Chapter Ten: Fight of Flight

"You okay?"

The words sounded sharp against the dull cacophony of grief-fuelled silence. Harry hadn't spoken to anyone since learn about Hagrid's death, after an hour or so Daphne had been forced to leave him to his anguish, but that didn't make her own heart break any less. The Order were buzzing around downstairs, planning, scheming, plotting, whatever it was that plucky rebels did in the face of their own demise.

"No." Tracey slid down the wall that Daphne had propped herself against, joining her friend on the musty carpet of the third-floor landing.

"I didn't think so. How's Harry?"

"About as crap as you'd expect." There was no sense in hiding it. The entire place was going to be walking on eggshells as the magically battered Boy Who Lived came to terms with losing one of his first friends in the magical world. And she'd not even bothered to get to know him. The Hagrid Daphne had 'known' had appeared some kind of bumbling buffoon the rest of the school tolerated. He'd been nice enough, but that was it. Just a figure in the background, a shadow not important enough to investigate because there would be time. Only there wasn't.

"Ron's not been dealing it well either," Tracey said. "I had no idea they were so, you know…"

"We had other things to worry about. A whole war to fight."

"I know. He'll get better though. Harry, I mean. Ron did, it took him a while, but every day he's dealing with it more."

Daphne hummed her acknowledgement as she let her head fall on Tracey's shoulder. Exhaustion, so deep and inescapable, forced her eyes closed. For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Just for a second, she could be nothing. Not Harry's girlfriend, not her mother's everpresent disappointment, not the blood traitor loathed by so many of her 'kind', nothing. She just was.

But then Sirius' mother started screaming and her world very much came hurtling back to her.

"I'm going to set that bloody painting on fire, I swear to -" But there was more shouting. Running footsteps. The sound of doors banging. The two girls glanced at one another. Tracey shrugged. Daphne tensed. Then, sprinting from the gloom of the second floor, Sirius appeared, his skin white and his eyes wide.

"They've attacked the Ministry. Downstairs. Now."

"What about -"

"I'll get Harry," Sirius said, cutting off Daphne's protestations. "Go."

Grimmauld Place, the house that felt like a mausoleum, was quite suddenly teeming with life. The door banged open and people, some of whom Daphne barely even recognised, flooded into the Order's meeting room. They barely paid them any attention, barely focused on the world they were supposedly trying to save.

All except Lupin, who greeted them in the kitchen. Unlike the Order members seemingly desperate to die in the fight of their lives, he stood by the stove making tea. It was so bizarrely at odds with what was happening in the rest of the house that Daphne wanted to laugh.

"This is it then," Daphne muttered to Tracey as Sirius' mother screamed above them.

"I never thought he'd, you know…"

"No, no, me neither." They were joined by Ron, who looked paler than Daphne had ever seen him, and Hermione. Her face was pinched, scared even. No one said anything. What was there to say? Ron sat stoic and gripped Tracey's hand. Hermione paced up and down, running her hand through her hair. And Daphne? All she wanted was to find out where Harry was.

The answer was not what she'd expected and appeared before them fifteen minutes later. The door practically leapt off its hinges as Sirius, Mrs Weasley and Harry burst into the kitchen. Sirius looked fit to kill the Weasley matriarch, a sentiment she was clearly returning to him. That didn't matter, not to Daphne, whose gaze fell instantly on Harry. There was an odd calm on his pale face as if he'd always known this day would be here and he was at peace with it.

Which was more than she could say for her own racing heart.

"No, Sirius. Absolutely not!"

"Need I remind you, Molly, that you're not his mother?"

"He's just a boy!"

"He can speak for himself!" Sirius snapped.

"I'll do it."

"Do what?" Daphne asked quickly, practically leaping from her seat. "Harry, you okay?"

"Fine." She arched an eyebrow at him. "I promise. I'm okay."

"The Ministry -"

"We know that bit," Daphne interrupted Sirius. "What's Harry doing?"

"We're robbing a bank."

"Now?" Hermione demanded.

"You're joking!" Ron shouted.

"Why not? Voldemort can't be killed, remember? If I was him I'd be using this mighty distraction to get the one thing that kept me breathing. The Order's helping out at the Ministry and the last time I checked, Harry was the only one who knows what this Horcrux actually looks like. Dumbledore was trying to find Slughorn, but... We haven't got a choice. It's now or never."

One of the last visions he'd had before that damn thing had been ripped from him, more than ever Daphne wished that vile thing had never latched onto Harry. Yet the boy she'd seen after Hagrid's death was gone. He didn't waver, nor did he shrink behind Sirius. He simply stood, straight-backed, eyes bright, jaw set. This was what he'd always been meant to do. It was so obvious just watching him. He was the boy who saved the world. It would be ludicrous if it wasn't so Harry. He cared. He cared so damn much. It was going to get him killed. Well, not if she had anything to do with it.

"Dumbledore would forbid it."

"Tough, he's not here. He's at the Ministry. Everyone's at the bloody Ministry, Molly. I don't like this any more than you do but right now it's the only choice we've got. Bill's already agreed, and so's Harry. This is happening."

"No! I won't allow it."

"I'm not asking your permission. Dumbledore left me in charge, this is what I'm doing. You have a problem, take it up with him because right now, Molly, I don't have the luxury of indignation. In fact, I'm fighting to make sure any of us can be outraged ever again. He wins, we're dead."

"Then we're coming too."

"Ron! No! I absolutely will not -" Mrs Weasley erupted.

"If Harry's going, I'm going!" Ron argued.

"Me too," Hermione added, Tracey nodded with a lot less gusto.

"We all are," Daphne said firmly, there was no way in hell she was going to almost lose him only to watch him die raiding a stupid bank. This was his mission, his calling or whatever. Fine. Then it was her's too. There wasn't a word anyone could say to talk her out of it. Whatever Sirius said or Mrs Weasley or her own mother, no one, no soul that still breathed could tell her she was leaving Harry's side for this.

"No, you're not. We need people here, we're going to have a lot of injuries and Poppy can't handle it on her own." Sirius sighed. "Ron, your mother's right. You're technically children and while I know you've all seen more than most could even dream of, it's not up to me. Harry, Daphne, c'mon. You three stay here."

The protests were the loudest Daphne had ever heard, but despite the shouting, only Hermione followed them up the stairs. Sirius didn't challenge it. Her parents weren't in the house for a start, for another, they had no idea what their daughter regularly got herself into. Tracey's mother was likely at the Ministry, her father waiting in one of the many rooms Grimmauld Place had to offer. He could object. Hermione accompanied them on a technicality and one Sirius would happily exploit.

Mrs Black's shrieks filled their eardrums but as Daphne took Harry's hand it was as though she couldn't hear it. The whole world seemed to die around them. It was just them, this one bubble of mild normality. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she hadn't said and may never say. But it would wait. It had to wait. All she could do was squeeze his hand and hope that the squeeze he gave her in return was filled with all the heartache and warmth and love that hers had been.

"In here," Sirius muttered gruffly, opening the door to the room the Order regularly met in. It was nowhere near as grand as the rooms of rebels and conspirators had been in Daphne's childhood fantasy. The candles were almost burnt out and at the centre of the room stood a dark round table. Papers were scattered across it, what looked like notes on Gringotts and the various safety measures they would be facing. They. God, this was insane.

Standing solemnly over the notes was Bill. The usually effortlessly cool Weasley looked haggard. His charisma burnt out, replaced only with desperation.

"What're they doing here?"

"Helping. No arguments, Bill. I've got enough to deal with thanks to your mother."

"They're kids, Sirius."

"Kids who've done more to take down Voldemort than half the Order." Daphne snapped. She was sick of being spoken about as if she wasn't there. Wasn't she sacrificing the same as them, hadn't she given up enough to be taken slightly seriously? Hadn't they all? Voldemort wouldn't care if they were underage, so why should the Order? "And yes, we talk, too."

"Dumbledore -"

"Finish that sentence," Sirius snarled. "Finish it and I'll curse you where you stand. People are dying, Bill. We're out of time."

"Alright. Alright. But you're sure? All of you? Because once we go, I don't know what we're going to find." They nodded and Bill laughed. It was hollow. Dull. Like the eyes that regarded them. "You don't even know what you're doing and you just agree like that."

"We're destroying Voldemort. That's all we need to know." Harry's voice was eerily calm.

"You could die."

"Bill, I've lost count of how many times I could've died." Because that wasn't concerning. If they made it out of this, Daphne made a mental note to dedicate herself to ensuring Harry didn't treat death so flippantly. "Voldemort would target us anyway. At least this way, we can help."

"Harry's right, Bill. We're always going to be in danger. My parents, me, people like me and because of how we're born. Because of blood. Whatever you need us to do, we want to help." There were tears in her eyes and Daphne did her best not to stare.

"I'm just here to make sure he doesn't anything stupid," Daphne added, which got a smirk off Sirius at least.

"I don't like this," Bill persisted.

"You don't have to," Sirius growled. "You just have to do it."

"Fine." Bill took them hastily through the papers, the vaults they were going to target and his plan to get by the goblins. It was based around a much smaller team and certainly not one containing so many Hogwarts students, but after Harry fetched the cloak, that objection died on Bill's lips.

It was a good plan. A strong plan. A plan that would see them walk in and out without even being noticed. It was a pity that when they arrived it almost instantly collapsed.

Because Diagon Alley was on fire.

AN: Apologies for such a short chapter. This is setting up the final section of the story, so the coming chapters will be a lot longer from now on. I hope you like it and I'm looking forward to revealing what's next for our plucky band of misfits.