Daphne felt quite out of her element, though not entirely uncomfortable. To some extent, they were all dreading going into the castle because they could already smell the scent of decay hanging around the grounds. It wasn't pleasant, and it was a task none of them were looking forward to. Daphne, however, was facing a different kind of challenge. She was being a friend.
Apparently no one had really realized how devastated Mackenzie was over the incident in the Great Hall. After reliving it through her words, she was virtually torn apart, and Daphne found herself calming the Ravenclaw down. Max was leaning on her shoulder now as they walked, which wasn't exactly practical or easy, but it worked well enough. She just didn't want to go back into the castle. No one did; at least they wouldn't have to go into the Great Hall again.
There was a blur of grey and black that darted in front of them and through the broken castle doors, and Daphne supposed that the local wildlife would be starting to make homes in the now-deserted castle. Of course, that was something else they'd have to look forward to. Hopefully they wouldn't run into anything terribly hungry inside. The three thestrals Hermione and Seamus had taken from the hospital were standing just outside the large doors, but they, at least, looked to be well-fed. At least something was happy, though the fact that the horselike creatures were probably hanging around the castle because of the smell seemed to make them all uneasy.
As they walked through the corridors, no one really spoke. It was as if they were visiting a grave, and they were quiet out of respect... perhaps a little fear. No one knew for certain whether or not all the Death Eaters were gone, and just being in this area was enough to set everyone on guard. They'd done quite a good job at destroying the castle. At one point, the former students looked out a missing section of the wall and noted that one of the towers seemed to have collapsed on itself. How long had it been standing before that? Five hundred years? A thousand?
The library was in good shape. In fact, it didn't look like it had been attacked at all. Of course, it was suffering from the castle's structural damage, and the floor shifted on its base as they walked across it. At points they could hear the heavy wood and stone beams below them shift and creak dangerously, and it wasn't just a light warning when Michael told them all to walk softly.
They found Seamus and Hermione in the restricted section as predicted, looking up various types of shield charms. "We found a few," Hermione said as she looked up to greet them. "It's obvious why they're restricted, too. Look at this one."
Terry picked up the book, skimming over the page for a moment before his eyebrows shot up. "I guess that's how Harry survived when he was a baby…" He handed the book to Michael who skimmed the page and handed it to Daphne. Mackenzie looked over her shoulder.
"The one under it isn't much better," Hermione replied. "Most of them require either blood or someone willingly dying…"
"Blood magic is the most powerful, isn't it?" Mackenzie asked, hiccupping.
Hermione nodded. "Yes, it is, but it's also extremely dangerous if it goes wrong… because it is so powerful." She sighed, and dropped another book on the pile. Michael bent and picked it up, dropping down to sit cross-legged beside Seamus and Hermione. He was immediately intent on his readings. Terry sat down beside him and picked up another.
"So, anything that doesn't involve death and gore?" Daphne asked.
Seamus shook his head. "I don't reckon there's much… The one's that don't require human blood generally require something like dragon blood… And sure an' you're just as likely to die tryin' to get that as you are trying to fight Death Eaters."
"Here's one," said Michael, his finger running over the page as he began to read. "To procure a shield as hard as diamond, one must… Oh wait, never mind. You have to burn ten runes into your own chest. Ugh."
"But one thing I'm wondering about," Seamus murmured, "is that sure an' I thought Harry could resist the Imperius Curse. He did it in Moody's class back in fourth year, and from that article in the Quibbler, it seems he did it again even though it was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who cast it on him so."
"Yes, but that just means that he's in even more danger than the others... Because he is the only one who is strong enough to resist it," Hermione replied, worrying her lip. "If we just run in there, we'll end up canon fodder for Voldemort--" everyone except the bushy haired girl flinched visibly "--to use against Harry. I'm really worried about him. Harry is really brave, but if Ron or Ginny or me... Well, he could never raise a wand to us, which means we have to get to Harry before he finds..." She looked at the others in exasperation, as everyone flinched before she even uttered the name. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
Mackenzie and Daphne crouched down with the others, taking books off the stack that Hermione had made. For several moments, the room returned to silence as the six former students focused on searching for the right spell. As she read, Daphne thought back to what Lupin had told them. Someone had seen Ginny Weasley, Ernie Macmillan, and Luna Lovegood in Salisbury two days ago. No sign of Harry or the others, and no bodies yet. No one had seen Dumbledore, Snape, or McGonagall since then either. Several of the professors were presumed dead, including Sprout and Sinistra. All in all, it seemed that Kingsley and Lupin were as lost as they were. However, they did tell the four that the Ministry was already making steps towards taking care of the bodies at Hogwarts, which was a small reassurance, but one nonetheless. Daphne couldn't say why, but it seemed that the two adults had been hiding something...
...And Hermione was hiding something, too. Everyone was. People knew things they weren't saying, even though this wasn't a great time for keeping secrets. Everything should be out in the open among them all. Hell, most everyone was eighteen now anyway, and they were all practically thrown into their adult lives before they even had time to say goodbye to their childhoods. Daphne thought specifically of Seamus, who never would have offered a hand of friendship to her at Hogwarts. People were different. The only think that remained the same was that no one felt obligated to make sure everyone knew everything they needed to.
"You know, people have died," Daphne said, abruptly disturbing the quiet of the library. A couple of the others jumped at the voice, while several pairs of eyes turned to look questioningly at her.
"That's why we're goin' through the books," Seamus said. "Because we're tryin' to stop anymore from dyin'."
"No," Daphne said. "No, I mean, everyone has these little things that they know... Secrets. Don't you think it would be best if we got everything out in the open?"
Hermione looked up from the book she was reading. "Look. There's things I'm not saying for a reason. Not everyone has to know them."
"And I'm sure Professor Lupin had a reason for not telling us everything they knew," Terry added. "You're a bit stressed. Everyone is. It's all right."
Sighing and sitting down, Daphne leaned back against Michael's shoulder. He leaned in a bit so that she was comfortable, and the two of them went back to paging through the books. Daphne was only skimming over the text, though. Her thoughts kept returning to the Ministry, and things that people were purposely leaving out. What would they not be saying? If she could rule out what they would say, perhaps she'd be left with some idea of what they wouldn't? It was bothersome. She didn't want anyone going to face You-Know-Who without the full story.
Perhaps by omitting key elements, Lupin and Shacklebolt hoped to dissuade anyone else from going after Voldemort. But some people were going i anyway... /i
"This one's not bad." Mackenzie pointed to her book. "But it drains you just to cast it, and it doesn't last long."
"Put that one aside, then," Hermione replied, not looking up. "It may have to do."
Daphne couldn't help her sigh of irritation. She sat up again, and Michael paused in his reading to look at her in concern--one brow arched faintly. "Yes, why don't you all just run into it knowing only small bits and pieces and doing what's good enough? That will really help everyone!" She wasn't quite sure when she had gotten to her feet, but she was starting to feel so angry the room seemed to blur. Behind her, Michael was gently trying to tug her robes, as though that would abate her anger. She yanked free of him and loomed over the others. "If that's all that any of us are good for why don't we just let Potter do it himself? He's probably far more capable than any of you!"
Hermione's jaw dropped, as did Mackenzie's. Terry shook his head, and Michael was trying to reach out again for her robes again, so again she moved away from him.
"I hope he knows everything, because with what we know what's the use?"
"At least we're doing something!" Hermione retorted, also moving to her feet. "You and Michael are just running away!"
She could see Michael wince, and it only further fanned the fire. "That's because we're intelligent enough to know we're of no use to Potter or any of the dullards that went after him!"
Even Michael's jaw had dropped at that, though he didn't actually protest.
"Is that right? As far as I see it, you're cowards!" Hermione spat back, her temper obviously fraying now, too.
Daphne clenched her jaw so hard it hurt. She thought it might lock up for a second, and she knew that if she didn't just walk away, she'd probably end up slapping Granger the Know-it-All who was always so much better than everyone else. Ha! Shows what she did know, because Granger was just as useless as Michael and Daphne, but at least Daphne knew she couldn't help! She wasn't living some foolish dream in which she thought she was some kind of hero. It was just so pathetic. She squeezed her eyes shut.
"I'm going to go check on the thestrals. I'll be back in a little bit," she said, forcing her voice back into an even tone.
Hermione eyed her with a frown and sat back down, turning her back to the Slytherin. Mackenzie looked like she was going to cry again. Terry had just returned to reading like nothing had happened. Seamus was staring at her, but she could see that Terry had one hand on the Irish boy's, keeping him in check. Michael was just staring off into space as though he wasn't sure what to make of it all. How the hell was this lot going to be of any use to Potter? It made no sense whatsoever. She sighed, running a hand through her hair and turned to leave the library.
She shouldn't have blown up like that. It was stupid to throw that divide in among all of them when they really were doing their best. Hermione's words stung, too, but that was the least of her worries. They weren't running away, after all... Daphne was totally convinced that she and Michael were going to find some way to help elsewhere. After all, when they all went in and got themselves killed, there would have to be a third line! Why was she even thinking this way?
She sighed again, leaning against the wall just outside the big library doors. The once-Slytherin had no intention of going to check on the thestrals, because that would have taken her right past the Great Hall again, and she didn't want to be anywhere near it right now. It seemed like the whole world was shattered into a million pieces of glass and they were all trying to piece it back together with their bare hands. It just. Wasn't. Working.
Her eyes turned to the stairwell leading upward. If she followed it, it would eventually take her to the Gryffindor tower. She wasn't exactly sure why she felt the need to head up in that direction, but she did, climbing higher and higher into the castle that was now far too quiet. A few portraits still hung on the walls, but their occupants were departed, so no one spoke to her as she went. No one questioned why there was a Slytherin heading deeper into the Gryffindor sector of the castle.
Even the magic which caused the stairways to move was now dead.
Not that it really mattered anyway. Perhaps her argument with Hermione was just... Almost a willingness to bring back that old rivalry. Make it okay again. Make it seem like they were all still students and they still had a reason to hate each other if they wanted to.
At last, she stood in front of what would have been the portrait guarding the Gryffindor Common room. It was just an empty hole now, though. The portrait had been removed. Daphne stepped inside, ignoring the creak of the floor under her feet.
Even as dilapidated as it was, the Gryffindor common room was still rather cheery and warm… Sort of luxurious with all the reds and the few tapestries that did still remain. Slytherin and Ravenclaw didn't look nearly this good lately… She walked over to the fireplace and ran her hand over the mantle. Months' worth of dust piled under her fingers, and she sneezed softly. There was a soft creak around her, as though stones were moving, but seeing as she was in a tower, she figured that's probably how it usually sounded. It must have been eerie for the Gryffindors. After all, every day they had to hear that creaking and groaning. They must have thought the stones were going to come down on them any minute. Then again, they were Gryffindors. Maybe they didn't care about that—too brave or foolhardy to worry about such paltry matters.
She walked over to one of the windows and peered out. She could see the remains of the other tower, and she realised that must have been Ravenclaw. For a moment, she paused, trying her best to empathise with what the others with her had felt upon really seeing their home totaled. She found she couldn't do it. There was a soft sound behind her like something with claws was scratching around, and she turned to see if it was perhaps a rat, but nothing was there.
She shrugged and walked towards the stairway leading further up into the tower. The stones seemed to moan softly around her, the whole tower seeming to sway with the wind, but even so, she continued up the stairs. She'd never seen the Gryffindor dormitories, and this might perhaps be her last chance. As long as she was here...
After a while, she stepped into one of the dormitories. It was still furnished... There were even, she noted, a few personal belongings still here. A few robes were tossed here and there, and by the size of them, this must have been the dormitory for some of the younger students. She couldn't tell if it was the boys' or girls' dorms, though... Following the Slytherin layout, it would have been the latter, but who could really tell? Gryffindor was always so backwards.
There was a wall hanging that was just lying on the floor now, and, crouching down, Daphne took it into her hands. It would have been beautiful once... All red and gold with the Gryffindor lion on the front. Courage. Very few people knew that the snake - Slytherin's own mascot - was a symbol of trust and friendship. People were too busy looking at the snake as a being of evil to note anything else. Not that Daphne minded, as she much preferred keeping a few people close rather than a whole lot. She wasn't a Gryffindor. She wasn't a beacon of courage. But she had her friends, and she just wanted to protect them.
She stood again, and the floor creaked as if it were in pain. For a moment, Daphne felt a sting of fear, but that passed with the sound. Still, she figured it was about time to get out of the tower, and so she gently set the tapestry on the nearest bed.
The floor groaned again, and, oddly enough, she heard the sharp cry of a panicked cat somewhere behind her. Turning, the girl saw the creature - the one that had followed them into the castle, which was the same one that she'd seen in the alley outside the Ministry. It looked familiar somehow, but she didn't have time to think on that.
The boards under her feet dipped down, resting on their stone supports below. They were already unstable, so they shattered. Sometimes when people go through an ordeal like this, they describe it as happening in slow motion, but this went by all too quickly. Daphne felt herself fall, and felt the uncomfortable sensation of pain all over as... Was it stone? Something felt as if it were attacking her. She cried out in surprise, reaching out for something, but there was only air.
Eventually she hit the bottom and crumpled painfully, and she heard a voice - an old woman's voice, strangely familiar - call her name. There was no time to ponder on that, though, because something heavy - a lot of somethings - crashed down on top of her. Daphne's vision swam red for a moment, and then she gave up her fight to remain conscious.