Quinn winced as the spell hit him, but he didn't feel much. Then, there was a slight tickle at the back of his throat. He coughed, and a couple tiny slugs flew out onto the ground. Quinn grimaced.

Gross.

The thought of slugs being in his throat made him want to throw up, but... that seemed a little weak. They needed to make this believable.

"C-come on, Kins-"

Quinn belched, and a few more small slugs spattered out onto the ground.

"Come on, Kinsay, you can do better than that."

Yeah, Emmerson Cambridge could definitely go die in a hole, buried alive in an oversized sardine can. SHE HAD AVOIDED THE COUNTERSPELL ON PURPOSE! She had an entire year of practice on Eden, but nooooo, she had to go screaming and hollering for help and now Williamson was here. Absolutely none of this was her fault, as far as Eden was concerned.

Except now it wasn't only Williamson here. The Inquisitorial Squad had arrived, hostile and with their wands pointed directly towards her and, much more unfortunately, Quinn. He hadn't done anything at all and here Eden was dragging him into mortal peril.

Mortal peril. The blood drained from Eden's face.

She wasn't one to be scared, but they could actually die. She'd go down in history as Eden Tilly, the girl who got killed on her twelfth birthday for making Emmerson Cambridge sneeze sardines.

And now Williamson had his wand pointed at her, something she was sickeningly grateful for for all of 2 seconds before she began violently vomiting? burping? coughing up? slugs. She couldn't stop the thick, slimy creatures from coming, and involuntary tears welled up in her eyes. A respectable mound of slugs was forming at her feet.

When she finally looked up, slugs still coming, she wished she hadn't. Quinn was asking that Kinsay James girl (who didn't seem so horrible now) to curse him again.

And they still might die.

She didn't look around at Emmerson or the Inquisitorial Squad or Williamson, just went back to expelling slugs. Eyes on the moving, blurry ground. "Great" slug "work," slug "Miss" slug "Cambridge."

NO.

NO.

NO!

Emmerson Cambridge was seeing red. No sooner had the squad arrived to provide the satisfaction she was shooting for, Professor Williamson was ruining everything. Not only that, but he'd gotten KIZZY to play along. SHE was the one who'd been minding her business when she was attacked and everyone was trying to save Eden's neck. The neck she was hoping one of the hoodie brigade would snap.

It was betrayal from all sides, not the sort the little girl would take lightly. Not when everyone was so readily playing along. Her name on Eden's lips sent a bolt of rage through her the likes she could scarcely contain in her small frame...and she could not scream. It was too much.

Emm began shaking her head VEHEMENTLY, her hands waving in obvious objection. This was not a duel. Her wand was still very much in its holster, her hands empty as anything. She wasn't the one who shot slugs at the Ravenclaw. If she wanted to shoot slugs, she would've shot slugs. No. She wanted Eden HURT. She wanted her on the ground writhing in pain until she begged for death.

THEN the Gryffindor would be satisfied.

Emmerson stomped and kicked at nothing in particular, gesturing wildly to her mouth that had been essentially put out of business. If they wouldn't help her, they were against her. She would help herself.

Thoroughly frustrated, Emmerson bent down and scrawled the word "Rosier" into the dirt, then she sprung up, spun on her heels and began a determined march away.

She would get her own bloody justice and Williamson could rot with the mudbloods if that was what he wanted.

The hooded figures stood in silence for a time, taking in the explanation while one scribbled away at the notebook.

They exchanged glances, deciding the situation was quite clear. Cambridge had been known for her dramatics. There wasn't a day that she did not scream. It would make sense that in a duel where she lost the upperhand, she would pitch a fit.

On brand, unfortunately. Unbecoming, most definitely.

One moved closer to get a look at what she had written on the ground, writing it into their own notebook.

"They don't deserve wands in this duel." One breathed. "Resolve the matter. They are better suited as targets."

They played along.

Thank Merlin, they played along. Did the firsties apply too much Ravenclaw sarcasm to their performances? Definitely. Did he feel as despicable as the slugs everyone was retching now? Absolutely. But would they all live to walk away from this situation?

....possibly.

When the hoods finally spoke, Williamson thudded his palm to his forehead, as though he 'forgot' to disarm the first years before allowing the second years to attack them in their 'duel.' Wow, amateur hour much, Dubya? He recognized that he was really skating on thin ice here, and tried not to clench his jaw too tightly.

"You're right, of course." He rectified the matter by nonverbally casting two disarming spells, one each for Tilly and Kingsley. Of course, Cambridge's antics weren't finished yet. He saw Cambridge's message in the dirt (thankfully, it had been missed by the hoods), and cleared his throat, marching through said dirt spot quite briskly, as though he were coming over to inspect one of Kinglsey's slugs on the ground. "Needs more vehemence, James." He spun around and nodded solemnly to the Gryffindor. "Do it again."

As for their little escapee... Williamson scowled in her direction (an actual scowl, nothing fake about it). He'd be needing her back just now, so he made sure to speak up for her benefit and the hoods. "Can you believe she just surrendered to a dirty little mudblood? Leaving a duel like that? Unacceptable. She brings shame to us."

He shook his head and sent another nonverbal after Cambridge, this spell flashing red through the trees toward her marching backside. "She needs to learn... for the greater good and her own."

Kinsay James was OVERWHELMED and even that felt like an understatement. She was ready to shut down. Pass out. Take a really long nap. And though there were just about a million things going wrong, the worst of all was that Emm was upset with her. Emm was upset with Kizzy. Emm. Best Friend. Upset. With Kizzy. Emmerson Cambridge was upset with Kinsay James. Emmerson Cambridge. Was upset. With Kinsay James. Kizzy could pick up on it instantaneously. And the thought made her feel really, really ill.

There was too much NOISE. Everything was LOUD. And CONFUSING. Her feelings were all upside down and downside up and the easiest, and most natural, thing to do was disengage entirely. Except. She couldn’t even do that. Because if she shut down, someone would die. Someone would die and it’d be all her fault. So trying to push away all fuzz in her brain and shut off all the BIG LOUD feelings in her heart, Kizzy once again lifted her wand and pointed it towards Quinn. She didn’t like this one bit. ”Tarantallegra.”

She didn’t wait to see the results of her spell because in her peripheral vision she caught sight of Emmerson stomping off and it made her stomach feel even more uneasy and her head feel even fuzzier. Ha, jokes, right? Because Professor Williamson managed something ten times worse with what he said next.

NO. NO NO NO NO NO.

She shook her head adamantly in protest, not even considering that perhaps this was an extension of the act. ”You can’t! She didn’t do anything wrong. She didn’t, she didn’t.” No no no no no no. How did this keep getting WORSE? They'd hurt her. Didn't Professor Williamson know they'd hurt her!!! "I promise she didn't." She didn't she didn't she didn't.

Remember when she'd thought Kinsay James was one of the bigger student issues at this school? Eden found herself wishing she could go back to those simpler times in between giant mouthfuls of slug.

Because clearly Emmerson Cambridge was a standout case. Just pure evil and stupidity rolled into one potentially-deadly-for-first-year-Ravenclaws package. Eden vowed to make her pay as soon as she could.

Right now, though, she had more pressing problems. Like the fact that when W.W.W's disarming spell hit her, her wand AND her pocket knife flew towards his outstretched hand. Her special-gift-from-her-brother pocket knife. The one she slept with. The one that had E.A.T engraved on the wooden handle. And her ribs ached from the long run and from doubling over and forcing fat, juicy slugs out of her mouth. And Quinn was getting cursed again. And as long as the hoods were here, this was really the BEST case scenario. AND EMMERSON CAMBRIDGE WAS RUNNING AWAY. Eden couldn't run away. She'd just be unalived.

Oooh, was Williamson cursing Emmerson now? Or was Emmerson about to use her for target practice? Only time would tell.

Slug, slug, slug, slug. All the slugs.

Quinn's wand flew out of its holster towards the Professor. Great, now he couldn't defend himself even if he wanted to. Today was going just lovely, wasn't it?

And then Kinsay hit him with another hex and his legs were going wild. They were still sore from the run, so this was really, really just peachy.

At least Emmerson was getting a bit of what was coming to her by way of Professor Williamson. Though he wasn't too happy with Eden or Kinsay at the moment, either.

"Th-this is much—woah—much better, Kinsay..!" he said, trying to keep his balance as his legs did their thing. He had some words whenever those hooded weirdos left. Many, many words.

Hmph.

"Silence. We do not surrender to mudbloods." One breathed, sending a sharp stinging hex at one Kinsay James. If Willaimson was punishing the girl for turning tail then there was no need to get in the way as the Gryffindor was trying to do. The wands were now gone and the situation was more in line with what it was meant to be.

They would have hexed Cambridge themselves for that cowardly behaviour to inferior wizards, but if the Groundskeeper was on it--with an approved spell--they were free to continue their patrol elsewhere.

Satisfied, they turned and went on their way, grumbling only somewhat at the massive waste of time this had been.

Perhaps Rosier would hear about it afterall. They could not have Purebloods performing so poorly. Perhaps the man would agree little Cambridge needed a visit to remind her of the role she, as a pureblood, was meant to play. To surrender the upperhand in a duel, she would learn quickly if they had any say.

They were in for it, they all were. Not Kizzy, she'd never sell her out even if she DID betray her but as the little girl trudged further and further away, the gears in her head were already spinning. She would have someone back in the castle remove the silencing charm under the guise of having been hexed by any ol' body else. THEN she would take herself to the Headmaster's office--wait hours if she had to, but someone was dying today.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Just you wai--

There was a flash of red.....then nothing.

Emmerson was out cold.

Williamson caught the Ravenclaw wands, tucking them in the inner pocket of his coat (for show), including the little pocket knife that nearly took a finger off when it zoomed toward him. What the---? Tilly, was this hers? She did know that was contraband, even if there was a cult holding the school hostage, right?

He subtly shook his head at them, wincing at Kinsay James' INCESSANT yelling on her best friend's behalf, and tried not to look like he was holding his breath and waiting for the stupid squad to leave. Mer-lin, they took their sweet time waddling out of there, didn't they?

With Cambridge down, that meant he only had the three stooges to deal with. "Grab your friend and drag 'er over here," he grunted to James, not showing a bit of relief now that the hoods were gone. Because could he BE careful enough? Not only that, but he wasn't handing out wands OR counterspells until this was dealt with to his satisfaction. First he cast a muffling charm or two or seven at the trees around them, and then he crossed his arms over his chest and glared down the burping slug club.

"Kingsley, explain to me between burps what the hell I just I had to save you from." That's right, he was calling on the more honest of the two firsties. James would be called to testify next, once she finished exhausting herself with her stupid friend. Is that what they called friendship? Really? Getting yourself hexed into oblivion over some matter of PRIDE and PREJUDICE???

Quinn's legs were killing him. And belching up small slugs every couple minutes was not helping. On top of that, he was annoyed at all three of the girls, so he was in a pretty bad mood.

"Well, sir—" belch "—me and Eden went on a run, and we were on our way back to the castle when we saw Emmerson and Kinsay. And then—" slugs "—Eden cast a hex on Emmerson that made her shoot sardines out of her nose because she's mad at her for getting into a fight with Ashley—" burp "—Fox and calling her a mudblood. And then Emmerson started screaming and making a scene, and when Kinsay tried to help her she danced around the Finites so—" nasty "—I'm pretty sure she was doing it on purpose to get Eden in trouble with the Alliance." The end of his account was punctuated by an upchuck of more slugs.

"Now, can someone please make me stop dancing and burping up slugs?" Another belch, another volley of little squirmies.

Kinsay SHRIEKED when Emm fell to the ground, before SHRIEKING even LOUDER when she, herself, was hit by a stinging hex à la Hoods™. Right in the face. It knocked her right onto her back and caused a pain so excruciating that she began crying right on the spot. Making it worse, she could immediately feel the welts as her skin started swelling, leaving her puffy and making it difficult to see. OMG. SHE WAS SO UGLY. What if Matty saw her looking like this?!?! (This was the Emmerson influence once again kicking in).

The good news? The physical pain kept her focused and alert, edging her away from the previous anxious spiral she was heading towards. She twitched and whimpered for a few moments longer, before trying to channel her inner Phoebe James. Just like Phoebe had done in Care of Magical Creatures, Kizzy picked herself up off the ground (looking a little worse for wear) and made her way for Emm. It took some more time than it should have (as her eyes were merely slits at the moment), so in walking away she had completely missed Quinn's retelling of the events (conveniently missing an important detail in regard to what exactly Emmerson had said to Ashley, ignorance really is bliss).

Anyway. You know what's a lot more difficult than it sounded??? Dragging your best friend('s deadweight) across the grounds immediately after you were hexed in the face. Kinsay James was STRUGGLING. Couldn't Professor Williamson use magic??? She'd do it herself if she weren't so lousy with spells. So instead the Gryffindor tried once more to LIFT her friend up with sheer strength. After much difficulty, Kizzy finally managed to get Emm somewhat upright. Sort of.

......... And then once again began her trek back over to the group, hugging Emmerson Cambridge tightly to her chest, and dragging her across the grounds. She had already felt like she ran a marathon. But THIS? This was going to be the cause of her ultimate collapse.

Eden was in a foul mood. Slugs were still exiting her mouth at an alarming rate, and she was never, ever going to hear the end of this from Quinn. If he ever spoke to her again. And she probably wasn't getting her pocketknife back. And she still had like 16 hours left to possibly die on her birthday. And Williamson might decide slug-belching wasn't enough of a punishment and give her 500 years of UNJUST detention.

Still, she couldn't help but feel relieved as she watched the hoods finally walk away.

Under less horrible circumstances, she would have been irritated with Quinn for his rendition of the morning's events. He didn't even mention that Emmerson had been clearly coming to antagonize them, that Eden had simply thrown the first proverbial punch in an inevitable fight. However, right now? Eden couldn't be mad at anybody but Emmerson Cambridge. As far as she was concerned, this was all her fault.

...& that thing Quinn said about turning the slugs off? Could she get a little of that, too?

For a few agonizingly long moments, Williamson staunchly ignored the other children besides Kingsley, his brown eyes locked on the boy as he absorbed the facts of the situation. He wasn't even surprised this had something to do with Fox. Tilly deserved at least ten more minutes of vomiting for her role in this mess, and for the fact that he was sure it was her pocket knife which had nearly cut his hand. He'd given James a task that was a deliberate challenge because he needed her out of the way and because Gryffindors often needed some kind of exhausting physical task (or several) before they were done Gryffindoring. He also knew this situation would never get properly diffused if James and Cambridge were around to hear his speech for the Ravenclaws.

Back to Kingsley. He dragged out his grumpy-teacher LOOK for another beat, and then snorted.

"Right." He waved his wand at Kingsley only, silently casting a large finite that should take care of all his dancing and belching. "The thing is, I'm sorry for saying that word too, but you're just going to have to get over it and over yourselves." His gaze drifted between the Ravenclaws as he spoke and tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He really was trying. "You're going to be hearing it a lot more, I expect, and the sooner you learn not to give words power over yourself, the better off you'll be."

Did they hear? Did they get it yet? Things were probably going to get a whole lot worse before they got any better, and Williamson knew this from all his experience at Hogwarts.

"The adults in this school can't come running every time you decide to start a drama," he drawled, one last warning for them all, as he reached into the pocket of his jacket. "Well, not the adults on your side, anyway." He'd not give another thought to the useless followers of Rosier but he SINCERELY HOPED the children of this school, especially the Muggleborns, would. A thought of caution, at least.

Now, as for Tilly. He held both her and Kingsley's wand in his hand alongside his own. Had to give her a punishment, didn't he? And not just because the Squad said so; he WANTED to get through to her now that he'd heard the whole story. She'd started this mess by casting on a screamer, making him come running, resulting in his pocket croissants likely being all cold and squished by now, and AND now there were slugs all over his nice pathway. Firsties. Smh.

"Tilly, you're going to clean this mess up. If I ever hear about you casting an unsanctioned spell on a classmate, especially on MY grounds, I swear you will wish you had been killed today instead of being saved by me." That was not a threat, it was a promise, and the nearly 6'4" man made sure she got it by leaning down to put his grizzled face next to her little one. His voice was a low and intense growl. "Are we clear? No. Magic. Outside. Of. Class."

No magic from kids, anyway. He straightened back up before he could get slugs on his face from an inevitable burp and tossed Kingsley his wand, then threw Tilly's on the ground beside her. Also, yes, he did finally cast a finite on her slug-belching. "I don't care how it gets done, I just don't want any evidence of this mess when I come back through here later."

Now he had to go deal with the older and therefore worse pair. He swept off, not patient enough to wait for James to get back to them, and waved his wand at the unconscious Cambridge so she was levitating gently and it wasn't on Kinsay to drag her. "To my hut. Now." That's right, time for the other half of this.... detention or whatever.

He was exhausted by these children (and all the magic he'd had to use on them) and it was only MORNING.

Quinn breathed a sigh of relief as he finally stopped dancing and burping up slugs, bending down to rub his sore legs. He still felt queasy from the slug hex, but he could deal with it. Even though his mouth and throat still felt all slimey.

Quinn nodded throughout the Professor's speech—he understood that he shouldn't act upon his feelings, but that didn't stop him from getting upset. He would still be hurt whenever he was called that slur, but he knew better than to retaliate. Better than some people.

Quinn clumsily caught his wand as it was thrown back to him. "Yes, sir. Thank you, Professor." Not just for giving his wand back or getting rid of the hexes, but for making sure neither he nor Eden got killed.

As the Professor and Kinsay made their way to the hut with a floating Emmerson in tow, Quinn whipped back around to Eden. His face wasn't frightening, but there was undeniable rage underneath. "Well, are you happy? Did you get what you wanted?"

Kinsay was out of earshot for the entirety of Quinn's account of the morning. She was also out of earshot for all of what Professor Williamson said. Because, um, she was struggling mighty hard with this dragging-her-best-friend-across-the-grounds business. She stopped a couple of times to take breaks for breathing and only made it a quarter of the way back to the group when Professor Williamson started heading her way instead.

Kizzy felt a sense of ultimate relief when Mr. Williamson helped with his magic and gave him an embarrassed sort of look, though perhaps it wasn't visible due to the swollen face situation she had going on. "Thank you," she managed quietly. Not just for levitating Emmerson. And then followed tail between her legs just behind him as they made way for his hut.

Eden would be lying if she said Williamson wasn't a lot more intimidating when he and his buttery-scented breath were only inches from her still-slug-occupied face. The man was tall. And he'd kinda just saved her life. She did her best not to show her fear slight intimidation, though (despite the fact that she knew that would be the self-preserving thing to do). She kept steady eye contact with the teacher until he released her from her slug-induced woe. "Yes, professor, we are clear. I'm sorry. The slugs will be gone by the time you get back."

And...she did feel pretty dang crummy now. And guilty. And slimy. Mission successful, W.W.W.

She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding when her wand appeared on the ground beside her. Eden quickly picked it up and placed it safely in her hip holster where it belonged. Her eyes searched the ground for her knife, but, as she'd feared, it was nowhere to be found. And she didn't have the nerve to ask for it back before Williamson left to deal with the Gryffindors.

You know who did have some nerve? Quinn. Mr. Throw-Her-Under-The-Bus-On-Her-Birthday. His face was BIG mad - a far cry from the crying boy she'd seen on the first day of classes. It would've been a welcome change if it wasn't directed at her.

How was she supposed to answer that? Yeah, it had, in hindsight, been dumb to hex a pureblood in the school's current political climate. Especially one as sadistic as Emmerson. Yeah, it sucked that Quinn had been roped into all this as an innocent bystander - but also, why hadn't he wanted to curse Emmerson Cambridge? She deserved it.

But, yes, it had been the wrong move. Now she had to deal with the aftermath.

"I should've just punched her."

That probably wasn't the right thing to say, was it?

"I'm...sorry you had to be there for all that."

Quinn was really fuming now. That was not the answer he wanted to hear. Did she still not get it?

"No, Eden, you shouldn't have done anything! You should have left it alone! You shouldn't be sorry that I was here, you should be sorry that you did it in the first place! If it hadn't been for the Professor, we would've gotten Crucio'd, or worse! Because you couldn't just leave it alone! How would you feel? How would you feel if I got killed for something you did, huh?" he asked, emphasizing the you with a finger jabbed at her shoulder. Quinn was red now, shaking both out of nerves from the interaction with the Hoods and anger at Eden.

"I'd feel pretty horrible. I'm sorry."

Correction: she did feel horrible, right now, right this second. About a lot of things.

But. Butbutbut.

"But it's Emmerson's fault that they came at all - don't you see that? Don't you care at all?"

They hadn't been killed or crucio'd yet. Eden didn't feel like explaining to Quinn that one or the other was almost inevitable the way things were going, because she didn't want to upset one of the only friends she had any more than she'd already managed to do. Or die. She was tired and maybe out a friend and she needed to figure out what she was going to do about all these slugs. Her brain hurt.

Quinn gave her a look of surprise, then turned away from her—then turned back—and then away again. He didn't know what to say to that. Was that really how she was thinking about the situation?

He turned back to her with an exasperated "What?"

"Eden! She wouldn't have had anything to scream about if you didn't hex her!" Quinn threw his hands up. This conversation was going nowhere.

"Okay, you know what, Eden? Clean up your slugs. I'm getting breakfast," he said as he started making his way back to the castle. Quinn was over it. They could sort this out later, when Eden wasn't thinking completely backwards. "Happy birthday," he spat out over his shoulder.

"They're YOUR slugs too, Kingsley!" Eden shouted after him, irritated and hurt and just wanting a cinnamon bun and her bed. Her adrenaline was very abruptly gone and she was sore and slimy.

She turned her attention to Slug Mountain. Some of them were squirming away now in all different directions. With a sigh, Eden emptied the contents of her wow-magic-bigger-on-the-inside-Dr.Who-did-it-first fanny pack into various pockets. She placed the opened fanny pack on the ground and sat down on the damp ground beside it.

"Wingardium Leviosa," she spat, wand pointed at a slug. One of the littler ones that belonged to Quinn. With an overly-aggressive whoosh of her wand, the slug zoomed through the air to be deposited ungracefully in the open fanny pack. She knew exactly the place in the dungeons for all these punishment!slugs.

This was going to take a while.

It's another beautiful sunset out here in the Scottish Highlands. The setting sun turns the sky a magnificent orange with streaks of red and yellow here and there. Yes, the day is all but done and it's time to settle into whatever corner of the castle you manage to find solace in.

Or perhaps not.

Approaching the gates of this beloved prison away from home, an army marches with determination. At first, one might think Lucien Rosier has garnered more followers. With numbers like these, his would surely double overnight!!

What happens next says otherwise.

A blast goes off. One, then another. It takes much effort but the gates are breeched--blown away in a show of brilliant lights.

The cavalry has arrived and some of them want their children back.

Oakey pulled his wand down. After the final barrage of spells to knock down the gate finished with everyone else. They violently swung open he looked ahead into the Grounds of Hogwarts.

There were three reasons Oakey Gunter was here to take back the Castle. Firstly it was for the call to action. Oakey would stand beside the Order of the Phoenix. He was a Muggleborn adopted into a Pureblood family but he took great pride in his heritage. Even connecting with his Muggle Parents who had left him when he was little. The words Minister Hollingberry quoted from Kingsley Shacklebolt continued to ring through his mind. Every human life was worth the same, and worth saving.

Secondly, Oakey loved Hogwarts. Sure there were tough times for him there as well but he forged many friendships with fellow students and even teachers alike. He considered it very much his 2nd home each year he came back.

Then lastly. His wife would kill him if he did not go and get their son, Cairo. This was obviously the first and foremost important reason that he was here. 3 of his other children were all at home. Cairo being here the level of concern was present on this father’s face. Cairo was much like his older sister. Spontaneous and no regards for their actions. Who knows what he’s done in there to antagonize the Neo-Alliance, and if they had done ANYTHING to him. Oakey hadn’t tapped into his anger in a long time. That would be a sight to see.

He kept his wand at the ready. Standing and waiting for some kind of reaction to their gate breach. With his other hand he reached into the top of his shirt and pulled out a lucky rabbit’s leg. The same charm he had in school that he gifted to his daughter Xaria when she started Hogwarts. On his back through a disillusioned shimmer. If you looked hard enough you could see the shape of a rather large looking beetle resting on his back. Oakey had borrowed Tank from his other son. Tank was a very good lucky charm. Given to him by his best friend Mordred Mordaunt. That he then passed on to Mark at the start of his Hogwarts years. Lastly, resting beside his Rabbit’s foot was an empty vial on a chain. It’s contents looked freshly drunken. Bits of silvery liquid droplets resting at the bottom. He would not take any chances with his bad luck today. Oakey Gunter came ready to fight, to bring his son home, and to take back Hogwarts.

___

So it has come to this has it? They pushed the wrong people with their greater good nonsense and whatever happened at the Ministry today gave them the chance to bite back. It was do or die time, and Torrance Primeux-Spades was here to do. Whether or not he was sure any of his other family would be here he knew that this was a chance to finally prove his worth. Nobody puts a Primeaux in the corner. There were 5 of his cousins trapped in there and he was going to help get them back.

Most importantly, no one was gonna tell him to stand back anymore. When all those prisoners escaped. The ones that are very likely the ones who have taken Hogwarts. He wanted to help then but was confined to wait in his cell. So Tory marched with the Order to take back Hogwarts.

Once he saw that the gates to Hogwarts had been breached the young healer holstered his wand and looked around him at everyone else who had come to take back the school. He had some very trusted friends at his side. He would have their back just as he would have theirs.

He didn't make it through the entirety of the Minister's broadcast before he completely dropped what he had been doing and apparated. Where the Auror was meant to be, what he was to do, was something he did not question. It was time. The call had been made; he, along with so many others, was needed. Frankie Paton was needed at Hogwarts; his extended family at the school needed him; the future of the wizarding world needed him and everyone else who wanted to put an end to the Neo-Alliance.

But his own family needed him first. The first place the blond went was his own home, where he told his wife what was going on, what he was planning on doing, and begged her to stay at home with the children. Then he kissed his children goodbye, followed by his wife, and he was gone. It all happened in a blur, and now he was there at the school, casting spell after spell at the gate until it blasted away and allowed them passage onto the grounds.

Adrenaline was coursing through his veins as he made his way past the winged boars. His primary wand was gripped tight, his blue eyes looking for the enemy.

When she had heard the broadcast, the freelance curse-breaker couldn't refuse the call the action. The woman was very against this Neo-Alliance and what they stood for. She had heard whispers about them, but she was completely unaware that they had taken over the school. That only fuelled her fire more as she still felt it was her duty to do whatever she could to protect the place. After all, she used to be the headmistress not that long ago.

So there she stood amongst the others, casting spell after spell at the gate. Regina Hawthorne had to admit this was one way to bypass all of the complex wards that were designed to keep intruders out. She could break through those wards, though that would require time -- she was more than aware of how many layers of wards there were. Enough time to break the wards, however, was something they didn't have right now. They had a school to save and an army to defeat.

Once the gates were blown away, she stepped forward, her wand at the ready.

Like so many, she too heard the Minister's broadcast. Evelyn Hemlock knew it was only a matter of time before it was time for them to act. She and her group of friends had been buzzing about it for months now, theorizing what was to come of all of this change as they wondered about their children and how they were doing. They were aware of what was happening, and now they all, both sides, were being called upon.

Though she didn't stick out like a sore thumb in the crowd, she couldn't deny that she felt like she was somewhere she wasn't meant to be. It was what kept her silent as she stood among them, near the back of the group, as she watched those up front cast at the gate. But if anyone asked, she was here for her daughter. For a moment, she wondered just how much Cornelia had grown, what magic she had learned since stepping into the school, if she understood what it meant to be pure.

She clung onto the thought of seeing her again, after she did her part in making the world a better place for her. She followed everyone onto the grounds, her wand raised, waiting for the right time to make her allegiance known.