Word count: 364


"Get down!" Dennis hisses, and before Orla can respond or even process what he's said and what's happening around her, she's on the ground, hidden by bushes, and Dennis is holding her close.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demands, and she wants to yell at him, but it comes out as a whisper. Maybe she doesn't know what's going on, but she can sense the tension, and she knows that now is not the time to make some noise.

Instead of answering aloud, Dennis simply nods toward their camp. Orla feels her heart sink when she follows his gaze. Death Eaters and their affiliates walk freely, leaving destruction in their wake. There will be a fight, of course, but Orla doubts it will amount to much. After their loss at the battle of Hogwarts, the remaining fighters fled to regroup. Her group doesn't have many fighters, except for McGonagall, and even someone like her old professor can't hope to win this sort of fight.

She hates it. Just last week, they had joked on Christmas day that it was their very own holiday miracle that their camp hadn't been found. Orla wonders if they jinxed it, if they somehow spoke this tragedy into existence.

"It's okay," Dennis whispers. "It's going to be okay. Just look at me."

And she does. Sometimes it's easy to forget that Dennis is a Gryffindor. He's got a kind heart, and he's a bit of a runt, and hardly the type to belong in a House that prides itself on bravery. But in that moment, she can see it. There is something unbreakable in him, something fearless.

"Just keep looking at me," he says, and he holds her a little closer, like huddling together is enough to protect them.

Even as the screams sound in the background, she looks at Dennis, never taking her eyes off him. He was wrong, of course. It wouldn't be okay, not really. Their friends are getting slaughtered and carted away, and there's nothing she can do about it.

But she's alive. With a little luck, she'll stay that way. Maybe everything won't be okay, but this has to count for something.