Word Count: 720

She should move. Daphne knows that, but she can't bring herself to do it. The rest of her House files out obediently, but she remains seated, her fingers brushing over her emerald and silver tie. Yes, she is a Slytherin, but she is so much more than that. For the last year, she has stood at Neville's side, helping Dumbledore's Army. Is it worth it to turn her back on them now? For what? A chance to hide away, frightened and hoping for the night to end, all in the name of survival? What sort of life is that.

No. She will stand tall and proud, and she will be brave as she does all she can to make things right.

"Come with me if you want to live," Blaise urges, taking her hand in his.

If she's honest, he is the only reason she might consider leaving. But she doesn't she can't. This is her fight too. "I have to do this."

He shakes his head. "You don't have to do anything, Daph. Come on. Please. For me?"

Daphne swallows dryly, her chest aching. Following him is so tempting. Isn't that the sort of thing people in love do? They stay together.

But she can't. Not this time. This is bigger than either of them, and she has to set her own wants and needs aside. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

Blaise lingers, pain flickering over his handsome face. "You're just going to stay and risk your life? For what?"

"What's the alternative?" she demands. "The Dark Lord doesn't scare me. I'm not afraid to fight, and I would rather die for something I believed in than hide away and live a lie!"

"You're making a mistake."

She laughs at that. How many times had she felt that way? "Goodbye, Blaise. I'll try to see you again."

…

This is it, she realizes. It's really happening. "Don't look back," she tells herself, because she knows if she hesitates, even for a second, she might break.

There's no time for emotions now. She is a warrior, and she will fight until her last breath if he has to.

Chaos ensues around. Flashes of light illuminate the castle as spells are exchanged. The noise is almost unbearable, and it takes so much energy to focus as she aims her wand, casting a jinx at a masked Death Eater who tries to attack Seamus.

"Thanks, Daphne."

She just nods and keeps moving. It's all she knows to do. She isn't a brave and bold Gryffindor; if she stands still for too long, she might lose her nerve.

But she doesn't move fast enough, doesn't see the curse that cuts through the air and finds home in her chest. She drops to the ground, screaming as pain rips apart every nerve in her body.

"Crucio!" In the haze that surrounds her, she thinks she recognizes Amycus Carrow's voice, but he sounds so far away, and it's hard to be sure when he screams drown out everything else. "Crucio!"

And then it stops, and she hears the distinct sound of knuckles crashing against someone's face. Daphne cracks open her eyes and sees Blaise there, rubbing his knuckles.

"I'm sure a spell would have been more efficient," he says, "but damn, that felt good. For good measure, though… Petrificus Totalus!"

Daphne trembles as she sits up. Every muscle in her body is weak, and the aftershocks of the curse make moving feel like agony. Blaise kneels beside her, smiling.

"You didn't have to come back," she tells him.

"Of course I did. How could I live without myself knowing you're here, and I'm a bloody coward who let my pride get the best of me?"

"I have to keep moving."

"No. Rest for a bit," he instructs. "I'll stand guard, okay?"

She wants to protest, but she knows he's right. The Cruciatus Curse is hell, and its effects still linger in her body.

For now, it's okay to take a break. Blaise is there, and that makes everything feel a little more hopeful.

Smiling softly, just a subtle curl of her lips, she nods. They're going to make it out of this. They're going to do so much more than just survive. Daphne knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that they're going to really live.