Ernie MacMillan's words were still ringing in his ears as McGonagall shouted for the Ravenclaws who were leaving to head out in a timely manner. And what if we want to stay and fight? Michael hadn't had any control of himself when he had yelled back in agreement, in a loud acknowledgment that he would stay beside Ernie and whoever else was willing. He'd spotted Harry Potter in the crowd, but he lost him in the sea of Slytherins that had been hurried out, and then it was the Ravenclaws' turn.

Michael watched in numb silence as many of his housemates began to stand up and leave, his eyes jumping from each face, their names and times they'd spent together leaping to the forefront of his mind. In the loud garbled voices of the Great Hall, Michael couldn't hear a thing. This was it. This could be it. It could be the last time he saw any of these people, and it struck his chest sharply. Benjamin had been ushered out with the rest of the Slytherins, Michael assumed. He had told his little brother that whenever he got the chance to escape this castle to take it and run. Michael had promised Ben that he'd meet him at home when they did get the opportunity to leave, and the sudden thought of breaking that promise to his little brother caused a great ache in his chest.

He looked down the Ravenclaw table which was empty save for the few faces that he'd known the longest. All of his year mates had remained seated, all looking worse for wear after the torture-filled year they'd endured. Michael could see their faces mulling over the consequences of not standing up and leaving; a Ravenclaw's mind never stopped moving, and it was in this moment that he was eternally grateful for it. If Michael was able to control his thoughts and actually focus on the task he was about to undertake, he would probably not be able to point his wand straight let alone take down a barrage of death eaters. No, he needed to let his mind leap and jump around and work on the turn of a dime if he wanted to survive this.

The Hufflepuffs started to pass, and Michael decided that when the underage Gryffindors filed out, he would stand. That would be his starting point; he and the rest of the Ravenclaws would form some sort of strategy at that point, or at least head over to Ernie MacMillan, who seemed to have his own ideas of how to run things. Neville, Neville would be a good one to follow, too. Yes, find Neville, or find Ernie, if the Ravenclaws didn't come up with something, that would be---

"No--" Michael's thoughts jerked to a halt at the sight of blue robes pushing through the Hufflepuff crowd. He jolted to his feet and moved forward, barely feeling the floor beneath his feet, because he must be hallucinating, she wasn't, "No---you need to go back!"

Rosalie Kirke looked delusional as she reached Michael, hurling her fists at his chest with great force. Michael blanched, looking over his shoulder for some help, but his roommates had begun to filter out into the crowd. Michael felt his heart sink.

"You're coming with me! I'm not leaving without you!" Rosalie let out tearfully, grabbing hold of the front of Michael's robes and tugging him toward her. He'd never seen her so frantic, he'd never seen her lose her calm demeanor in the way she was right now. This year they'd found refuge within each other. There were days when they'd sit on a couch in the Ravenclaw common room just lying together, reading or whispering for hours---there were nights when Michael would have anxiety attacks and Rosalie would have to sneak up to his dorm and soothe him back to sleep. He'd assure her that all of her family would be okay, that her cousins were going to be fine, and she'd let him know that he was doing the right thing by his brother and his parents, he was being brave. He needed her, and he hadn't let himself think about that fact because now, as his grip upon her tightened, Michael was sure he would not be able to let her go.

"I swear, I swear Michael Corner you---I can't let you---stay!" she choked out. Michael's face contorted in pain at the stress he was causing Rosalie. His heart was pounding against his chest, screaming YES, I'LL GO WITH YOU! because that would make her pain go away, but his mind was reeling with the idea of running away from the fight that was about to befall Hogwarts. The literal fate of their world rested on the shoulders of the wizards and witches that stayed back and fought. Michael couldn't imagine the regret and guilt he would feel if he didn't put forth an effort, no matter how good it would feel to be with Rosalie and be sure of her safety.

He'd wrapped his arms around her in an almost vice grip without noticing himself. Michael took in a deep breath as the last of the Hufflepuffs made their way out of the Great Hall. Michael saw Rosalie's older brother coming toward them from down the Ravenclaw table; Rocco was shaking his head furiously and Michael nodded to try and ease his friend's mind. Rocco was old enough to stay, but if Rosalie saw that her brother was staying behind to fight too, she'd never go--

"ROSIE!" The blonde in his arms was yanked away as her twin sister pulled her out of Michael's grasp. Ruby Kirke glared at Michael and he lifted his shoulders, unsure of what to say. He couldn't fight this, this is what he wanted, and he grimaced as Rosalie began to pull and tug against her sister's grip. Ruby had always been the one in charge when it came to the Kirke twins, and with a few hushed words into her ear from her sister, Rosalie stopped fighting.

The Gryffindors continued to walk past, their departing group much smaller than the rest. Michael felt like the moving crowd around him were actually miles away as he stared at Rosalie one more time. It could be the last time he saw her face, and in the moment he tried to capture everything he adored about her. The bright blue of her eyes brought a smile to his face, and as if she'd read his mind she smiled.

Michael turned away then and stalked down the Ravenclaw table to rally up with the rest of the troops. They were going to make it home, they had to.

His panting echoed through the corridors, his shoes hitting the ground at a rapid pace matching his breaths. Michael grabbed onto a torch post and swung himself around a corner, hoping to not lose any speed as he raced away from the 'professors' that had spotted him out after hours. The male Carrow had already tortured one Ravenclaw boy today, he was not going to have his turn on another. Michael tried to control his breath as he lit his wand, searching for a place to hide. He'd been sneaking out every other night to check on his little brother in the Slytherin dungeons with no problem except for Benjamin's reluctance to let him leave, but tonight he had given in to his brother's whims for too long and had crossed paths with the two worst professors the school had ever seen.

Michael stopped to think. There had been nights when he'd stayed out of the dorm all night because he'd never earned a clear shot back to Ravenclaw tower, but he'd never been spotted out of bed. He couldn't believe how quickly he had responded to the fury of spells that the Carrows had shot toward him, spells that had been deemed acceptable forms of punishment by Headmaster Snape, and Michael was glad for those few lessons Ginny Weasley had forced upon him during his time with Dumbledore's Army.

The best place to hide was behind the larger tapestries. There was plenty of room between them and the wall, and they took so much effort to move in the first place because they were so heavy that they didn't swish or sway as if someone had recently been messing with them. Was there one nearby? Yes! The large one of Rowena Ravenclaw in the middle of her glen, that was too perfect, really---Michael winced at the sound of shouts bouncing off the walls behind him and he began to run again, hoping to hide out behind the tapestry until the Carrows grew tired of their chase. He reached the tapestry and pulled it away from the nook in the wall behind it, slipping in silently and turning the light at the tip of his wand off with a swish.

In the darkness, everything shot clearly to the front of his mind. Michael let out a choked breath and as soon as he did his hands began to shake. He pressed his palms to his eyes in order to calm himself, to relax himself, but it did no good. He began to pace back and forth behind the tapestry, trying to listen out for the Carrows who seemed to have taken an alternate route.

Terry Boot had been tortured today, in front of the entire Great Hall for shouting out his support of Harry Potter and his escape from Gringotts; today was the worst day to be caught outside the dorms, today was the worst day to be a Ravenclaw out in the middle of the night, obviously breaking the rules.

How could he have been so dumb? How could he have let Benjamin make him stay those extra five minutes when he knew how close he'd come before? Michael felt like he hadn't slept in weeks, and now the stress of what was going to happen when he was inevitably caught was plaguing down on him. They'd torture him, for sure. They'd find out he had been visiting his brother and they'd attack Ben, too. Michael would be punished severely for being a halfblood, and Ben would get it worse for being a pureblood who allowed such filth into the great and noble Slytherin house. They were screwed, they were both screwed and it was his fault for even suggesting he'd try to---

"Michael?"

The voice on the other side of the tapestry nearly caused him to fall into the tapestry and out into the corridor. Michael pressed his back against the side of the alcove, and shut his eyes for nearly a minute before he realized he wasn't being attacked. He felt the glow of a wand and slowly opened his eyes. He relaxed immediately at the sight of Rosalie Kirke. The tip of her wand was nearly touching her nose and Michael quickly realized it was so that the light couldn't be seen under the few inches between the tapestry and the floor.

"What are you doing out?" he whispered, cupping his hands around the light of her wand to help hide its glow. Rosalie's worried expression twisted into one of great concern.

"I wanted to see my sister," she said, "I've seen you sneak out so---I followed you out--"

"Rose," he hissed, clamping his hand around the tip of her wand to shut out the light completely. His eyes had somewhat adjusted to the dark, and Michael could see that she seemed to feel quite guilty, "Do you know how stupid that is? You could've been caught!"

"You do it! All the time, nearly every night!" she shot back. "I want to see my sister as much as you want to see Ben!" Michael was surprised by the courage she showed; Rosalie was the quieter one of the Kirke twins, and she usually let her sister do all the talking when it came to just about everything. Michael had known the Kirke girls for as long as they'd been alive, and he knew he couldn't argue against this sudden show of bravery on Rosalie's part.

"Don't do it again," he said softly, removing his hand from around her wand. The light filled up the tight space again and Michael watched it bounce off her face. He smiled in a sad manner, knowing that nothing could really lighten the mood of the situation they were both stuck in, "Your father will kill me if you get hurt."

She smiled, and for the first time in his late night excursion Michael felt like he was going to get back to the dorm in one piece, if only to make sure Rose got back to bed.

They remained quiet for a few moments, knowing that a fight in a corridor where they were both trying to hide from maniac professors was not the smartest of ideas. At least they'd maintained enough of their Ravenclaw wit to figure remaining silent was the best way to go.

"You're bleeding," Rosalie said suddenly, breaking the peace. Michael knitted his eyebrows and watched her hand reach up and touch his forehead. He could see her mind beginning to race, and he wondered how much her mediwizard brother had taught her over the last break, "A lot, Michael, oh--you need to go to the infirmary!"

"I can't," he said with a shake of his head, and was surprised at the pain that was now suddenly throbbing from the gash. How could he have not felt it before? Was adrenaline really powerful enough to cause you to overlook such things? "The Carrows would---"

It was as if their names had been jinxed because the second the word slipped past his lips the loud, grunting voices of the death eater professors blasted down the corridor. Rosalie's wand was put out in an instant and Michael grabbed onto her, pulling her as tightly to him as possible as he pushed into the corner of the alcove. If they found them, it would be all his fault; Rose only thought she could make it around the castle without getting caught because he had been doing it for weeks now. Michael felt the weight of the guilt nearly crush him and he tightened his embrace around Rose, hoping she would understand his silent apology to what was going to happen when the Carrows pulled back that curtain...

Michael's face pressed into the side of her head as he listened for their footsteps, their muttering. He felt Rosalie's quick breathing against his chest and his hand immediately made a soothing movement through her hair. The Carrows had to be standing right on the other side of the tapestry and Michael knew that it would be any second before they pulled it back and found them there. What could he do? He could attack them first; it would give Rosalie time to escape. He toyed around with the idea in his head for a moment, but to his great surprise, the female Carrow let out a great whine of a yawn and demanded her brother take her back to her room, that it was too late to be chasing stupid children around. Michael's eyes were wide in shock at their luck, and it was nearly five minutes before he dared to move and let Rosalie out of his grasp.

She didn't move very far, however. With all of his concern about moving around the tapestry, he couldn't help his surprise when Rosalie pushed up on her toes and kissed him soundly, her arms wrapping around his neck. Michael nearly tumbled the two of them onto the floor, but he had enough sense to hold onto her again and kiss her back. It would be a lie to say he hadn't looked at Rosalie as a very pretty girl, but he'd never---he supposed in high stress situations, things tended to move faster than real life seemed to like to allow.

He would be fine with kissing her in real life, though.

They parted, and he kissed her forehead before taking her hand and gripping it tightly. They needed to get back to the dorm before someone else decided to make rounds.

"I'm going to fix your cut," Rosalie stated smartly as he tugged her along. Michael looked over his shoulder at her and grinned in the moonlight streaming into the corridor.

"But--why?"

Jacob Derrick blinked slowly at his mentor, bewildered at their latest assignment. All right, he was an intern, he was the new guy, but he wasn't dumb. This didn't make any sense! Why on earth would a team of interns who wanted to one day broadcast quidditch matches and duels over the WWN be at a muggle football field?

"Derrick, you're getting on my nerves," his mentor snapped, thrusting a little book with blank, lined, white...parchment? Then he handed him a...white, thin tube thing that had a little point at the end, and Jacob was now thoroughly confused and he raised his hand, "Shut it, Derrick!"

"I didn't say--"

"You were going to!"

Jacob pressed his lips together in frustration and decided to focus on everything but his idiot mentor. He watched the on goings of the field, and was surprised to see that not only were they on a muggle football field, it was a girl's football team running back and forth. Oh, peachy.

"If you want to be a good sports caster, you need to learn how to make even the strangest of sports interesting." Jacob turned his attention back to his mentor, realizing why they were here. Brilliant. "You should consider yourself lucky--at least there's action in football---some of the other interns are covering a gobstones match.

"In your hands is what muggles call paper and a pen. The pen is like our quill, except you don't have to dip it in ink; the ink's inside of it." Jacob was actually impressed by this, and pressed the 'pen' into the 'paper' and watched with amusement as a blue blot formed. Interesting. "You've got to look the part, and you've got the learn the rules--"

Thrust into Jacob's hands was a book titled 'Footy for Dummies,' and now he was offended once again.

"Take a seat in the bleachers and figure out the basis; the match starts in an hour."

Jacob trudged across the end of the field, lagging behind his fellow interns as he had opened his book to start learning about this nonsense. He was never going to cover a football match, he was never going to attend one after this 'lesson,' so there was honestly no point in any of this. It was just his mentor needing to be superior to everyone else and enjoying the torture he put them all through. When he was a mentor to the new, fledgling interns, Jacob would be sure to treat them with the utmost---SMACK

The sound rang through his head, and it took Jacob a few second to realize that his face had caused it. And it hadn't only been his face, nooo, no. From his position flat on his back on the grass, he could see the football that had bounced off of his face lying a few meters away. Holy. Shit. That. Hurt.

"Watch where you're walking!" a voice exclaimed, and Jacob glared up toward the sky, as he was not ready to get up from the ground while the world was still spinning around him. He blinked furiously to try and gain some control over his vision, and in the blurry mess appeared the face of a girl he did not know, but would certainly not be against meeting.

"Hello there," Jacob slurred, finding her very pretty, save for the scowl on her face. Her dark hair was a mess around her head, and he wondered what could have had such a lovely girl so flustered.

"You're an idiot," she snapped, putting her hand out to him. Jacob was finding that football was the most offensive sport he'd ever dealt with, as he was constantly being insulted while on its field. "What the hell are you doing, walking in front of the goal like that?"

"I..." Jacob started, but he had no answer. Even someone who'd never seen a match should know that you don't walk in front of the goal, that was like flying across the three rings of a quidditch pitch and expecting not to get smacked by a quaffle, "I...was reading," he finished lamely, taking her hand.

She was surprisingly strong, or Jacob was feeling incredibly weak, because the girl pulled him up from the ground with great ease. She was a head shorter than him, which Jacob found endearing, but once again the nasty look on her face was a bit off putting.

"I'm Jacob," he blurted, feeling like his brain had completely dislodged itself inside of his head and was now working like that of a first year Hufflepuff. But she was so pretty. "I'm gonna watch your match."

The girl's eyebrows rose, and without another word she waved goodbye and trotted back onto the field, kicking up the footy in some impressive footwork. Finnegan, the back of her jersey read. Jacob hurriedly picked up his book and rushed to the bleachers, ignoring the laughter of his fellow interns (lies; he scowled and cursed at them for a bit). He only had an hour to learn this sport, and if he wanted to redeem himself from looking like a complete moron to Finnegan (Such an Irish name, he liked it), he'd have to memorize every last rule.

Because really; she was a muggle footballer and he was a wizard who talked about flying broomsticks. What else could they have in common?

Edmund hummed softly, his lips pressed tightly against those of his girlfriend. His hands held her face in place as she slowly kissed him back, and he felt like he was in heaven. This had to be what everyone lived for, to find this perfect connection with a person who found you as equally entrancing.

"This is the absolute worst place for us to be doing this," Natalia breathed into his mouth. Edmund shook his head; he couldn't be anywhere but here, in this very instant. "Your mother could be right outside the curtains, looking at robes for---"

"Shhhh--" Edmund hushed her with another kiss, and Natalia couldn't help but submit. It had been a terribly long summer, but with Hogwarts around the corner they were finally able to arrange a meeting in Diagon Alley as their siblings and parents were distracted with text books and supplies. Edmund was for once grateful for his mother's impeccable attention to detail; she would be examining every set of robes with his sister for an hour before she realized he was no where to be seen.

They broke apart, and Natalia ducked her head with a sigh. Edmund kissed her forehead, sensing her concern, and his hold around her tightened.

"I just don't want you to get in trouble," she whispered. He could hear the stress in her voice and it pained him, "I know the ramifications of something like this, and...I don't want you to have to go through it..."