Of all the dangerous, immature things. There were dead birds on the floor, and live bats on the ceiling. Damian knew which one he was. But this was not the time to bicker with the auror. "Keep the sense of humor. Helps distract from the horror." The unspeakable spoke, barely above a whisper. The loud caw in his ear turned his echolocation into a blinding screech.
The ringing in his ears began to subside just in time for him to hear the call. A hypersonic cry of unwilling participants in this wizarding war. Before the others realized what was happening, Damian tried to shove Ronan behind him with one hand, while the other struck his wand against the ground. With the strike, his wand produced a barely audible screech, but he hoped it would be enough to distract the flock of bats as he then held his wand aloft. If it didn't work, he would be defenseless.
Such heroic nonsense.
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In over his head |