I do not own Harry Potter or gain anything from writing this other than the opportunity of expanding on an already brilliant universe for my own entertainment, and hopefully yours.

The Consequences of Courage

Daphne could still feel Astoria shutter from the lingering echo of Voldemort's voice. She didn't blame her sister for crying, the voice and the things it promised were what nightmares were made of, but Daphne wouldn't give into the temptation to give up anything she knew in exchange for protection. If it weren't for her worry over Tracey and Astoria she wouldn't have thought of such betrayal, but even with them she would never do that to her friends. There was no way she would lay down and let Voldemort kill her and everyone else though, she had her own plans to get her family out safely.

Spending time with Dumbledore's Army taught her a few secrets about the castle that she planned on taking advantage of, and the Invisibility Cloak was still tucked away in her robes. They would make their break for it long before Voldemort reached the Slytherin's in his slaughter.

The thought of such murder was sickening, but she hoped, so badly she hoped, that it wouldn't get to that point. She didn't want Harry Potter to give himself up or anything, she wanted Dumbledore's Army to do what they've been talking about since Daphne met them, she wanted them to fight back. Not just them alone though, they've told her hints about other groups, groups of grown wizards looking for the chance to fight Voldemort. If there was ever a time to make a stand, then it's now. And when that time comes, Daphne won't be joining Tracey and Astoria on their escape through the passage of the one eyed witch, she will be joining in the fight.

Not on the front lines or anything, she had not suddenly gone mad and she knew her strengths, she would continue being what Dumbledore's Army needed her to be. Protecting and healing the wounded was her role, so that they can stand back up and see this conflict over and done with. That fire that began growing inside her since Ginny Weasley came back from a Quidditch match unconscious and broken has only grown. Her passion was no less than Neville's and the rest of the DA's. Despite the terrifying sight of Voldemort she witnessed earlier, she wanted to fight back. And she wanted to win.

For now though, they needed to wait for their opening. The shock and surprise was obvious in Astoria's eyes, and Tracey's been curled up on the pillow since the voice began. Daphne thought she understood what they were feeling. Despite how awful this school year has been, they were still ignorant of how bad things really were. They believed themselves mostly untouchable as members of Slytherin, even Tracey's brief introduction to the Cruciatus and the capture of Luna on the train didn't quite bring the gravity of the situation home. Now that the promise of death was announced quite plainly to them, they were shaken.

Yet they still managed to fill Daphne with pride. The first thing that came out of Tracey's mouth when the reverberations of that awful message faded was to declare they would never betray Daphne like that, they would never sell her out to save their own skins, or even try to sell Dumbledore's Army out to save their own skins. Because they were friends of Daphne's, and any friend of Daphne's deserved to be protected too. She truly loved her family. Hopefully they understood when she told them she wouldn't join them at the hour of escape. That she would be staying behind without them.

Despite her fiery passion, she was bloody terrified. Of an inevitable upcoming fight and of the wait before midnight. It was already eleven, an hour from the promised time. She could imagine what could be happening right now, someone from Gryffindor being forced out of their bed by Death Eaters and dragged down to the Great Hall for their execution. The tears of themselves and their friends and their entire house for the terror to be the first to die. The first of many. Hopefully that first student could be saved. Hopefully they could all be saved. Because if not, if they fight and fail, this might be Daphne's last night of being alive.

The opening of their dorm door made all three of them jump in their bed. Some of Astoria's roommates did the same in the beds next to them, a couple girls that had family of their own sitting with them. Daphne relaxed when it was Pansy that poked her head into the door, looking around until her eyes landed on Daphne. Pansy was the type of girl Daphne would expect to sell out the DA, but luckily she didn't know anything, she already tried and failed getting into the secret room for the Carrows. When her hand extended though, and when her finger pointed right at Daphne, a spike of fear replaced any relief.

'That's Daphne Greengrass there,' she said in a haughty voice. 'The blond one.'

The last word was hardly audible thanks to the loud scream Astoria let out, Tracey's cry not far behind, as Death Eaters began pouring into the room and rushing toward a stunned Daphne. So complete was her shock that she thought not to even draw her wand as she was forced out of Astoria's arms and her wrists were bound behind her back with a spell as she was pushed roughly from the room and up the stairs. But she shouldn't have been shocked, if she thought to use her brain. Malfoy. He knew. Somehow he knew, and he had sold her out to his master to gain his favour and make Daphne Greengrass the first student sacrifice of the Dark Lord Voldemort in his attempt to get a Harry Potter that probably wasn't even in the castle. Not that Harry Potter would probably care about a sacrificed Slytherin.

She stumbled along as her mind thought back to her plan at the beginning of the year. Her plan to keep her head down, to not worry about anything but staying inconspicuous and safe. Joining Dumbledore's Army to heal them was the exact opposite of that. And now she was paying the price.

Her silent shock broke the instant she saw the lifeless body of Horace Slughorn lying sprawled in the corridor outside the Slytherin common room. She screamed at them, trying to scramble from her captors but being held by strong arms and told off by gruff voices. Slughorn was always a cowardly man in her mind, a man that would sooner run than protect and fight. But here he was, lying dead and defeated in an attempt to keep the killers from Daphne, to protect one of the students under his charge.

It always sounded like such a strong thing to do to Daphne, to have the courage to stand up, to fight, to protect those that you're responsible for and care for. Professor Slughorn certainly didn't look strong now though. He looked weak and fat and like a failure.

No! That's wrong! She shook her head violently to try to get that image out of her head as she was fully dragged up the stairs toward her doom. That image was wrong. Just because he didn't win doesn't mean he was weak. He was a strong and courageous man who had to fight too many cowards. There was no way she'd allow herself to remember him as weak, she would remember him as strong. He, like her, was supposed to just keep his head down and mind his own business, to not stand up to the aggressors but to hide from them and avoid them. But like her, he went back on that in favour of doing what's right. And like she was about to, he died because of his courage.

The end wasn't here yet though, there was still hope. Hope in the form of her friends who preached so much about fighting back. There was still time before midnight so there was still time for her to be saved. She couldn't give up yet, she would try to stay strong until the very end, no matter how much she shook in despair that it was over for her.

Fear was all she knew when she entered the Great Hall, and only most of it was due to the man who stood straight ahead of her. Lord Voldemort was facing the other way, the snake still floating above his head, a long wand visible in his hand that he caressed with long fingers. The rest of the fear was for the sea of black surrounding the room. The Death Eaters were here. All of them. At least that was the only explanation for the volume of black cloaks in the Hall.

The sight of one pushed a bit of curiosity into her mind. Draco Malfoy lay on the ground, writhing in phantom pain that was reminiscent of her many patients of the Cruciatus curse this year, his mother and father hovering above him, looking at the Dark Lord in unconcealed fear. He was her betrayer, yet it did not endear his master to him, it looks like he was just at the receiving end of the man's ire.

'Daphne Greengrass.'

The high cold voice drew her attention to the man front and centre, now facing her with a calm expression, but she could still see the rage sparking in his red eyes.

The Death Eaters that had dragged her there un-bound and dropped her unceremoniously to the ground,

where she fell in a heap. Slowly, shaking, she looked up through curtains of blond hair at Voldemort.

'I did not expect the first person to be killed tonight to be from my own most noble house,' Voldemort said, jeers sounding from the surrounding Death Eaters. 'Tell me, Daphne Greengrass, what did you wish to be after graduating from Hogwarts?'

Daphne didn't fail to miss the past tense, but all she could do was answer with the truth.

'H-Healer,' she mumbled.

'Yes, so I've heard,' Voldemort continued. 'I hear you are quite good at it too. A noble profession, but only when using your skills on those worthy to receive them, don't you agree?'

She didn't. Especially not with what he was getting at, but despite her internal protests, she nodded.

'Your friends here have told me you have been … misguided, of late.'

Daphne nervously looked over to where he was gesturing, only for her eyes to widen in shock. The final offer Voldemort presented flitted through her mind, an offer of rewards and life in exchange for information on Dumbledore's Army. Well these two managed to suss out enough to figure it out, she supposed, or maybe Tracey just trusted her boyfriend too much. Somehow her constricted heart felt more for her best friend than for herself. Because while Kevin Entwhistle looked cocky in his betrayal, Stephen Cornfoot couldn't even meet her eye. It was a shame he couldn't, because the rage that crossed her face was meant entirely for him. Entwhistle could go suck Voldemort's cock for all she cared, but Stephen Cornfoot was the boy who Tracey was falling in love with, and more than giving Daphne up, he just broke Tracey's heart, and that was unforgivable.

'Tell me what you know of Dumbledore's Army and where they hide themselves, and you might yet live, Daphne Greengrass,' Voldemort said in a dangerous hiss.

The anger she still felt for Cornfoot helped her steady herself in front of the threat of Voldemort. It allowed her to meet his eyes, where she was met with a sensation she hasn't felt in a long while.

Part of running a business in the wizarding world was protecting your business' secrets. This is why her father taught her Occlumency, as he always hoped for Daphne to take over the family business. The ability came in handy now as Voldemort attempted to delve into her mind and pull out all she knew about Dumbledore's Army.

'I don't know anything,' Daphne said through gritted teeth.

It was unfortunate Voldemort wasn't in a patient mood. Daphne thought she was handling herself quite admirably.

'Crucio!'

Daphne's done a great deal of reading about the Cruciatus curse this year. The curse does not cause any physical damage in itself, but through the effect it has your body can cause physical damage to itself while under the curse. It targets your nerve endings, sending a simple command through them to your brain. The command was to feel pain. Other than injuring yourself in your pain filled state the biggest risk was the damage the curse can cause to your mind. Neville's own parents went mad to the curse, he confided as much to her one evening when he was feeling especially emotional and shareful while both Luna and Ginny were away from Hogwarts and he missed confiding in his best friends so confided in her instead. Reading about it and hearing anecdotes only helped you understand something so much though. To truly understand it, you need to experience it.

She screamed. Though she could hardly hear her own voice over the pain coursing through every inch of her body. So much pain that she thought surely, it wouldn't take very much time at all for one to go mad. Like thousands of knives coated in salt cutting through her skin, stirring her insides while more knives cut into the same spot over and over and constantly. He could have held the curse on her for days already for all she knew. It certainly felt like it.

When she was released she was crying and panting and wishing she were anywhere but there, but her body was suddenly forced upright, and she was staring at two red eyes, unable to blink or look away. The memories were pulled out of her mind ruthlessly and without any hope of fighting off his invasion. The first time she snuck into the secret room and many more times beyond. The healing she did in secret, the conversations she had with the DA, the moments before with a broken Ginny and a blushing Neville and an omniscient Luna.

Anger bubbled up inside her. Those were private. And they did not belong to him. The vision broke and for half an instant she saw those red eyes, then a new vision returned. A door formed from nothing on a stone wall, a room the size of a cathedral with mountains of junk, a tarnished silver diadem with a blue sapphire on the front held in a long fingered hand and placed in a dresser drawer, a bust of a man atop it.

Then she was falling backwards, landing hard on her back and looking up at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, her wand clattering across the floor and away from her.

A frustrated roar made her wince, but the ire of Voldemort was redirected temporarily to the ceiling she was staring at, the spell making the castle shake once more, the stars in the enchanted night sky faded to nothing but plain stone. Perhaps he was angry at allowing Daphne to reflect the spell back at him, though it was also likely he was frustrated by what he saw in her mind, and she had a feeling she knew why. Daphne had no idea how the secret room worked, he wouldn't find what he was looking for with her. A smile managed to form on her lips. Even if she dies now, her friends wouldn't be in danger thanks to her actions.

'Very well, Daphne Greengrass,' Voldemort hissed, and Daphne was once more forced to her feet, though this time needed to stand using her own power, 'it seems your time has come. I will have your companions in due time.'

The tip of his wand extended before him, and the rest of Daphne's world blurred. From that wand tip would come her end. She's heard stories of what it was like to die, though as that statement suggests there's no one alive who actually has any idea what it's like to die. How could they? The dead can't communicate with the living, if they are present in any way at all. She hoped they did exist still, after a fashion, she hoped she would still exist even after the life ending spell from the tip of that wand ended her.

Her mind went to a conversation she had with Luna, a deep talk that had Daphne questioning what she believed was true about the dead and compare it to what she wanted to believe. She wanted to be able to watch over her friends and family, always, but more than that she wanted to have the power to protect them. That much she knew couldn't be the case after death. Because if the dead could protect her, why wouldn't they do so now?

The wand tip glowed green. Her eyes closed. A hand gripped her shoulder and squeezed, not hard enough for her thrumming nerves to feel pain from it, but enough to comfort her. Then the hand moved and something wrapped around her the next second, and she realised that these were not things she would be feeling if hit with a Killing Curse.

Her eyes opened, and for the first time since she saw him giving a sad smile for something he was remembering at Dumbledore's funeral, she was looking at Harry Potter. Perhaps later she'd feel some shame for the relief that flooded through her, but at the moment that was the dominant emotion that ran through her entire being. He wasn't looking at her, he was looking in the direction of the pointing wand, and he wasn't the only one beside her. On her left was a woman with red hair, though there was something strange about her. Something about how she looked made Daphne recall what she was just thinking about the dead, how they could not communicate with the living. The woman too was looking ahead at Voldemort. It was only when Daphne looked to her other side that she let out a gasp. It was as if she were seeing a second Harry, though a little different. James and Lily Potter. It was the only explanation that she could possibly think of, however mad it seemed, though it did make her question how alive she currently was.

Finally turning around she saw a not-at-all familiar dark-haired man with the same insubstantial quality as the ones who may or may not be some form of Harry Potter's parents. It was only when she looked forward again that she knew she was alive. Seeing Voldemort beyond a protective Harry Potter, standing there staring at his arch nemesis, reminded Daphne of the pain she still felt from the Cruciatus curse. She was alive, that pain wouldn't have been present for someone who's dead. Not that she had any experience being dead, though perhaps she'd get the opportunity to ask three quarters of the people standing around her protectively.

At that thought the three spectres disappeared suddenly, and Daphne glanced down to the clatter of something on the stone floor. She felt herself reaching out to it, but couldn't see her hand. She was not dead though, she was wearing her Invisibility Cloak. Potter must have put it on her. It was different, though. It felt lighter, smoother and somehow even more comfortable than it usually felt. Her daze was broken at the sound of a monster's voice.

'Harry Potter,' Voldemort said slowly, almost in disbelief. 'The Boy Who Lived … come to die.'

'Greengrass,' Harry said quietly, still not looking at her, 'you better get out of here.'

The words Voldemort just spoke were ringing in her ears still, and it frightened her to hear them almost as much as it frightened her to die moments ago.

'Potter, I can't just –'

'Leave,' he said, and despite the fact she was covered with an Invisibility Cloak he somehow met her eye perfectly, 'this isn't your fight.'

For half a moment she was brought back to when Neville told her to leave. Except now, Potter had a far better reason for wanting to send her away. The situation was still just as dire even if Potter was here now. They were still just one wand against far too many, and one of them was Voldemort no less. Her own wand was nowhere she could see, it'd clattered across the floor when she was thrown back after countering the Legilimency and was probably pocketed by one of the surrounding Death Eaters. She had something though. The Invisibility Cloak around her wasn't hers, and she could still feel the one in her pocket. Maybe they could manage the impossible and –

Her thoughts froze with her body, the hand that was reaching for her Invisibility Cloak in her robes became as unmoving as the rest of her. Her eyes could still move a little though, and she caught sight of the wand in Potter's hand, aiming back at her covertly for the body-bind curse that was upon her. His wand returned to his pocket.

'Kill me then,' Harry Potter said in a prematurely dead voice, 'but don't hurt anyone else here. Just leave.'

Voldemort smiled then, a wicked smile that was so false a child could see through it. The wand was up once more, but this time the words came with it.

'Avada Kedavra!'

All sound went out of the Great Hall as the green light careened toward Harry Potter. Daphne's instincts were to move, to protect him somehow, but she couldn't. She was trapped. All he did was stand there, staring down his death as if it were an inevitability, and no matter how much she fought against it, she couldn't reach him. At least not until the curse tore through his body and he fell heavily to the ground. She fell with him, the Invisibility Cloak slipping off. She landed on his body, shielding him as if she weren't too late, as if he wasn't already dead.

It wasn't fair, he wasn't supposed to die like this – for her! All year she's been hearing the confident talk of the members of the DA, saying that Harry would do it, Harry can beat him, that there's even a prophecy about it – even if no one ever heard it. At some point Daphne found herself believing it, she began believing that he could do it and end the hell that Hogwarts and everywhere else has become.

Daphne cried, even though she never really knew him she could feel her heart breaking. She'd never seen someone die before, and as a healer, as someone who hates to see people in pain, it tore her apart. And it was all because he wanted to stop a mad man, it was all because Harry wanted to save her life.

Her crying eyes glared over her shoulder at Voldemort, wanting to hurt him for taking her saviour from her, from everyone. What she saw was a mess of Death Eaters crowding around Voldemort who was struggling to regain his feet. She stared defiantly at him, holding Harry protectively beneath her.

Voldemort was handed his wand, and he took it angrily, aiming it immediately at Daphne, the noseless slits on his face expanding and closing with his rage filled breaths.

'You should have run, foolish girl,' he growled, sounding more unhinged than before, perhaps even sounding scared. 'Avada Kedavra!'

Something was moving frantically underneath her, but she refused to stop protecting him. It may not have made any sense protecting a dead body, but she missed her chance earlier so she needed to do it now, at least. The fear she felt about dying before was gone, replaced by an overwhelming desire to protect, and by some magic that was unknown to Daphne Greengrass, she did just that.

The Killing Curse hit her in the back, but it didn't actually make contact, something blocked it. The curse was flung back at the source, flying right at a wide eyed Voldemort, and when it hit him there was more magic than just the Killing Curse.

'Impossible!' he screeched even as the spell collided with him and his body began breaking. The red light in his eyes turned to grey, sinking into his skull that was falling apart as if made of sand, joining in a pile of black ash on the ground.

But it was not the end of the Dark Lord Voldemort. Where the dust fell exploded a darkness, a frightening shade of some sort with a vague mouth that screamed in agony.

Daphne didn't have the time to take it in though, for she was suddenly pulled to her feet and dragged away. In her shock she followed automatically, but then realised she needed to get back to Potter's body. But as she was being dragged out of the Great Hall she saw there was no body where she left it. A moment of panic caused her to turn on the one dragging her and her feet tripped over themselves at who she saw.

'Get up!' a living, breathing and running Harry Potter cried. 'We can't let that thing touch us!'

Daphne quickly did as she was told, she was speechless anyway and incapable of arguing. And not a moment too soon. That strange dark spirit or wraith or monster or whatever it was, did something similar to exploding inside the Great Hall. She and Potter barely made it around the corner in time to avoid that destructive darkness.

They froze huddled together against the wall around the corner of the Hall. Dust and debris flew out of the doorway where loud shouts and the inhuman scream were coming from. They watched as the dust settled, her hands clinging to Potter's arm to cope with her heart pounding in fear. Then just as she thought it might be safe, a dark ghostly shape burst out into the corridor. It was a blackness darker than anything she had ever seen. A barely identifiable face swam the depths of a swirling dark. Black eyes fell on them, the mouth opened, it charged in their direction, crying a wordless scream.

Potter pulled her out of the way just in time before it passed right through them. He brought them into the Entrance Hall, running toward the double doors. Behind them the shade had continued in its momentum down the corridor and out of sight, but Daphne didn't trust it was gone for good. When they made it to the doorway though, Potter froze, and Daphne's attention was brought back forward.

'Damn,' he muttered, watching the scene ahead of them in stunned silence.

At the front gates of Hogwarts a massive battle was being fought. Spells flew on either side of the dividing gate in the night, and from their perspective it was impossible to tell who was who and where their allies might be. It was more than just spell fire though. There were three massive giants by the Forbidden Forest, two of them bullying the smallest of the bunch who was trying to hold his own. Beyond the gate were the vague silhouettes of Dementors and their cries due to the bright light of different Patronus charms battling to keep them at bay.

Potter's wand was in his hand, and he looked like he was ready to join the fray, but then he looked back, and once again Daphne was pulled aside and away from the aggressive darkness that was Voldemort as it barreled past them, the sound of a dark rushing wind buffeting her ears.

'It's after you!' Daphne cried from the ground.

'I can tell!' he shouted back as they both scrambled to their feet and started back the way they came as the shade spun overtop of the battle and came back for another pass.

Potter was no longer holding her hand and it looked like he was trying to put distance between them, but she didn't want to let him get too far out of her sight for some reason.

'It's coming back!' she yelled.

Potter was watching it too, waiting strategically by a corner and diving out of the way when it passed, but then something else jumped on him. Something dark green and long, and it took Daphne a moment to realise it was the snake. It pounced right at his face, long fangs digging into his flesh.

Potter let out a pained scream, and Daphne immediately went for her wand. There was nothing there though, she didn't have it, it was still on the floor in the Great Hall or in some Death Eater's pocket. In desperation she gripped the unicorn horn in the silver brooch on her chest, pulling it free of the magically expanded casing and wielding it like a knife.

The snake and Potter were rolling around the floor, him trying to tear it off himself and it stubbornly holding on with its fangs while wrapping him in its coils. She dove at the writhing mess, stabbing down with the horn and getting lucky when it found purchase into a chunk of thick snake flesh. The serpent released hold of Potter, taking its turn to cry in pain. Then the green scales began to glow a bright white, looking as if it were being torn apart and dissolving from the point of the purifying horn's contact. The destructive light spread down the length of the snake until nothing was left but a comparatively dimly lit corridor and the wound the snake left on Potter's face.

'W-what was that?' Potter asked in awe, eyeing the unicorn horn.

She slipped it back into her brooch, eyeing the wound on his face worriedly.

'It's a family heirloom,' she said, moving up close to him and inspecting his wound closely. 'You might be poisoned. If I had my wand I could –'

She cut off in a squelch when Potter suddenly pushed her roughly back, just in time for the dark shade of Voldemort to miss her and pass right through his body. It passed as if in slow motion. Daphne could see the pain on Harry's bleeding face even through the consuming blackness. It finished through him, and he fell to the ground, limp and unmoving.

'Harry!' she cried, scrambling over to him.

She kept one eye on the wraith as it flew down the corridor then up the main stairwell, not looking like it was coming back, thankfully. Potter was cold to the touch when she reached him, and she started panicking that she didn't have her wand, but then caught sight of one on the floor nearby. Figuring he wouldn't mind her borrowing it to heal him, and not really caring if he would, she started on his face. She couldn't detect any poison but she needed the right potions to be sure. Other than that the more worrying thing was how slowly his heart was beating, and how weak his unconscious breathing was. It wasn't anything she'd ever seen before, it was out of her depth, but she did what she could to speed his heart and warm his cold skin.

Just as she was about to move his body to the hospital wing to get more supplies, running footsteps made her look up. Professor McGonagall was approaching at a sprint, Professors Sprout and Sinestra and Madam Pomfrey were with her. Daphne lit up at the sight of Madam Pomfrey, about to call to her, but more footsteps sounded from behind. Before she managed to turn, a spell hit her in the back, and everything went black.