A/N: I have fallen massively behind in review replies, due to work, life, and re-finding my inner Trekkie (Star Trek wins at life!), but I'm trying to catch up. There may be a Star Trek fanfiction brewing around in my head too, all thanks to the movie.
Thank you to everyone who is continuing to read this story and who's been putting it on their alerts and favoriting it. I really do appreciate your support. And, as you know, I do not own Harry Potter.
Chapter 42: Back into Hell
The two Slytherins stepped through the barrier that led onto Platform 9 ¾.
Daphne Greengrass looked around her. The only thing she could see of colour was the vibrant scarlet and deep black of the Hogwarts Express' engine, with its whimsical gold letters painted on the side. The families that had arrived early were huddled close together in protective clusters, as far away from the statue-still sentries posted around the perimeter of the station.
"What the hell are the point of those monstrosities?" she asked Blaise Zabini in a hushed tone. "Are they just going to watch us? Are they going to arrest people? Curse them?"
"Would you rather they do that than nothing? Right now, they're fairly harmless."
She looked at Blaise dubiously. "They're never harmless. Waiting for them to do something's the worst part. Ever since they took Luna away—" She shivered. Suddenly, she felt Blaise slide his hand into hers.
"What're you doing?"
"Trying to get my straight on!" He hissed at her under his breath. "Carrows at ten o'clock."
Daphne straightened up and tightened her grip on Blaise, watching Amycus and Alecto stride towards them. She pressed close to his chest, tilting her head into his shoulder, feeling comforted that her winter robes, although rather ratty, were thick enough to feel like a shield between her and the sinister figures.
Daphne mustered as genuine a smile as she could at the two Death Eaters.
"Miss Greengrass, Mister Zabini," Amycus Carrow said with a leer. "Slytherins sticking to their own kind, I see. Such a pretty, pretty sight. Don't you agree?"
Daphne stifled a gag. "Yes, sir. I do." She gave him an obedient bow. She had been dreading this moment ever since yesterday, when Arthur and Bill had escorted her to Eddie's place to meet Blaise, so the two Slytherins could make the trip to the Hogwarts Express together. The holiday at the Burrow, despite its ups and downs, had provided both her and Ginny a far greater respite from the hell of the school year than they had expected. To return to this dangerous unknown made Daphne quiver with fear and uncertainty. Both feelings that she now masked as the pair of Death Eaters surrounded her and Blaise.
Alecto stepped towards her and peered at her coldly, making her blood freeze in her veins. "I still don't trust you, girl! Anyone associated with Mudbloods and blood traitors is a scourge on our society."
"Now, now, Alecto," Amycus drawled, keeping his eyes trained on Daphne — and Daphne alone. "Severus swears by this girl. Says she is one-hundred percent on our side."
To her horror, Carrow reached out and took a handful of her hair, letting it fall between his fingers. Blaise tightened his hold around her shoulders.
Amycus leaned forwards, his warm breath hitting Daphne's cheek and ear, the rotten odour from his mouth pushing into her nostrils. It reminded her of the foul stew Molly made for Carrow's Ministry allies.
"There is something very, very sweet about you, dear Miss Greengrass." His voice cut through her chest, his words feeling more and more threatening despite their outward banality. "I shall have my eye on you."
She felt her stomach churn as Amycus touched her arm and drew closer to the side of her face. Her eyes sought some other friendly sight as Blaise secured his grip on her.
"Daphne, let's get your trunk on the train so you can start your duties."
Wordlessly, she nodded at him, somehow managing a smile at Amycus. "I-I'll see you back at the school, Professors." Bowing her head quickly, she jerked her arm away from the Death Eater, hoping her motion wouldn't be too conspicuous.
She pulled Blaise into the train with her, making sure her trunk was secure in the prefect's compartment. She doffed off her winter robes, stuffing it as tightly as she could on the shelf next to her things. "That's it! You're never leaving my side."
"That was totally unreal," Blaise whispered. "What a sick fuck!"
"We're warning all the witches. All of them." Daphne peeked her head up and down the corridor of the train, watching as younger students started filing on board. "At this point, I don't bloody care if they're on our side or not. I'm getting worried about Carrow's intentions towards the females in our student body, not to mention Crabbe, Pritchard and Baddock and whoever else is associated with them."
Her eyes caught several tall figures emerging from the brick wall onto the platform. She peered through the misting window . . . and a smile emerged on her face.
"Michael," Daphne said softly, grinning at him. "He's with Terry and Anthony." She wanted to wave, but forced herself not to, lest she get caught. Blaise lowered his head to look at the three wizards. Both Slytherins noticed something odd about them.
"Er, Blaise? Do you see what I see?"
"It looks like — did Corner grow a beard? Wait, they all did!"
Daphne's grin morphed into a chortle, and then into a hearty laugh. "Merlin! It's less a beard and more a . . ."
"Dehydrated kneazle?"
She swatted Blaise. "'S'not that bad."
"Greengrass, if Eddie ever did that to his face, I'd strap him down in a chair and shave it off him!"
"I'd think you do that anyway."
Blaise glared at her flatly and muttered a foul swear.
"Well, it's a good thing I'm not you then, Blaise." She reached for her Galleon to send Michael a message. "I have to see him. I'm telling him I'm on the train."
Daphne pocketed the coin and looked back outside the window, pressing her fist against her mouth, muffling a burst of laughter. She watched as Michael picked up the little gold disc and read it, a grin barely peeking out of his newly bearded face. He motioned to Terry and Anthony to bring their things into the train and jogged towards the Express, moving faster and faster the closer he got.
"I'll go outside and wait for Theodore."
"Not to mention Carmichael," Daphne added, loud enough for only him to hear. Blaise shot her a glare as he exited the train, rushing past Michael with barely a nod. She held her breath, her heart pounding as he approached the door, flanked on either side by Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein.
Since they were finally closer to her, she noticed that all three wizards had newly grown facial hair in varying stages of coverage, colour, and evenness. Surprisingly, Anthony's brown beard looked the best developed of the lot. Terry's surrounded mainly his chin and his mouth, making him look a little like a Muggle swordsman from ages past, similar to one on the cover of a book Daphne had read as a child.
Although he was normally a handsome dark-haired bloke, Michael's facial hair had grown in a slightly uneven and patchy pattern. Despite the calamity, Daphne could feel her heart swell as she saw him, overjoyed that he was all right. He looked up and down the corridor, seeing whether or not she was actually on the train.
"Psst."
Michael's head snapped to the left. "Daphne?"
She beckoned him over to the dark, empty cubicle she had found. "Michael. Come here for a moment."
He turned to his two friends. Anthony merely rolled his eyes, but she noticed he was smirking at the pair of them. Terry nodded at Michael. "We'll keep a watch out and get settled. Go to her, mate."
And Michael did, squeezing himself into the small, dark area with Daphne.
"Hey," he said, slightly dazed, but clearly happy to see her.
"Hey," she said right back.
Without another word, he kissed her, the shock of the sudden, unexpected, but wonderful contact nearly making her forget how to stand. They wrapped their arms around each other; the feel of their lips touching elicited little moans of pleasure at being back together. She didn't mind at all feeling the soft bristle of his patchy beard. She simply wanted to stay here, wrapped up in his wonderful scent and his arms.
"Merlin, I've missed you." Michael whispered softly, pulling away from her lips reluctantly. "The holidays were . . . they were a bit rough."
"Rough? Did something happen with Terry?"
He blinked several times, as if the rapid motion might stop a sudden, unwanted onslaught of something. "Christmas was hard, but we all got through it. And there was some other stuff we've been working on. For us and Neville." Michael said nothing more, instead touching his thumb on her cheek. "Not pleasant. Not pleasant at all."
He didn't continue speaking; Michael merely rubbed her skin with the pad of his fingers.
"You're not going to say what it was, are you?"
He shook his head. "Don't want to spoil this right now."
"You realize you could be more mysterious, right?"
He softly snorted and continued to cup her face. Daphne took the quiet moment to scratch his chin, currently covered in dark hair. "Is this the big surprise you wanted me to see?"
Michael rubbed where she had touched him, smiling a smile that did not fill his face. "One of, I suppose. Do you like it?"
She didn't want to dash the hopeful glint in his eyes, so she nodded. "Yeah. I saw Tony and Terry followed suit."
"It was Terry who started it. We just followed his lead. Solidarity and all that."
"Gotcha," Daphne replied, grinning. Then, she swallowed. "I need to see you tonight after dinner."
"Why? Is something wrong?"
"No, nothing's wrong. I have a belated holiday gift and I need to see you privately to give it to you."
He waggled his eyebrows, visibly brightened by this news. "Really? Like, as in the early holiday gift you gave me? Because I really want to give it another go. Like really bad—"
Daphne rolled her eyes; she playfully smacked him. "No, you randy bugger. It's — it's a serious gift. But I need to give it to you alone."
Michael's eyes roamed over her face and Daphne tried valiantly to keep herself from smiling too broadly; she wanted to make sure he understood that she was telling him the truth. After a minute, he nodded. "Yeah, all right. There's a classroom at the base of the West Tower. Will that do?"
"I'll be on patrol until twelve o'clock. Can you and I meet at eleven in that classroom? I'll get Anthony and Padma to help me cover my shift."
"Perfect." He gave her anther kiss, his lips lingering softly on hers. Daphne hummed, letting bliss wash over her body, loosening the tense knots that had been building in her since her run-in with the Carrows.
"Oh, bloody hell! Before I forget, make sure you tell Anthony and Padma and all your Housemates to watch out for Amycus and any students that are following him this year. He said some disturbing things to me."
Michael instantly shot up to his full height, and Daphne could imagine the hair on the back of his neck standing up. "What do you mean, he said disturbing things to you?"
"He said he'd keep an eye on me, but he said it in this really perverse and vile tone."
She felt a tremor run through his body, his hands tightening on her arms. "Daphne, if he so much as touches you, I'll kill him."
It was Michael's calm tone that shocked her; he sounded resolved, as if that course of action was the only normal one to take. Feeling heaviness in her heart, Daphne sought to quell his fears. "No, it's nothing I can't handle. Just tell the girls in your House."
He watched her for a spell and, finally, he nodded. "Neither you or Ginny heard anything about Luna yet, have you?"
She shook her head. "If we had, we'd have sent it out over the Galleons. There's been nothing. No updates. No word about where she is or how she's doing."
He flashed her a resigned grin and allowed himself one more peck on her forehead. "I'll get back to the others. If you need help—"
"I'll come find you. I'll come by your carriage once the train starts moving."
He gave her one last smile and turned back towards his mates. Daphne leaned against the walls of the cubicle, feeling both lucky that she had this insane, but wonderful, relationship to help her escape from the war, and yet profoundly sad that the war changing them. All of them.
Even Michael.
Allowing herself a few moments to linger on the happier thoughts of her and Michael Corner and empty classrooms, she went back outside to tend to her Head Girl duties.
"This is bullshit!"
Neville stormed into the compartment, Parvati shutting the door behind him, hastily casting Muffliato to prevent eager ears from eavesdropping. The train lurched, throwing the Gryffindors towards the opposite side of the tiny space.
"The prefects meeting gave us a ton of information, and it's not good." Neville took a seat next to Ginny. Parvati sat on the opposite side with Seamus and Lavender. "The Carrows're going to make sure the prefects punish any student that breaks the rules or suffer punishments of their own."
A chill ran down Ginny's spine. "Punishments? On you and the other prefects? The Cruciatus or whippings or—?"
"It could mean a whole lot of things," Parvati said with a sigh, sitting down next to Lavender who was practically in Seamus' lap. "Carrow said he was 'getting tired of disciplining everyone single-handedly'." She mimicked his voice with an exaggerated sneer. "Although he had no problem recruiting Crabbe, Goyle and some of their cronies to help. Not all of them were Slytherins either. A couple of students from other Houses joined them." She shivered as she remembered what happened last term.
"That old saying, about there being a few rotten apples in every basket. Guess that's still true." Lavender added.
Seamus shook his head. "This is insane! What does this mean, Nev? Wha' d'ya want to do about the D.A.? We're still goin' through with the stuff we'd planned out at the end of term, right?"
He looked at Seamus and the others with a smirk. "What do you think? I wasn't sorted into Gryffindor for nothing."
Seamus grinned back and smacked him on his arm — hard. "Fuck right you're a Gryffindor, mate! So, Neville the Great, give us the rundown about what fun we can expect."
Neville groaned as he stared at Seamus' eager face. "We're not starting with nicknames, are we?"
"I was tryin' to get everyone to call ya Captain Bubotuber, but tha' didn't play well."
After a moment of Neville trying to hit Seamus as the girls giggled and clapped, he answered the Irish wizard's question. "Besides extending punishments onto the prefects — there's one. Curfew's been raised an hour earlier now. Vandalism of any kind can be punishable up to a week in the dungeons, at the discretion of the Carrows. And there's talk of them using some other methods on us, not just the Cruciatus or the whips."
"Other methods?" Ginny's eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"
"It means we need to be prepared. The Ravenclaws have been doing research in this area. Not that they looked all that happy with what they found out."
"Anthony said that knowing what to expect is probably as good as anything as we can do to prepare ourselves." Parvati's eyes fell to the hem of her skirt as she fiddled it nervously between her fingers. "It's going to get worse from here on. The only thing we can do is find ways to survive it."
"While not losing ourselves, right?" Ginny asked. Her eyes met Neville's. His face was drawn, darker than usual due to his perpetual five o'clock shadow that never seemed to leave his face. She noticed that there were scars around his cheeks and forehead; they were sealed, of course, but still visible, and a cut on his top lip.
He looked down into his hands. In his palms was a Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper and his D.A. Galleon. When he noticed Ginny staring at him, he flashed her a small smile and pocketed both.
"Know as much as we can," he said after a moment. "The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws are planning their own little activities. So said Susan and Padma at the meeting."
This perplexed Ginny. "Wonder what that means, exactly?"
"Haven't the foggiest. But Padma said we'll find out about Ravenclaw's during the next Muggle Studies class. Susan said the Hufflepuff's plans weren't quite ready."
Lavender shivered. "If there is one class I'm not looking forwards to, it's that one. Well, that and Dark Arts."
"Well, at least we're all going to be in there together, er almost all of us." Neville shot Ginny a sympathetic glance. "You'll be with the entire sixth year class."
"What do you mean?"
"Another one of the Carrows' decrees, although this might be coming directly from Headmaster Death Eater himself. For the rest of the year, the Carrows' classes're going to be packed. All seventh years in a single class, all sixth years, and so on and so on."
The three other Gryffindors looked at Neville, and let out low whistles.
"Wonder what that's all about?" Lavender asked.
"I'll bet they want all their Slytherin cronies in their classes with them so they can help with 'discipline' and all that other rot." Ginny said bleakly.
"Probably. Maybe they'll think they can manage all the students giving them headaches with the ones that'll follow every order. It also means that they're tinkering around with the schedules. Muggle Studies for the seventh years are now Monday mornings, and Dark Arts for us are on Wednesdays."
Ginny shook her head, staring out the window at the ever darkening sky. The scenery, as blurred as it was from the carriage of the Express, was obscure with rain falling from dark grey, almost black clouds. The landscape too, was dead, dotted with patches of white from the last snowfall still visible.
This was not turning into a good start to the term, although Ginny never expected it to be anything but. Despite her occasional restless nights of sleep while at the Burrow, and worrying about Luna, she had been with her family, feeling their love and warmth surround her.
She remembered hugging her dad on the platform. They had barely made it before departure; typical, as the Weasleys always ran late.
"You are my little Gingersnap," he said. Ginny felt him rock her back and forth as he kissed her temple gently. "You will always be my little Gingersnap."
"I know Dad," her voice was thick and heavy with moisture. She pulled away, her resolve to not cry breaking when she saw tears in her own father's eyes. She swatted the water away from her face, unable to stop sobbing.
"Be careful, Ginny," he pleaded with her, his voice barely a whisper. He touched her hair lightly. "I love you so much. Sometimes it feels like you're the only child we can keep safe."
She could only blubber stupidly; her tears were interfering with any coherence. "D-dad, I love you too." Ginny pulled away and turned to her older brother.
"You still mad at me?" he asked, his voice humble, his head low. However, Bill looked at her with a smile. And with that, she knew she couldn't stay angry with him. Not when there was a chance that this could be the last time they saw each other. She flung herself into his arms and squeezed him as hard as she could, feeling her tears start anew.
She was beginning to wonder whether she was actually sixteen. Crying came so easily to her this year that Ginny couldn't help but think she had regressed back to that frightened eleven-year-old, unable to stop writing in a diary that seemed to understand her far better than she understood herself—
"I miss Luna already," she said, snapping herself out of her own thoughts. Ginny turned back to the others, in time to see Neville's face fall.
"I've been so worried about her ever since they arrested her and Xenophilius. Where the hell would they take her, of all people? She's bloody Luna for Merlin's sake!"
Ginny snorted. "Unfortunately, Xeno's working with the Ministry now. We strongly suspect Harry and others," she said with a sharp look, "were responsible. After all, Xeno's house practically blew up."
Neville and the others laughed for a moment. "Maybe we need to rename the D.A. Luna's Light Brigade."
"There's Nargle Navy too. I'd think Luna'd even vote fer tha'!" Seamus said, grinning and crossing his arms. Ginny gave him a playful kick to his shins. Lavender and Parvati both laughed.
"I didn't realize how much Luna gave to us, you know? It was subtle, but she always knew what to do, what to say to keep things going." Parvati hummed and looked out the window. "She knew exactly what to say to Terry after he lost his family. Padma was very impressed with how she helped him deal with the loss."
Neville nodded slowly, looking at some point indiscriminate point beyond the others. When his eyes returned to meet theirs, he scooted forwards in his seat. "I haven't been a great leader."
There were several protests.
"Nev, yer off y'rocker!"
"That's mental! You've been our rock!"
"Neville, no one else could've done this."
"Do you think we could've done what you did after they tortured you?"
He shook his head. "What the hell've I've been doing for you, huh? Running drills here and there, posting signs all over the school, showing pamphlets to the students. Fun and games really, but as for being a bona fide leader, I haven't done much leading." The other tried to object, but Neville continued speaking and the others fell silent as they listened to him.
"Things are going to change now. I want us to pledge, here and now, that for the remainder of the year, so long as we can stand, fight, breath, walk, whatever — we take any of their curses we can. We will stand between the Carrows and the students. Whenever we see another student getting hurt, we'll block their spells with our bodies."
Seamus blinked. "Sounds like a barrel of laughs. Whatever y' need, mate, and I'll have yer back. We both 'll be, righ' love?" He squeezed Lavender's hand, his eyes meeting hers; the couple seemed momentarily lost in a gaze of serious contemplation.
Ginny interrupted the quiet. "It's a good thing Daphne, Blaise and I all have a fresh supply of Wheezes and Decoy Detonators to muck around with." One batch had been stashed away in Daphne's trunk. Daphne had also managed to covertly stash a supply of Wheezes in Blaise's belongings as well. They had a neat charm around it to slightly Confund any individuals who dared to pick them up. Daphne had hoped being that no one would bother searching the Head Girl's personal property, same for Blaise's truck; he did have some status around Slytherin, enough that he flew under the radar not only with their Housemates, but with the Carrows as well.
"Good. Those'll come in handy," Neville said approvingly.
"You know something? Our bodies'll be broken by the end of the year, taking their curses over and over again. So we need to learn far more healing magic than we already know."
"Well then, Lavender, you can work with Padma, Anthony, Susan and Ernie then, as our official Healers." Neville grinned as she blushed.
Seamus leaned over to kiss her. "Love, if y' ever need a patient, I'll let y' examine me. Give me a full physical." He waggled his brow.
A chorus of groans and one "Shut it Shay!" cut through the carriage.
Neville spoke up again. "I also know that Anthony and the other Ravenclaws have been researching ways to condition our bodies and minds to the absorption of the Cruciatus, as well as how to minimize the impact of our spell casting if we're ever forced to cast it, for whatever reason."
Ginny swallowed, trying to push down the lump in her throat. "You mean if we ever come up against a Daphne – Luna situation again, right?"
He nodded. "There may be a way to modulate our voices separate from the intent of casting the spell. I know Ravenclaw's on it. They've also been looking at other information that might be helpful to us."
"Like what?"
Neville's face was grim. "They'll tell us a little more at the first meeting. It's not going to be pretty. But first, all of us have got to make it through this first week. And, most importantly, Muggle Studies and Dark Arts."
Silence befell the car. Ginny took the opportunity to look out the window, night falling as thick as a deluge.
"It gets dark so much earlier these days."
Dinner wasn't a pleasant affair, at least for a majority of the students. They were surrounded, yet again by dark sentries, same as the ones at the Sorting Feast. The new rules were laid out in Snape's unfeeling drawl:
The new curfew, the violation of which could get a student up to one day of detention.
The new rules to deal with pro-Muggle-born and pro-Harry Potter vandalism, which could earn the delinquent a day or a week in the dungeons, and all the hospitality that entailed.
And all the other possible violations of the Hogwarts student code. Punishment for disobeying any one of the rules could result in corporal punishment in varying degrees and intensities.
Daphne was on the ground floor of the West Tower, finishing tacking up the last of the parchments outlining the discipline policy. She let out a groan. "This term already makes the last one feel like a birthday party."
"At least no one's been tortured today," Padma replied.
"Yet. Daphne, it's two minutes until eleven. We've got it covered on this end."
She nodded at Anthony. "You two going to be okay?"
"Positive."
"I have my Galleon. If you need it—"
"Daphne. Just go."
She waved at the pair of Ravenclaw prefects and started walking towards the corridor that led to the empty classroom. She wasn't sure if Michael was already there, as she had just arrived at the tower. It was quite possible she missed him.
Daphne knocked on the classroom door and chanced cracking it open. "Michael?" She looked around inside the dark classroom, moonlight streaming through the big, cathedral-style windows. "Michael, it's me."
She shut the door behind her. "Michael—"
"Hey, Daphne."
She spun around to her left and saw him. Right as she was about to smile and say hello, he took her face into his hands and gave her a sweltering kiss. His scent of spice and freshly washed linens filled her nose as he snogged her for the second time that day. Michael's fingers wove into her hair, pulling her closer to him and he led her to bench, gently guiding her to sit down.
He sat down next her, kissing her cheeks, her forehead, her nose. Daphne could see him smiling in the moonlight.
"I really missed you." Michael touched his head to hers. She smiled, letting herself enjoy the warmth of his presence. "Your holiday was all right, then?"
"Mmm . . . there were some things that happened—"
"Things? What things?" He looked at her, slightly alarmed.
"I'll tell you later, okay? But, I've got something to give you. It's, well, it's more important than what happened during my holiday." Daphne stood up and opened her robes. Thanking Merlin that it was still dark so he couldn't see her blush, she lifted up leg and started rolling down her stockings.
Daphne sensed him shift in his seat, and heard him let out a meek groan, one that told her exactly what was going through his mind.
"I thought you said we weren't going to do that."
"Calm down, Mikey!" She giggled. "Boys!"
"Well . . . we're going to have to find some time so we can, y'know—"
"What? Play Quidditch, so you can catch the Snitch again?"
"Y-yeah."
Daphne grinned and shook her head, and tapped her wand to her calf, muttering the incantation softly. "Is that all blokes think about?"
"Pretty much. Terry reckons we think about it every ten seconds. And it gets exponentially worse once you've actually done it."
"Cheeky monkey." Daphne peeled away the brown parcel that the twins and Molly had helped hide on her leg. She held it out to Michael in both her hands.
"This is for you. What I did on Christmas Day. We visited a safe-house. Can't tell you which one, but you'll understand when you see what this is."
Michael stared at her, perplexed. "For me?"
"Yes. You should read it. And you should look at the picture inside."
"A picture? Mm-hm. This is getting very interesting." Michael cocked his eyebrow and chuckled softly.
"Not in that way, you prat."
"Such a shame." He unsealed the folded parchment, and opened the letter.
"You need to read this under better light," Daphne said, pulling out her wand. "Lumos!" The tip lit up the area enough to allow Michael to read the note.
He started reading out loud, in a jovial voice. "'Dearest Michael, it's felt like ages since your father and I saw you . . .'"
His voice faded, his face melting into shock. Daphne could hear the soft flutter of paper as his hand trembled, his breath halting and nervous. Time felt like it had stopped as the realization dawned on him that this was a message from his parents.
He read the rest of the letter to himself, his eyes scanning every line, swishing back and forth in the light of the wand. A few times, Daphne heard Michael sniffling and she could see him wipe his nose. Other moments, he smiled, even letting himself laugh as he read. "Mum's such a sap."
"She said you'd say that."
Michael gazed at her, hardly believing what she had just said. "You met them?"
"I did. They personally gave me the letter, and we took a picture together."
He scrambled to the end of the note and to the photograph attached to it at the bottom. Daphne had secured it to the parchment with a little bit of Spellotape to ensure she wouldn't lose it. It felt like an eternity passed in the seconds that Michael stared at the image, holding it up closer to Daphne's wand to see every little bit of detail that he could.
"Th-they're waving, Daphne. My mum has her arm around you." She could tell his eyes were shining in the low light, hear his awestruck voice and the smallest tremble coming from the back of his throat. "Merlin . . . is that Ginny?"
"She met your parents too."
He guffawed and slouched against the desk. He ruffled his hair as he continued to stare at the letter and photograph. His fingers were pressed against his lips; for the first time, Michael Corner was at a loss of what to say.
"They asked all sorts of questions about you," Daphne began softly. "And Terry. There's a mural on the wall of the safe-house, with drawings of the victims of the attack in November."
He said nothing, but his eyes were wide and roamed over her face. Even in the soft illumination, Daphne could see the moisture building in his eyes and the tremor in his jaw.
"There was drawing, a nice one, of Terry's parents. Their names and an epitaph." She bit her lip. "Terry's dad was holding a football."
Michael let out a long, shaky breath. "Merlin."
"They asked me a lot of questions about you. And Anthony and Terry. They were really worried about you three. Um," she mumbled. Maybe it would be all right to bring a bit of levity to the moment. "I refrained from saying that we shagged the night before we left Hogwarts."
He chuckled softly. "Wise move. Thanks for that."
"They're really nice. That's what I thought at least. Dunno if they liked me."
"Daphne, look at the picture again." He pointed at her image and she angled her wand so the light covered a broader area of photograph. The smile Michael's mum wore as she hugged her was truly warm and familiar; Daphne had seen it many times before on her son's face. John Corner, too, looked down at her; there seemed to be real happiness emanating from both adults.
Wiping his eyes, Michael managed to flash Daphne a truly joyful expression. "This is the best Christmas present I've ever gotten. I can't believe you met them. And took a picture with them."
"Courtesy of Colin Creevey."
"Creevey, eh? I'm going to thank him as soon as I see him again." Michael continued to study the photograph, shaking his head back and forth still stunned at this belated present.
"Honestly, it was Molly and Arthur who made this possible. I think they arranged the visit so we could celebrate Christmas at the safe-house and so I could meet them and give you this letter. Really, you should thank Ginny's parents."
He nodded again. "Maybe I will, but first." Michael laid the parchment on the desk behind him. Cupping Daphne's cheek with his hands, he tenderly pulled her face towards his, kissing her with fluttering lips. His touch was so light and soft at first, Daphne could barely believe his lips were on hers. Slowly, it built in intensity, his mouth firm and strong, but never too much. She grasped at his robes, at his jumper, once again letting everything that was Michael Corner fill her from the centre out until she felt like exploding.
"I love you." He whispered the words against her lips. "I love you so bloody much."
Daphne shut her eyes, wanting to say it back. But it always sounded empty in return. Spontaneous declarations were the best, the most real, in her opinion. And surely he knew how she felt about him, since she brought him this note.
"I do too." It was all she could manage in a choked voice; she hoped it would be enough. When she felt him touch her hair, his arms wrapping around her waist, pressing her close to him, Daphne thought maybe he knew exactly what she was thinking.
After a few more minutes, both teenagers got up and adjusted themselves. They needed to get back to their respective destinations. Michael to the Ravenclaw common room and Daphne to finish the last few minutes of her patrols.
"Daphne, tomorrow in Muggle Studies, whatever happens, don't interfere. Okay? Not with me or Tony or Terry or—"
Her peaceful mood was wrenched away with his warning. " What do you mean, don't interfere? What the hell do you lot have planned?" Michael had the same odd glint in his eyes, the same nervous hitch of his voice as he did on the day Terry was tortured.
When he had implied to Daphne that he would be willing to take Terry's punishment.
She felt her stomach churn at the thought of Michael being strung up in the dungeons, leather whip cutting into the skin of his back, making him bleed. "Michael, just remember — you don't have to do anything in front of them." She laid her hand on his face, her fingers rubbing small circles on his temple. "You're going to get hurt."
Instead of replying to her outright, Michael kissed her nose. "You're going to be all right? For the rest of your patrols?"
"I'm heading down to the hospital wing now to meet Blaise Zabini. He'll be with me under his Invisibility Cloak."
He looked at her, his gaze far more intense than usual. "I wish I could be there and protect you."
"Michael, I can take care of myself." Daphne felt her tummy swoop as he looked at her, sensing that his feelings and concern far deeper and stronger more than he was verbalizing. She couldn't help but remember his mum's words—
("Ravenclaw men.")
("They all seem to have been touched with the heart of a poet.")
"Not saying you can't protect yourself. Just saying that I wish I could." Flashing her one last smile, he opened the door and headed towards the staircase leading up to the Ravenclaw common room. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, more worried about him and his mates than she had ever been before.
