Secrets of Convenience

7th year: Daphne

When Voledmort called for his followers to retreat for an hour, it was to lick his own wounds and posture meaninglessly, instead of admitting defeat.

The tentative truce came at a cost – Alecto was a mess of bloodstains and bone shards spread out in the Entrance hall, with dead Death Eaters surrounding her. She had died defending Hogwarts.

Of the Aurors in the Order, two who hadn't drunk Felix Felicis had been killed, but there were no other deaths. Nevertheless, Madam Pomfrey and Draco had more than enough injuries to treat, so they set up in the great hall for better coordination. That turned out to be a good choice, as Hermione came in with a floating, soaked in his own blood, Professor Snape.

"I gave him the antivenom before he fell unconscious," Hermione rushed to tell Madam Pomfrey. "I think it might be the blood loss, but I have no idea."

"Well done, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey said as she took over Snape, directing him to a makeshift bed by the wall and the other heavily injured.

Daphne sat next to Theo on the steps, with the professors' table at their backs, where just hours earlier they'd executed the evacuation plan.

She was exhausted, and dusty, and covered in blood that wasn't hers. Theo wasn't much better.

"The snake is still alive," Theo murmured what Daphne didn't say out loud. "He likely keeps her close to him. He must know he's... more vulnerable right now."

"Not vulnerable enough," Daphne said, watching how Hermione – hair a mess, ends singed, clothes stained with something dark – turned to Neville and the Gryffindors, accepting of the water and snacks some of the House Elves had brought upstairs. She was magnificent, and she was alive, and she was here. Tangible, real, all limbs still attached. No obvious curse damage.

Daphne didn't know what she'd expected, but she thought that she probably had expected something for Hermione's return. Epic facial scars from a fight with a Sphinx? Shaking and pain from the Cruciatus curse? Mistrust in her eyes when she met Daphne's gaze? Hermione was just... Hermione. It was almost as if she'd never left, as if Daphne had gone with her on her exile-turned-hunt for pieces of Voldemort's soul.

"We'll survive this," Theo said.

She wasn't sure whether he meant the battle, or that Ron Weasly had just taken Hermione's hand on the other side of the hall.

"You're confident in your Fiendfyre, right?"

"Yes," Daphne answered. In that, at least, she was certain.

"Are you seeing any Zabini around?" Theo asked lightly, but Daphne knew him enough to know that the question ate his way through his insides and his heart. Because it was doing the same to her.

"Let's find him."

They got up and quietly left through a side door.

A point me spell would show her which way to go. Other spells of darker or lighter nature would do the same. Daphne lifted her wand, concentrated on Hermione, smiling, a spark in her eyes. "Expecto patronum. Show us the way to Blaise, please."

The little fat (overly round) otter swam a loop in the air, and then slowly floated down a corridor.

Daphne and Theo started running, and the otter picked up the pace, floating before them, never slowing them down and never losing them. Through courtyards and past the greenhouses, the Patronus took them outside on the opposite side of the Forbidden Forest. That was a small reassurance, and it meant that they saw them before they felt them.