Rated: T
You can feel the heat encompassing you from every which direction. The only part of you that doesn't feel like it's being put through hell is the part that is pressed up against Harry Potter.
You weren't able to decipher the exact words that Vince had uttered at that horrendous moment inside of the Room of Hidden Things. To be quite honest, you're quite glad you never learned the incantation to evoke Fiendfyre, and you very much wish that Vince had never learned. You watch with abject horror as the brightest flame you have ever seen erupts from Vince's wand. It's so hot that, for a moment, you wonder how you've not burned alive yet.
Immediately, Vince realizes his mistake in bringing forth the fire. He cannot stop the jet of flames that is shooting from his wand, and in a panic, he drops it. You turn tail and run. You'd accepted a while ago that you were most likely going to die at some point during your service as a Death Eater, but you'd honestly rather not be burned alive.
Hastily you begin to scale a tower of furniture, and as you and Greg climb, things begin to fall from your perch. The bile that is churning in your stomach rises to your throat. You can feel it. You're going to die here. From this spot you watch every hidden treasure that this room has to offer burn within seconds.
The sweat is pouring down your temples and into the collar of your shirt but at the moment, you can't really be arsed. You're quite positive the hairs have been burned out of your nose.
From the middle of the blaze, two figures rise into the air of the room. Potter and the rest of the Golden Trio have managed to find brooms somewhere down in the clutter, and of course, you think bitterly, he's going to live. He's Harry Fucking Potter. He's always going to live.
Over the sound of furniture and the items of students past burning to ashes, you can distinctly hear Weasley shouting at Potter.
"If we die for them, I'm going to kill you, Harry!" Weasley shouts, and for a moment, you've got no idea what he's talking about until Potter comes swooping low past you, hand outstretched. All you can think about in that moment is how the tables have turned, how, after all these years, it's Potter that is extending his hand toward you now.
He comes back around, hand still outstretched, and this time, you manage to grab onto it. You don't really know how to describe what it feels like to finally have Harry Potter's hand clutched within your own, but you figure that now is really not the time to dwell on trivial things like word choice. You're pressed against Harry Potter's back, and how you wish you weren't clinging to him so hard that your arms were beginning to ache, and how you wish that you don't have your face pressed against his neck.
Harry dives, and, even with your eyes clamped shut, you can tell that you're nowhere near the door. "The door!" you shout into his ear as he comes out of his dive. You open your eyes to see that he has something clutched in his hand. "Get to the door!"
As you come barreling through the doorway of the Room of Hidden Things, you can't help but wonder just how in the hell you've made it out alive. You're tangled in a heap with Potter, and the broom you were riding on has split in half upon impact with the floor. The one time Potter crashes on his own you can't tease him about it.
You roll on your stomach and sick up. There is so much smoke in your lungs that every inhale crackles. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Potter's surprised face as the small tiara he's holding in his hands splits in half and what looks like ink leaks out of it and onto his hands. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand.
If the Dark Lord makes it out of this battle alive, he will surely kill you for letting Potter get his hands on the tiara. Not for the first time, you hope that Harry wins.