am." He runs his knuckles over her jawline. "I want you to live, more than I want him die." Draco confesses.
Rosanna sighs, wrapping her arms around him. "Stay with me, till the end?"
Draco nods, desperately returning the embrace. Burying his nose in her hair, taking all of her in; and then letting all of her go.
"Harry Potter is dead," Voldemort announces.
The mass of death eaters behind him rejoice. Hagrid is among them, restrained by a rope necklace, held in several different directions. Holding Harry's limp body in his arms.
"From now on, you put your faith in me." Voldemort smiles, proudly. "Those who wish to join me, declare yourselves. Those who are unwilling, prepare to meet your end."
Draco's fingers twitch against Rosanna's, maybe if he holds her tight enough...maybe if he just loves her enough, he can keep her safe.
"Draco," Lucius hisses, extending his hand. "Come on, don't be foolish."
"Sweetheart." Narcissa chimes in, when he make no move to join them. "You can still have everything." Her eyes lock on Ro's.
"We can't have everything, no one can." Rosanna's voice carries through the silent courtyard.
"Stupid girl. I have everything!" Voldemort shouts back. Sending a curse her way, that seems to rebound off the wand Draco is wielding, as he pushes her behind him.
Voldemort begins to laugh, the death eaters join in his hysteria.
It's no secret that Draco isn't the strongest wizard, despite his pure blood heritage. He's never been as skilled as Rosanna, who could cast nonverbal spells. Draco himself is shocked.
"I'd like to say something." Neville limps forward, delivering a speech that will not soon be forgotten. Ending with him drawing the sword of Gryffindor from the sorting hat.
Harry flops, like a fish, onto the cement at Hagrid's feet.
"Potter!" Draco breaks from the crowd, tossing his wand.
Voldemort fires a string of curses Harry's way, Potter avoids them as the walls crumble around him.
"Get inside the castle!" McGonagall instructs the still cheering students.
Harry Potter is alive.
"Are you ok?" Rosanna demands, tugging at Draco's sleeve as they rush past the door frame.
"Yeah I'm fine...were you reading him?" Draco wonders, guiding her inside.
"I was trying to," Ro says, "bad connection. Why?"
"It was like I knew what he was thinking." Draco shakes his head, to clear it. "Could I have been channeling him through you?"
"I guess it's possible," The girl shrugs. "I've never practiced how to do it. Only how not to; this is an entirely new can of worms."
"It was brilliant," he offers, "intentional or not."
"Thanks," Rosanna tries to catch her breath, as they continue their brisk pace farther into the castle. "For the compliment, and for the heroics."
"We need to sort out what to do about wands. You're the only one who has one. If we run into trouble-"
"If?" A voice from behind Draco startles him.
"What are you doing here?" Draco demands of his father, Narcissa beside him.
"My son and grandson are in trouble, where else would I be?" Lucius asks in a clipped tone.
"But you-"
"Not everything is black and white." Draco's father reminds him.
"I suppose it's not Lucius." A tall, raven haired, man says. Wand drawn at his former ally. "Never pegged you for a traitor. A sniveling coward perhaps, but never a traitor."
The two death eaters lock in a duel.
"We need to find Nagini." Rosanna insists. Hermione and Ron were looking for the snake too; before they got separated in the crowd.
"Go," Narcissa nods, "we'll hold them off as best we can."
Draco exchanges a look with his mother. "Thank you."
They spot Nagini on the staircase, slithering toward the courtyard.
"I've gotta get closer." Ro breathes, taking the stairs as fast as her legs allow.
"Come again?" Draco growls, keeping her pace.
"Cover me." She insists, stuffing her wand into his hand; leaving him to tend the two male death eaters that follow them.
"You have no wand." Draco turns his back to her reluctantly, blocking a spell. "Nine months bloody pregnant." He tosses his own hex. Again surprising himself with the force of his nonverbal ability. "And you want to get closer to the giant snake?" Fighting quite successfully as he scolds her.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Rosanna says with conviction, and for a solid second, Nagini is suspended in midair; before plummeting back onto the staircase, with a sickening thud.
"Rosanna, I swear-" Draco is cut off, as the man to his right narrowly misses Rosanna with the killing curse. "She is," expelliarmus, "a piece," stupefy, "of work," crucio. "But she is my piece of work." Avada Kedavra.
"Didn't think you had it in you." The remaining man chuckles, "your father never had the stomach."
"I'm not my father." Draco doesn't owe anymore explanation.
"Wingardium Leviosa," Rosanna tries a second time. The snake is pulled back toward her, snapping at her face, before it's whirled up into the air. Her entire body trembles with effort. Unlike using a wand as a conduit, she herself has become the vessel through which the magic is harnessed.
"Ro!" Ron calls, racing down the stairs, passed Draco to join her, Hermione in tow.
"About damn time." Rosanna replies tiredly.
"How are you doing that without a wand?" Hermione asks, throughly impressed. Few wizards or witches can perform wandless magic that reaches their desired outcome.
"Very carefully," Rosanna can feel herself weakening.
"We've got it from here." Ron assures her.
The blonde all but collapses as the spell is broken, falling unceremoniously onto her ass.
"Don't move." Draco warns, finishing off the older man, before joining her. "You can't do that to me. I couldn't get to you, if something would've happened, there was nothing I could do."
"I'm sorry." She understands, if roles were reversed she'd be pissed too.
Draco checks her over throughly. "You look like hell."
"Thanks," she huffs a laugh.
"Bloodshot eyes, ghostly pale, your lips have no color." Draco presses two fingers to the pulse point at her neck. "Weakened pulse, heavy eyelids. You're going to faint, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I think so." Rosanna relaxed into him.
"Go on, then." He chuckles, stroking hairs away from her clammy forehead.
"Is she dead?" Narcissa sees the girl cradled in his lap, making a beeline for her son. "Draco is she-"
"Don't sound so concerned mother, she's merely over exerted herself." Draco tells her and his father.
"I'm fine." Rosanna argues pitifully.
"You look like hell." Lucius gasps, taking a good look at the girl.
"I'm aware." She rolls her eyes, and the world goes black.
Rosanna comes to, in their bed, at the Manor. She's been rid of her jeans and top, now in a pale blue cap sleeve night gown. The room is still, Draco in the arm chair, his head resting on the bed. Softly she strokes his hair, not wanting to disturb him, but needing him to know she's there.
He shifts slightly, sitting up to see her.
"How long was I out?" She asks tentatively.
"Nearly a day." Now Draco looks like hell.
"You ok?" Ro asks.
"Mhm." He hums, low in his throat.
"No you're not." She knows him.
"What gave me away?" Draco raises his brows.
"It rolls off you in waves." Rosanna notes.
His jaw ticks, "I've never been good hiding it, not with you anyway. But I suspect you know that by now."
She nods.
"I love you more than I should." He says, turning his gaze out the window. "Surely it's not supposed to feel like this."
"How does it feel?" Her brows furrow.
"Like it'll kill me...like I can't live without it;" he lets out a shaky breath, "without you."
"I don't know what it's 'supposed' to feel like." She purses her lips. "But I can tell you, that's exactly what loving you feels like."
Draco climbs into the bed, they find their way to each other. Tangling their legs, her head resting on his chest, his fingers carding her strawberry blonde locks, hers fisted in the front of his shirt. "Stay with me forever?"
"As if you were ever getting rid of me." Ro presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
"Let me up a minute," he taps her shoulder. "I understand diamonds are traditional," his voice is slightly muffled, as he shuffles through the bedside table for the box. "Seeing as we're hardly traditional-" He turns back to her. "Sapphires represent faithfulness and sincerity."
It's a beautiful, deep blue, pear shaped, five carrot sapphire ring with a diamond halo.
"You'd like a diamond..." He trails off when she says nothing.
"No, Draco, I love it." Rosanna kisses him reassuringly, extending her hand to him.
He slides the ring onto her left finger, pressing his lips to it.
Rosanna holds her hand at arms length between them. "What do you think?"
"Perfect."
Rosanna goes into labor in the middle of the night. The first contraction throws her for a loop. She wakes up to use the bathroom, as per usual. Her stomach tightens, not painfully, but harshly enough to demand attention.
'It's late,' she reasons, 'some women labor for days.' Opting to sleep it off...big mistake. The contraction that wakes her ripples through her back, she arches away from it, crying her discomfort into the quiet room.
"Love?" Draco says, voice still heavy with sleep.
"Call Mora." She manages, rolling to her knees on the mattress, elbows supporting her weight.
"You're having contractions?" He is wide awake in an instant.
"Yeah." She confirms, through gritted teeth.
"Remember your breathing." Draco encourages. The house is empty, save for them. Narcissa and Lucius left the day before, to retrieve Rosanna's parents from their 'extended vacation' in France.
"Not like I've been doing it for seventeen years or anything." Ro begins swaying her hips, right, left and back again.
"Humor me." Draco grins indulgently. Making for his wand, to summon the midwife.
Mora, the short, salt and pepper gray haired woman, has delivered her fair share of babies; including Draco himself. The first order of business, is to make the expectant mother comfortable. Her preferred method is potion.
The poor girl is curled up on the bed, forehead resting against their entwined hands. The boy's lips at her ear, whispering his love for her, quiet reassurances that everything will be ok.
"Come now," Mora says, as the tension in Rosanna's body dissipates with her contraction. "Let's get you sorted, dear." She extends the vile to her.
Ro takes it with shaky hands, chugging it down. It takes a few minutes to kick in.
"It won't be painful now, but there will be a bit of pressure still." Mora informs her.
"Pressure is good," Rosanna lets out a sigh of relief.
"You should have called straight away, no need to suffer." The older woman tuts.
"I know, I was stupid. I went back to sleep."
Mora smiles at the girl, "learned your lesson, I presume. Draco tells me you plan on having more children. Next time, call straight away."
"I will." Rosanna makes a mental note. "And just to be clear, how many more?" She turns to Draco.
"If we wait three to five years before having another, then have a baby every year and a half, until we're in our mid thirties-"
"He's kidding." Rosanna assures the midwife, who's eyes have grown comically wide.
"Mostly," he grins, "I'd be happy with a modest handful."
"We'll see." Ro smiles back at him.
"Roll onto your back, let's see if we're having a baby anytime soon, hmm?" The midwife says.
It never gets comfortable, laying naked from the waist down with your knees open, while someone is checking your cervix. But Rosanna is used to it by now, still not pleasant by any means.
"Between four and five." Mora tells her, withdrawing her hand and tossing her glove into the waste basket.
"So what now?" Rosanna wonders, flipping her nightgown back down to cover herself.
"Now we wait." The midwife moves to fluff Ro's pillow. "You could have a bath, read a book, take nap, whatever you like. I'll be in the sitting room, call if you need anything, if not, I'll be back to check you on the hour."
Labor is fast and it's slow. Everything happens all at once, or seemingly nothing happens at all.
Rosanna wanted her mother there, she was nervous. But truly Draco has been more than enough. Supporting her, loving her, making her comfortable; no matter how stupid she felt bouncing on the exercise ball for the better part of an hour.
"Alright," Mora announces, from the foot of the bed. "You're a solid ten centimeters, next time you feel pressure, grab the backs of your knees and bare down into your bottom. Draco, you can join her on the bed."
Draco climbs behind her, his legs bracketing hers. Right arm bent at the elbow, held close to them, stroking the hair near her temple, left arm resting on her bump, which will soon be a separate entity. A baby, their baby.
Rosanna gives a firm push, holding for ten seconds, before releasing her held breath with a huff. It's frustration, the pushing. Mora keeps telling her she's doing it properly, but after thirty minutes she's only just begun crowning.
"Lots of light hair," Mora tells them, "just like Daddy."
A soft knock at the bedroom door takes her mind off the task at hand momentarily.
It's Narcissa, and-
"Mom!" Rosanna would run to her if she could.
"Rosie," her mother comes over to the right side of the bed. "How are you doing angel?"
"I thought you weren't gonna make it." Ro reaches for her hand, tearfully.
"I had a bit of trouble tracking down your parents. But nothing to worry about now, your mother is here." Narcissa moves to excuse herself.
"You can stay." Rosanna offers.
Draco's mother nods, with a small smile, "thank you."
Dixie is outraged. "Rosanna, this woman bred you like an animal-"
"I didn't have a choice!" Narcissa all but howls, she was never happy about their arrangement either.
"You and your husband are cowards." Dixie feels her cheeks redden with hatred.
"We did everything we could, you don't understand." Voldemort would have killed all of them, if they opted not to comply.
Rosanna grunts loudly, bearing down as another contraction tears through her.
"What's the matter with you? Can't you see she's in pain?" Draco scolds both women, his voice breaking at the last word.
"I'm not in pain," Rosanna manages a joke, "I'm in pressure."
"Piece of work," he chuckles, with a shake of his head.
Rosanna pushes with new found determination.
And just like that, the second the tiny baby draws breath, the sacred twenty-eight pure blood families, become the sacred twenty-seven. And just as importantly, not a single person in the room cares.
"Good job baby, good job." Dixie leans down to kiss her daughter's head.
"Oh my god," Rosanna sobs, as the squealing infant is placed on her chest. "Hi honey, hi."
Draco is still in shock, frozen behind her. He's so overwhelmed, he doesn't dare move, for fear he might come out of his skin.
"It's a girl," Mora says in disbelief. Ten generations of Malfoy, never a single girl.
"She's beautiful sweetheart, well done." Narcissa says after a long pause, stroking Rosanna's sweaty hair affectionately.
"She? Are you sure?" Rosanna can't believe her ears.
"That's right my darling girl, you have a daughter. Draco," Narcissa turns her eyes to her son, who still has his arms twined almost too tightly around Rosanna. "It's alright now." She assures him, "you can let go."
Draco loosens his hold on her, moving his hand tentatively to the baby in her arms.
She's covered by a thin blanket, still covered in blood, he can see her light hair peeking through.
Immediately he's moved to tears, his chin resting on Rosanna's shoulder.
She turns her head to kiss his cheek. "Doing ok back there?"
"Perfect." There's so much more he wants to say, but he can't find the words.
The midwife, Mora, waves her wand. The infant is perfectly clean. "Bring her to your breast, see if she'll latch on."
The baby does so almost immediately.
"Does it hurt?" Draco asks, stroking his daughter's cheek as she nurses.
"Everything hurts right now." Ro smiles, not caring.
"You're due for another round of potion, drink them both." Mora tells her, offering two viles. "One for pain, the other to heal."
Rosanna takes then in her free hand, chugging them quickly. Sinking back heavily into Draco, he supports her left arm, where their baby girl is tucked away safely.
Dixie busies herself making her daughter comfortable, tucking her beneath the blankets.
Narcissa propping pillows around Draco's arms so he can relax his tense muscles.
"Thank you, guys." Rosanna says, feeling herself begin to drift off. "It would have been a real shit show without you."
Mora chuckles, "time to rest dearest, you've done your part."
"But I have questions," Rosanna protests, fighting to keep her eyes open.
"And you'll have answers, after you've slept." Dixie assures her.
Ro's blonde head relaxes, into the crook of Draco's shoulder. "I still like Leo."
He strokes Ro's hair tenderly, pressing his lips to her temple. "Leo it is." Draco nods.
The older women begin trickling out of the room, leaving the couple and their daughter to rest.
"I really love you." She sounds high as a kite. "But I think I might be Yankee Doodle done after this one."
Draco chortles, "I love you too, she's more than enough."
A snore erupts from her mouth, before he can finish the sentence.
Leo stirs at the noise, beginning to fuss, Rosanna's nipple slipping from her mouth as she does.
Draco hushes the babe softly, repositioning her tiny mouth to latch on once more. "That's only your mother, a little rough around the edges. But don't worry, you'll love her, just like I do."
"Well?" Lucius springs to his feet, from the arm chair. Where he's sat silently, opposite Rosanna's father, waiting for news. "Is the girl alright? Why was Mora holding out on the potions? You'd have thought she was being tortured up there."
"Rosanna's fine," Narcissa assures him, "sleeping."
"And the baby?" Archer asks, his foot bouncing on the wood floor.
"Beautiful, a little girl." Dixie tells him, feeling herself choke up a bit.
"A girl," Lucius' lips twitch. "Does my granddaughter have a name?"
"She's not your granddaughter," Archer seethes.
"I've just as much claim to her as you do." Lucius squares his shoulders, indignantly. "Draco fathered her."
"Under duress!" Archer moves to stand. "Soon as she's awake, I'm taking my daughter home."
"What about Rosanna? What about what she wants?" Narcissa asks.
"You think you know what Ro wants?" Dixie cuts her off. "I've only raised her from birth, but go ahead and tell me what she wants."
"She wants to be with Draco, with their daughter. She wants to be a proper family and to-"
"To what?" Archer bites out.
"To finish school... she misses quidditch, she wants to be with her friends." Narcissa tells the other woman. "Believe it or not I care a great deal for your Rosanna. She's not what I imagined for our son, or even what I wanted, but she's what he needs." She draws in a breath. "It's a fools errand, trying to keep them apart."
"She's seventeen." Dixie reminds them, as if anyone could forget.
"Of age in the Wizarding world." Lucius points out. "You have no hold on her."
"The hell I don't, she's my little girl!" Archer lunges at him. "My baby, not yours!"
"I am sorry for what's happened, but it cannot be undone." Narcissa says, staring down at the floor.
"They can't take care of a baby. They're kids." Archer says tearfully.
"Which is why we must help them." Lucius hopes to be a better Grandfather, than a father. Maybe he and Draco could still make amends. "Set aside whatever animosity there is between us, and do right by our children. Do right by their daughter."
"Leo," Dixie tells him, extending an olive branch, against her better judgement. "Her name is Leo."