Indigo looked quite a mess. His face and hair was wet from an Aguamenti that he had cast on himself. Gripped in one hand was a conch shell, and in the other a trident. Both objects were still emitting a high pitched screech. Indigo, however, found it beautiful. It was a calling. He had rushed to the Atrium from the Department of Mysteries with one goal in mind, and he was so close to that goal. He marched right past anyone currently gathered with a look of determination in his eyes as he climbed directly into the fountain.