There weren't many survivors after all, but Daphne hadn't expected there would be. She was still amazed that she and Michael had made it out alive. She decided she could thank Professor Snape for that. It had taken most of the day, but they'd gone through all of the bodies, and Anthony Goldstein, Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood, and neither of the youngest Weasley siblings were among them, which meant that probably after Ron had been taken, the first available D.A. members had gone off with Potter...
Which meant that Daphne might have to witness Michael mourning a best mate yet. She decided not to think about that, though. Instead she just reveled in the fact that they did have Hermione Granger with them, and despite the bad burns, she was up, mobile, and thinking fast. Together, the five of them had managed to round up the last of the refugees. She felt bad that there was nothing that they could do for all those who had died, but even now when they had more than just four people, it would take weeks to... Well, she wouldn't think about that.
Maybe one of the professors would return, and they'd take care of it, or the House Elves. As far as Daphne was concerned, though, it wasn't something that she or any of the others should think about anyway. What they should be thinking about was how to get across the mountains between themselves and the next closest town--be it Muggle or Wizarding, though Daphne hoped it would be the latter. Hermione's injuries would scar if a mediwitch didn't look at her. Plus, they might actually find out just why the Headmaster had disappeared at such a crucial hour... and if those foolish students who'd gone off with Potter were still alive.
Michael and Seamus were leading the way up the mountain. Daphne didn't really know where Hogwarts was located--of course no one did. Somewhere in the highlands about summed it up, and the highlands weren't the easiest things to cross on foot with injured people, but at least they were safe from Death Eaters for the time being.
"Mikey, let's take a break," she called, noting some of those around her becoming winded. Seamus and Michael stopped and turned back. Daphne looked over the handful of students assembled, among them Mackenzie Spinks, the Creevey brothers, and Wayne Hopkins.
"I'm feckin' starved," Seamus announced, throwing himself down on the ground nearby.
Of course, there really wasn't any food. Everyone seemed to know this, because for a while, no one responded to Seamus' remark. Most of them were looking down at the ground, just enjoying the fact that after a long walk, they were getting some rest. But all of them must have been hungry... At least they'd thought to bring water, which was gathered up in containers in the bag Daphne was carrying. Setting it down, she pushed it with her foot toward them. "Just remember it has to last us for a while."
She didn't sit down, though. Neither did Hermione, who was picking her way across the rocky terrain to get to the Slytherin. Michael was talking to Terry and Seamus - civilly, by the looks of it, which was a bit surprising... But then, they had to be civil now.
"I really didn't think it could happen," Hermione said.
Daphne chuckled a bit, though it wasn't a happy sound. "One of the last strongholds of wizards in the area. I'm surprised they didn't get to it sooner."
"Do try not to give us so much hope," Hermione responded dryly. Daphne looked at her. At least she seemed a little better; Mackenzie had been studying a little healing magic along with Daphne thanks to their chosen professions, though what little they could do for the few survivors didn't seem like enough. In addition to the ones she could name, there were a few others that she couldn't, but she had the feeling they'd all know each other eventually.
The fact was, they'd all been in an explosion, and so they all reminded her of how she'd looked when the Death Eaters had left a 'message' at the Leaky Cauldron a while back. It was traumatizing to survive an explosion when so many died. It wouldn't have caught up with them yet. They were still in shock. Most of them, anyway. Daphne had the feeling that Hermione was already working things out.
The Gryffindor shifted her position a little, drawing Daphne's attention back to her. "One thing does get me, though. You and Michael are unhurt, aren't you? I mean, you have a couple bumps and bruises, but look at me." She gestured to the others. "Look at them. You weren't in the explosion."
Daphne nodded, slowly. The thing she couldn't figure out was that why she and Michael had been simply stunned instead of destroyed. It didn't make any sense. "Hey, Michael," she called. "Come here."
Michael extracted himself from Terry and Seamus, looking somewhat bewildered by what she realised must have been a nervous strain in her voice. He drew up next to the two girls, towering over them slightly--he'd grown to be Terry's height when Daphne had first met the stoic Ravenclaw, though now Terry had easily passed the six-foot mark-- and raised an eyebrow curiously. "What is it?"
Before Daphne could reply, Hermione was speaking. "We were just noting that the two of you came out of this unscathed." Her tone was entirely professional, methodical, and Daphne thought that she had met her match as far as repressing things for later went. "Obviously, many were not so lucky, and that was before the Death Eaters entered the castle."
Michael nodded slowly, rubbing his chin. "I've been thinking about that, as well. I didn't see who attacked us," he said quietly, eyeing Daphne knowingly, and she couldn't help but glance away for a moment under the intensity of it. "But they weren't casting the Killing Curse. I got hit first, so I didn't see anything more, but most of those spells were meant to stun, not kill." He turned to Daphne again, his eyes narrowed in a way she'd come to know meant that he had figured something out about her and that it wasn't long before he put everything together.
"I did see someone," Daphne started. It seemed fairly obvious to her who it was--they'd run into him on their way in, after all. Still, as fast as Michael was, he didn't have the handicap of having seen their assailants. "You might say were weren't attacked by the enemy exactly," she added, not wanting to talk about her former Head of House's role in the war aloud... just in case.
Michael eyed her with a frown, but then turned back to Hermione, changing the subject. "Granger, we need food. Everyone's already injured and weak... We have a long way to go to get across these mountains. Somehow we have to find something to eat or some of these people..." he trailed off, deciding not to vocalise that they might not make it because that's how Mikey was. At that moment, Daphne couldn't help but both hate and love him for it.
"So what do you suggest?"
Daphne twirled her hair around a finger as she pondered. It was matted a bit by now, which was peripherally annoying, but there were other things to worry about. She gestured toward Colin and Dennis. "I don't think we're going to be able to catch anything out here," she said, wishing they would have stayed behind long enough to see if they could lure something out of the forest to kill it. After all, there were a lot of trusting animals in there. There was the owlery, too, which might not have been hit. It was amazing that she could even think in these terms now, but she wanted to live. They all did. "Those two are good at Herbology, aren't they? Take them. See if you can find something to eat."
For a moment, it looked like Hermione was going to argue, and Daphne really didn't want to have to tell her that she really just needed to talk to Michael alone for a moment. Perhaps Hermione decided then that a fed crowd was an alert crowd, because she nodded once and turned away.
"We should probably help, too," Michael said after a moment. Daphne looked up at him, then he added, "...Except I don't know a poisonous mushroom from a toadstool."
Daphne probably would have smiled if she could, but that didn't seem like a very proper reaction now. So she just kinda stared at the grey sky until Michael elbowed her and asked, "What's wrong?"
She shrugged. "I don't want the others to know, but I thought you probably should."
Michael nodded, understanding. "You know who attacked us."
"I know who didn't kill us," Daphne retorted, a bit more harshly than she'd meant to. "I still don't know whose side he's on, though. I've been--"
Suddenly, Michael found his arm grabbed by one of the younger survivors who still had a Hufflepuff scarf wrapped around her neck. That didn't particularly indicate which house she was in, though, as the scarf was being used as a makeshift bandage. "Mister Corner. Miss Greengrass. You should come see this."
"Let's go," Daphne said, hurrying after the kid who was already jogging away. Michael fell in just behind her. She hated it when people said, 'You should come see this,' without explaining what 'this' was. This could be anything, and as far as she was concerned, the times were dire enough that she couldn't help but think the worst: dementors, giants, Death Eater strongholds...
She didn't realise that Michael and the girl had gotten ahead of her until she nearly tripped and was thus forced out of her worried reverie. The two had stopped at the summit of the slope she was still climbing. The kid was pointing down at something, and Michael was nodding. By his body language it didn't seem as though what he saw was bad, and she sighed in relief, jogging the last few steps up the incline.
"What is it?" she asked, walking between the two and peering down. The height they were at was one of the greater ones around, so it was possible to see for miles. What she saw was sort of relieving; she could actually see a town, but it was obviously a far trek from here to there. However, at the foot of the mountain they were viewing all this from was a grove of trees and what looked like a waterfall. Clean water, vegetation, and possibly meat. If they could just get everyone down there by nightfall... Everything would be okay. She hoped.
"Go find Hermione," she commanded the girl who nodded and immediately took off in the direction they came from.
"I guess if there's a god, he doesn't hate us after all," Michael mused.
Daphne allowed the barest of smiles as she picked her way back down the incline. A lot was going through her mind, like the fact that the settlement might not be friendly or it might be leveled by the time they got there. Who knew where the Death Eaters were, after all? She couldn't help but be a little pessimistic as she looked around at all the injured. Now that they actually had something to accomplish, the handful of survivors looked like far too many. She wondered when disappointment would set in. When they'd all start fighting. Hopefully not before they made it to the village.
"We should give them all something to do," Michael said, echoing her thoughts. "Keep them from thinking about things too much."
Daphne noticed Hermione returning with the Creevy brothers and the Hufflepuff-scarved runner they'd sent after them. Evidently, they hadn't gotten too far, though it seemed they'd at least located a little food for traveling. Each of them had several large mushrooms gathered in their arms. As the Creevys started passing one out to each person, Hermione approached Daphne and Michael.
"Samantha said you found a town," she stated, holding out a mushroom to each of them. Daphne took it, but eyed it rather suspiciously. "Don't worry," Hermione said. "They're not poisonous. They're a bit bitter, though, due to-- Anyway. Just eat it. It'll help."
Daphne did. It was unpleasantly crunchy, but she was starved. "It's a bit of a walk, but we can get there in good time if we don't stop a whole lot." Idly, she tucked half the mushroom in her pocket for later. Even if it wasn't poisonous, the taste alone might make her ill. "I think we should split into groups. We'd still stay together," she added quickly as Hermione looked about to protest, "But the older students might be able to..."
"Keep the younger ones a bit motivated," Michael finished. Hermione nodded, approving of the idea. And even, to Daphne's relief, took charge of splitting people up.
"Well, I suppose you and Michael should stick together then. Terry and Seamus... Maybe Colin in that group, too..." She wandered off, still talking to herself as she grouped people together.
In all, there were seventeen survivors, which, compared to the number in the Great Hall, was still a depressingly low number. After they were in groups was the first time Daphne had actually bothered to count. Most of those that made it out were members of the DA, and a lot of that number were young. Hermione split them into three groups - Daphne and Michael leading one, Seamus, Terry, and Colin leading another, and Hermione, Wayne, and Mackenzie leading the last. The remaining nine students were split up into groups of threes. It seemed almost odd to have groups, but it seemed to put the younger students into higher spirits. One, a Quidditch player, suggested that they think of team names.
It was Mackenzie that suggested they name themselves after some of the magical creatures that were once found on the Hogwarts grounds. She called her group the Unicorns. Daphne and Michael's group became the Thestrals. Seamus, Terry, and Colin's group became the Hippogriffs.
For some reason, this drew smiles from a few. Perhaps the idea of a little friendly competition was drawing them out of their more solemn thoughts. Though there was no denying the fact that there were many students that died in the Great Hall, people were starting to see that there was still life.
"We weren't all there," One of them spoke up. "A lot of people could have escaped!"
"I bet Harry's already got You-Know-Who cornered," said another. Daphne noticed it was Colin Creevy.
She looked toward Michael. "Are you about ready?"
Michael nodded, but said nothing more. She wondered what he was worrying about now, but everyone was feeling so light-hearted that she really couldn't bring herself to ask right now--even if she wasn't so optimistic to think that Harry Potter was destroying He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as they spoke.
Finnigan's group had already moved out, and Hermione's was quick to follow, so there was nothing left to do except get their own group going. She knew there was no way they were going to get to that town that day. There weren't that many daylight hours left, but they could get down to that little gulley and make camp. Hopefully, Hermione and Seamus would also figure that much out--though Daphne had her doubts about the latter. At least Terry was with him. Perhaps Terry would have sense enough to figure it out.
So they began the brief ascent and long descent towards that small paradise of conifers and waterfalls beyond.
For some reason, the idea of talking on the move was a bit scary now, especially since it had been because of that that Daphne and Michael had been caught off guard in the first place. Granted, there probably wasn't any way they could have avoided the attack, and maybe, Daphne thought, their voices had clued Snape into the fact that they were there. Maybe it had saved their lives. Some birthday present, though.
In their group were a pair of second years and a fourth-year, none of which Daphne knew very well. They were all a dozen paces ahead, and in the near distance, they could see the group in front of them. Michael must have realized the fact that no one was listening in, because he leaned down a bit and whispered, "You were about to tell me something when that kid found the village."
"She's not a kid," Daphne muttered, hopefully delaying the issue.
Michael shrugged. "You were going to say something. I don't know what the difference is... Whether you told me then or whether you tell me now."
Because, Daphne thought, then things didn't seem like they were going so well. Now, there was hope. She didn't want to spoil it for anyone, even Michael. "I know who attacked us. I don't know whether he had anything to do with what happened to the castle or not. Just seems hard to believe." Michael said nothing, and so she figured now was a good a time as ever to tell him. "It was Professor Snape."
She expected him to be shocked, and he was. He shot her a rather disbelieving look before focusing back on the barely-traveled path ahead of him. "You should have let me curse him."
"He didn't kill us," Daphne offered in response, though after seeing what had happened in the Great Hall, she almost agreed with Michael.
It was easier to travel without talking, Daphne decided. Michael must have had a similar sentiment, because he didn't say much of anything else, either, except to give directions or answer a question. It was amazing how he fielded the inquiries of some of the younger students. Daphne would have told them to shut up and keep going... She was so on-edge. Michael seemed to have an answer for everything, though, even if it was just vague or barely reassuring. He was good at that.
Damn Ravenclaws.
Of course, none of them anticipated the fact that they'd run into a certain trial that, when they looked back on it later, it would seem almost comical. However, at the time, their run-in with the local wildlife was rather frightening...
They'd finally reached the little forest, and even though she hadn't really wanted to rest, the younger students with them were looking tired again. It was probably because they were wounded. At any rate, everyone was sitting scattered around the pool fed by the waterfall. The water was ice cold and black, as Scottish waters tend to be, but it was clean and to the thirsty, there wasn't a second thought about ingesting it.
It was about that point that she realized Michael was much more exhausted that he'd let on. He dropped down by the bank on his back, and he didn't even look around or nod to her or anything before his eyes were closed. She walked over to him and sat down cross-legged and contemplated their situation. The second years were taking off their shoes and rolling up their pant legs to put their feet down into the water. Daphne, who really wished she could be doing what Michael was just then, thought about telling them to not go into the water, but it was peaceful in the glade, and so she figured how could it hurt?
The fourth year soon joined them, squealing girlishly over how cold the water was. She thought for a second that perhaps Michael had shown a glimmer of a smile, but it seemed like he was pretty well out of it. She popped her shoulders, continuing to watch the "kids" as Michael called them play in the water. And that's when the second year boy disappeared. Daphne figured that he'd just hit a drop off point or something, but the shriek of the fourth year girl made her think again. She started to jump up, but just at the time that she was moving forward, so was Michael. She tripped over him and found herself falling face first into the pool. She put her hands out to try and brace herself, but worse than scraping her palms was the sheer frigidness of the water. She could hear Michael shouting her name, but the next thing she knew, she was staring face to face with a very large turtle that was holding what looked like a strip of black cloth in its maw.
She surfaced, gasping, and she could hear Michael actually laughing. She really couldn't understand what was so funny about the situation until she saw the boy spluttering a few yards away and holding the seat of his pants. Black pants. It didn't take much to put two and two together.
It was rather funny, but Daphne was always rather temperamental... And she was facedown in cold water, and there was a large turtle nearby...
At the last realization, she quickly pushed herself to her feet, scrambling out of the water with no shortage of splashing. This only caused Michael to laugh harder as she wiped her slightly bloodied palms on her robe. "That was cold," she complained, trying to at least draw a little sympathy. No luck.
The large turtle stared at her for a moment more before spitting out the black cloth and heading off on its way. Angrily, she grabbed it out of the water where it was floating and marched over to the 'kids,' two of which were now having a good laugh at the expense of the boy with the torn trousers. "I'm sure one of you can manage a repairing spell," she snapped, tossing the strip of cloth down on the ground in front of the fourth year girl before marching back over to Michael. He was seated again, still chuckling, his eyes still focused over on the trio of younger students.
Eventually, he looked up at Daphne. She really was relieved to see the mirth in his eyes, because Merlin knew they needed it. "You're all wet," he said.
"Very observant."
He laughed. "Nice fall. I'd give it a ten."
She wasn't quite sure what that meant. In any case, however, she lifted her robe and wrung it out over Michael's head. He gasped as the cold water hit him.
Daphne sat down next to him, smirking. "Now we're even."
"Careful, or I won't kiss it and make it feel better," he chided, wiping the water from his face and dropping back down on his back again. Apparently their charges had decided that going into the water with a clothing-snatching turtle was a bit much, and so they, too, were stretched out on the grass in various states of awareness.
"We can't all just fall asleep here," Daphne muttered with a sigh. "It's not that long until sundown, and we need a fire at the very least." Michael nodded blandly, and she had a feeling it was going in one ear and out the other.
She sighed, and for the second time in the last 24 hours she decided to go against her better judgment, flopping down on her back and using his stomach for a pillow. He grunted softly as her head met the rather vulnerable area. She felt muscles that remembered playing Quidditch--even if he hadn't had the chance to board a broom in some months--clench and then soften again, and he grumbled.
"'m not a pillow."
"You are now," she replied, yawning. She was just going to rest her eyes for five minutes. That was all. Really.