Your footsteps echo through the burning castle. The screams and shouts of battle were far away and almost muted against the sound of your own heartbeat.
It was loud; it was fast; it was filled with fear.
"It's all your fault, it always is."
Those were the last words you had heard from your brother before he had disappeared into the depths of the castle. He had run away from you and into the unknown, too angry to care about anything but getting away from the source of his anger.
The only reason you hadn't gone after him was your own anger that had flared at the idea of running away, of not fighting to continue learning magic. You had allowed your Gryffindor to temporarily blind you, and you regret that more than ever now.
You didn't know why you had suggested such a stupid idea anymore. You were both underage, with very little knowledge of magic even with the training you had received in those DA practices. It wasn't enough, and you should have realised that earlier.
Learning magic isn't worth your lives. You understand that now, after you had seen too many still bodies staring blankly at the ceiling, after blood coated the floor you had once stared at while eating.
You don't even think to fight now, hiding in the shadows until both friend and foe had disappeared, and searching only for Dennis.
Dennis was smart and had probably hidden, you reassure yourself every time you search an empty classroom. If you had only listened, the two of you would have been safely burrowed away in Hogsmeade, or wherever the rest of the Gryffindors had been sent. You would have been eagerly waiting for the news of the Dark Lord being defeated by Harry Potter, because you know that there was no other possible outcome. Having two more people doesn't change the outcome of a war.
Your hands shake and your knees grow weak as you're assaulted by image after image of your dead or dying brother. Being brave isn't worth the cost. You would much rather be sorted into Hufflepuff immediately than lose your brother. You know that you would do anything to get him back safely.
And you're aware that anything may be exactly what you have to do.
You see Dennis's red shirt first. You see the black-cloaked Death Eaters afterwards, and your heart nearly stops.
Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin; none of it matters anymore. All you know is saving your brother from those heartless Death Eaters. It didn't matter what you have to do, but you know that you would do it. You would keep the promise you made to your mother to always protect your younger brother. You don't think that this was what your mother had in mind when she made you promise, but it was what you were willing to do to keep that promise.
It was your first bout of accidental magic since you had come to Hogwarts, and you didn't care how it happened, but it was getting cold now. The Death Eaters weren't moving either, but Dennis was.
Written for
Hunger Games Competition: #23
Quidditch Pitch: "It's all your fault, it always is."
Investment Property: Word count building: 500-550 words