Ding Dong Bell. Look Who's in the Well!

Anastasia Nott and Francesca Bloom, among a handful of other students had managed to jump from the train before it went roaring off the viaduct. There were no Professors up on the viaduct but, given all the drama down below, it seemed much safer. Neither Fran nor Ana were aware of who this 'Blood Pack' were but a few whispers around them confirmed that they were here, somewhere along with.

'Mum?' Ana gasped suddenly, her eyes catching sight of that familiar pug face lady with a long quick-quotes-quill and a scroll of parchment. She shouldn't have been overly surprised, a story was everything to that woman but she wasn't even helping? Here Ana was, stranded on a ledge, her Mother unaware when for all she knew the youngest Nott could be crushed beneath a load of trunks under the water.

Hope sparked for a moment in the Gryffindor at the sight of her Father and Brother, at least two of them had come to her rescue. Perhaps her Father cared after- No. That flush of optimism had been poured down the drain. They were too busy helping Ally onto the shore - who was so wet she could be ringed out.

Any sister would have been happy to know that her sister was alive and, really, Anastasia was but the sight of her Father and Brother pampering her with warm towels, checking her up and down for any injures and walking her to the castle with their arms around her wasn't a pleasant sight. It was a sight that only reminded her of how much of a black sheep she was. Ana could never live up to her Father's expectations, even if she had done he probably wouldn't even give her recognition. At least Alexander was a little better than Dad but, still, a little girl should be loved by her Father not thrown aside like a cast away crumb.

Wiping a stray tear from her eyes Anastasia looked down. The metal track had bent down was twisted and then... Gone. Like the train the end of the track was now no longer visible below the water and somehow Allyson had gotten out alive. A part of the Gryffindor was regretting her premature jump. Had she been under the water, water in her lungs, skin so pale you'd believe her to be an inferi, perhaps then her Father would care.

But for all he knows you could be down there. Ana reminded herself. She was done with her Father, at least in this moment. Tomorrow morning Ana would surely be eating her words but this evening the Gryffindor couldn't care less about her Father, her brother or her sister. As for her Mother, well, Pansy was a different vote altogether.

Turning around and finding a spot besides the dark haired girl, Anastasia slumped herself down and - Oh great. That was the worst decision Ana could have made. One look at her bloody leg and Francesca Bloom had fainted.

'Can someone help her whilst I sort my leg out, please?' Ana called to a group of students who had huddled together and were watching the chaos play out into a more organised mess.

Pulling her robes from her Ana used the inside dab at her wound. It stung but the Gryffindor would rather not have anybody else fainting because of her attempt at a 007 escape jump.

With old fairy tales put to song on her lips, the wearied eyes of her infant kin dropped off to their close, their heads lulled heavy against her. Her mouth found their heads to press two sweet kisses and upon rising she swayed gently to and fro, retracing her steps to the nursery that the castle walls had shrunk and grown to make, that the elves had gleefully furnished and with which she and her children had fallen in love. It was there that she put them down, tugging up the covers around them. The peace was quietly influencing everything about them. Their mother slid to the soft, bright rugs that adorned the cool stone floors, her eyes sagging with contentedness. A House Elf packing away the last of the children’s things, having been insistent despite the Divination professor’s displeasure, stifled a yawn. But somehow, this peace did not last.

A feeling of dread slipped low within her gut, waking her from her dozing. She blinked, lifting her gaze about to find the gaze of her formerly slumbering daughter, staring at her with all of the pointedness of the craft which her mother had come to Hogwarts to perfect. Something was wrong. She got to her feet with a start, trying to temper herself in the event that she was being foolish. Her son slept on but it was to Kelly that she strayed, kissing her forehead, whispering assurances that whatever came, she would see it off. If possible, the child addressed her with a dubious look. Millie passed the infant a firm one in return and relenting against the will of her mother, Kelly slid her eyes shut; though both doubted any rest would be found.

Hogwarts’ wonders never ceased. Their rooms linked up with so much, namely her office but also that of the counselling office, too. It was into her office that she strayed, her hands seizing the rings of the sneakoscope she had by her desk. Inside, the ball was whizzing uncontrollably and, looking up, her crystal balls had gone to murk where before the prophecies had been clear. At that moment, the fireplace exploded into life and out from it poured the form of the Transfiguration professor. Millie straightened herself, fear rapidly chasing away the balance in her gaze as she perceived Addie for herself. Then terror.

“Stay, please,” she begged, her hands catching hold of Addie’s, catching her foot around the leg of her office chair, pulling it out. She gestured to the chair, blinking rapidly as she tried to form a plan in her mind. “Hurt, me?” She admonished, managing to somehow keep hold of her humour. “I’ll do what I have to do, honey. Okay? Just, stay here, if you would. Please. Keep an ear for the twins. Just… I’ll be back.”

And with that, while her counterpart did not desire to run, it was something that was second nature to the blonde. She burst through the door and from there half fell down the staircases, stumbling and throwing herself forward until she was out in the burning air of the grounds. Her eyes caught the sight, her heart slipped into her stomach and though the compulsion was to run and to hide she knew that in there somewhere was her husband. So in place of all sense, she carried herself forward, her wand burning at its end.

The splashing at the water’s edge to her direct left made her tear her gaze from the train still sliding steadily into the water and she threw up her wand, sending a stunning spell at the werewolf chasing a band of first years. The dog took the force of the spell in the chest and he was thrown up over the lake, a tentacle of the squid shooting out to grab him and pull him underneath. With her wand between her teeth, Millie rushed to help the children out of the water, lifting them onto the embankment, urging them to go inside, as the ghosts were helping the survivors to do.

“MILLIE!”

Her head twisted around and her legs half gave out beneath her as she stumbled forward, falling into the sand beside Baldric and her husband.

“Bae, Bae…” she uttered furiously, uselessly, tears suddenly springing forth from her eyes.

“He’s alright,” Baldric swore promised, turning Keiran over to his side, hitting him on the back. “Get the water out. All of it, mate.”

Millie, impulsively, reached down and kissed Keiran’s forehead before getting back to her feet.

“Oi!” Baldric called out. “Where are you going? Millie!”

But she was gone, hurrying across the sand, scalding off any encroaching werewolves with her wand, dragging the students out of the water often by the scruff of their neck, bringing them to stand before shoving them off up towards the castle. All superficial wounds were healed with the sizzle of her wand, her prize objective to get them out of the water and away from the wolves. The screams dulled themselves to her as method became clear amidst the madness and she healed, pulled and shoved, using all of her anger and fear in the berating spells she sent towards their assailants. For them, she’d save all of her ire and they were lucky, in truth, that the spells were red, not green.

“Professor? Professor Potter?”

Somehow, the Malfoys’ selfish need for survival had kicked in. Somehow, in gathering her countenance, Isadora had made it ashore. Her head ached, the thick, metallic taste of blood heady on her lips. Yet somehow she’d made it. She’d hauled herself out of the carriage, pulling with her two children who followed on behind, a brother and sister. Krums, if their lilting voices told her anything of them. They abandoned themselves onto the sand, their chests heaving, while she scrabbled towards the DADA professor, her hands finding his shoulders.

“Professor?” She insisted, taking a breath before spitting a mouthful of water onto the grass. Isadora gasped, seizing one hand up to grasp at her head, and she winced as the blood began to slide across her forehead, through into her eyes. She scrubbed it away, necessity making it prudent for her not to linger on her own injuries. The professor needed his feet, needed to help them. She took a few gulping breaths, her eyes dancing across his form feverishly in search of his injury. His leg. There. She summoned her wits and with visible effort found her wand amidst her robes, lighting the end with bright, white magic – healing magic.

“Vulnera Sanetur,” she whispered, her voice moving into the songlike tune that the spell needed. Slowly but surely, or perhaps it was quick for she couldn’t properly tell, the wound began to close though with the blood it did not look any better for it. She stowed her wand away after and scrabbled away from the professor, checking upon the Krums who had gathered themselves and were wringing out their robes.

“Are you alright?” She asked, grasping hold of the eldest, shaking him briefly. Thierry Krum nodded and Isadora took a breath, tugging her housemate towards her briefly, impulsively, before releasing him from the hug, pushing him towards his sister, instructing them to go up to the castle where they would be safe.

Once the children scampered away, the pain truly began to set in and her fragile arms slid out from underneath her, dropping her down roughly against the ground. Her breathing levelled gradually, her eyes sliding shut. And like that her form lost the might of Isadora Malfoy, Isadora Nott. No, she was just a girl, swamped in sodden robes, with hair bled to scarlet and pounding pain loosening its way through her.

The Ministry had been summoned and this was not a call that would go unanswered. From the hallowed halls sprang the law and enforcement officers, including Elizabeth Murdoch. From the bowels of the building, the Unspeakables, some who hadn’t been seen for decades, strode, their wands bowed to the floor, burning with energy. From his office, amidst the Obliviators, Hugo Weasley departed, hurrying along after his co-workers to the fireplaces in the grand atrium. From there they flooed, tumbling out the other side into the entrance hall fireplace of the school. They turned out onto the grounds, the formerly spoken of Ministry workers leaping into battle, the latter helping get the students from the water.

Hugo stood for a moment, surveying the world laid out before him, one in utter, irrevocable turmoil. He felt his heart rate increase but before he could register any panic he found himself lighting fires in the great hall and with the ghosts that had spilled out of the castle, helped navigate younger students through into the castle, healing as many inconsequential cuts and scratches as he could while he went. Soon enough he was down in the grounds, however, directing more and more up into the castle as they staggered sodden from the water. Any call for assistance Hugo answered, drifting here and there, summoning blankets and other equipment for the freezing and terrified.

When a call reached his ear, he turned, fixing his gaze upon a girl he felt sure he vaguely recognised. He remembered as he drew close. Anastasia Nott. She had asked for help but not for herself, who looked in more peril, but rather her friend who, upon inspection, was unconscious but breathing. Her heart was regular, thrumming along merrily under her skin. Nevertheless, he uttered a stinging charm, attaching it to her side in order to rouse her. It wouldn’t hurt. It would be more like a tickle than anything else.

“Let me look at your leg,” he insisted gruffly, turning to Anastasia, batting away her hand and her robes to further inspect it. “Do you want the pain killed?” He asked. “I can heal it but it’ll be rough and it’ll be hurt.”

James saw the entire student body, professors, community members, all on the shore of the Black Lake. James could smell blood and death. It fueled his senses.

"Hunt!" he shouted to his pack. "Turn who you can, and kill what you need!" The pack members needed no further encouragement. This was what they had come for. Hunting. It was everything. Turning more? That was James's business. But hunting? That was what his pack lived for.

"James!" Khaat shouted on purpose for him. "If you had all your pack with you, you still couldn't catch me! None of them are worth a hairball!"

James turned, narrowing his eyes at her. It was bait, and he knew it. But he couldn't stand being humiliated, werewolves being called out. And certainly not by her.

"You die today. It ends here," he told her.

"I'm going this way," she pointed towards the gate, away from the students. "You'd better get a move on." She began to run again. He howled, ready to hunt and to kill.

Marcus had brought up as many students as he could find. As he got to shore, he saw the twin Tremains coming up as well, and Brian wasn't far behind. They couldn't find anymore.

Marcus's eyes were searching for the signs of his five children. He saw four of them huddled together on the shore, comforting each other.  They were safe. Thank God. They were safe.  He wanted to hug them and take them home and never take them from the safety of their home ever again.

Then his eyes fell on a willowy blond with a small girl clinging to her. Poppy.  Marcus took three large quick strides.

"Poppy," he called urgently.  She turned her head and looked at him, wide eyed, traumatized.  She reached for him, beginning to cry.

"Daddy!" she wept. He took her from the woman, looking into her face. "Thank you," he said to her. She didn't speak.  She just nodded and shifted her gaze to look at the scene around her.

Marcus wrapped Poppy tight to him. "You alright?" he asked softly. "Yes?"  She clung to him as if she'd never ever let him breathe again. He kissed her cheek. "It's alright," he soothed. "I'm here."

"Belby!" an alarmed voice jolted him out of his reunion. He glanced towards one of the Tremaine's, who was pointing towards the gate. Marcus looked and saw Khaat running like the wind, and James right on her heels.

Marcus was jolted back to duty. He plopped Poppy on the shore with his other children. "Stay here with your brothers and sisters," he said sharply. "Get inside the castle! Run! Stay together! Go!  Don't look back!"  

His children needed no further instruction. They jumped to their feet, despite what they'd just been through and they sprinted for the castle, dragging Poppy with them.

Marcus drew his wand and raced as fast as he could towards Khaat. He fired a stunning spell at James.  The sound of wand fire drew the attention of the werewolves.  Half of them turned to follow Marcus to protect their leader.

This was what she had intended. She was deliberately going to try to lure as many of them as she could off school grounds. His job? Either keep her alive, or die trying.

In the Potter children there was the question of morals, in all of them. So very much unlike his father before him, James had few qualms about using unforgivable curses. He consoled himself with knowing that it was for the better, that no one would question him for it because what was at risk was far greater. There were little lives that were going to be lost but he was determined that no one should suffer further at the hands of the werewolves, though he couldn’t help but think of Teddy and hope that somehow he’d forgive him for what he was going to do.

James had arrived with the Ministry, with his cousin Hugo and a few others. He’d shot out ahead of his cousin and found himself in the thick of the chaos down by the shore. He too aided the students up towards the castle but his entire task change when he heard Blood’s shout. Hunt. James tore off in the direction of the werewolves, finding himself the midst of it with a blonde woman beside him that he was sure he vaguely recognised. Her eyes widened briefly at the sight of him and then she surged forward, pushing him into the water.

When they resurfaced, James helped pull her out of the water but immediately they were beset upon the werewolf that she’d saved him from meeting the rough end of. Before James could gather his wits, the werewolf was propelled away from them, the sodden witch beside them having sent a stunner at the creature, sending it careering into the Forbidden Forest. She smirked briefly and hurried off, pulling James along by the cuff of his robes and gathered his senses once more.

It took him a minute but upon seeing her continue to wash away the wolves with all of the magic passion provided for her, James realised who the witch was. She had been one of the high up secretaries, with the Minister of Magic. Melissa. No, Millie… something. Though, he doubted surnames were important in the long run. Rather, he was mystified by what she was doing. This little woman, fighting with venom an asp would envy her possession of.

Perceiving another wolf surging towards her, James pushed forward, pulling Millie out of the way and firing confringo at the creature. The one she’d been tossing spells at, that he’d been meeting measure for measure, was thrown away in the blast and James turned Millie in towards his chest, bending over her to protect the woman from the explosion. Her hands grasped at his which had curled around her middle and she intertwined their fingers, flinging herself out from behind him to slam another spell at an oncoming assailant.

“Potter, eh?” She asked breathlessly.

“One of many,” James returned regretfully. His eyes widened. “Your eleven o’clock.”

Millie turned, throwing another stunning curse which whipped from his feet the werewolf chasing after a group of third years unable to get their act together to return fire. With a howl he was tossed into the water and after pausing to admire her work, James tugged her along, the two thundering across the embankment towards another encroaching band of wolves. It was then that the game changed. The spells thrown from James’ wand halted in their playful competitiveness.

“Confringo!” He threw the spell again, sending it sizzling into the crowd, tossing half further up, others sent tumbling into the lake, unconscious, deafened or dead. Those who made it out alive were hit by a sudden thrust of green magic, dropping him down to the floor like a pile of bricks.

“James!” Millie exclaimed, sparing a moment to be scandalised before he pulled her out of the way again, throwing another killing curse. “Are you mad?”

“Sane, sweetheart, I promise!” He smiled, unfurling her from his body. She hung off of him, and tossed away more bouncing spells, freezing some in their tracks, ballooning others off of their feet.

No, there was nothing particularly moral about Potters. Not really.

Amelia & Pansy:

Amelia finally reached the shore , the last of the students were now out of the water. However during her rescue mission the Professor hadn't dawdled to see if they were alive or not she had just gone full pelt into trying to bring as many bodies to the surface as possible. Now that she'd reached the shore things had changed.

A wizard was performing CPR on a nearby student, the healers from the school had come down and were beginning to heal anything from minor injuries to... The Professor froze as one conjured a stretched and began to wrap dark bandages around her target. Evidently they had failed to heal everything. Already Amelia could see a small row of bodies wrapped in black symbolising their passing.

The merpeople had helped her, Marcus Belby and other members of the Lupin clan had arrived and were dragging the last few bodies from the water. Yet, unsurprisingly, it didn't comfort Amelia knowing all the students were on dry land. It was a pain. For a moment whilst she was under the water Amelia had been absorbed in the moment, oblivious to the surroundings. Perhaps this had been a good thing, it had kept her focused and strong but now was the time she wanted to fall to her knees.

The bodies would need identifying, especially the smaller ones who could possibly be first years although as disrespectful as it may seem now wasn't the time. The werewolves were rapidly approach the shore, some had already landed and were sending stunning spells to anyone that they could see.

'HUNT!' Those awful words echoed around the grounds. Nobody could mistake what Blood had commanded his pack to do. Amelia was quite certain he'd also asked them to turn but they weren't in their wolf form? They could also transform others once they were transformed themselves and for that a full moon was needed.

Her heart dropped. From behind the clouds, looming ominously, the full moon came into view.

'INSIDE NOW!' Amelia yelled to anybody who heard, forget your injuries just get inside!' They could deal with cuts and scratches once they were in the safety of the castle, not now, not here, not amidst the pack members as the clothes ripped from their skin, as fur sprouted all over their skin and as their muscles bulged outwardly and soon enough they were in their wolf form.

'PROTEGO TOTALUM.' Amelia cried, casting other protective barriers near the castle doors to prevent any werewolves from being able to bypass.

'Professor!' Someone cried! Amelia turned, coming headlong towards her was a wold on its hind legs howling and galloping straight for her.

'Conjunctivitis!' She yelled, her hex hitting the werewolf squarely in the eyes causing it to howl in pain, distracting it for a moment whilst she ran up the sweeping laws towards the castle, sending a trip jinx at another that had ran headlong for Pansy Parkinson-Nott.

'GET THE STUDENTS IN THE CASTLE!' Amelia ordered her, not that this helped for the reporter sprinted headlong up through the barrier and to safety - no way was she risking her life to save a few puny children, besides the more deaths for her the more dramatic a story. She had just over heard a first year, who she knew to be Ana Levski's child, call Marcus Belby 'Daddy' that would make for a dramatic enough story. All in due time though. All in due time.


---
Anastasia:

'I'm fine it's her! She's fainted!' Anastasia protested retracting her leg from the wizards view. However the surprise of someone actually hearing her call for aid was drowned out by a deafening howl. Her eyes had saw the full moon, they'd followed it's ghostly beams across the lake and to the shore where the werewolves were, well, 'WEREWOLVES!' She screamed.

'I don't feel very good.' The Hufflepuff muttered, regaining consciousness and pushing her self up into her knees her head leaning forward as though she was going to be sick.

Anastasia ignored her. They may be safe from the werewolves up on the viaduct but her friends were at the werewolves mercy, their uncontrollable mercy as they had forgotten who or why exactly they were.

'We have to do something, we-we-we have to stop them!' Anastasia gasped tugging at Hugo's arm for some sort of idea.


---
(OOC: I was a bit confused if the werewolves had transformed or not? If I need to edit let me know!)

(ooc: you're exactly right. its all good)

Michael had come out of the water and was just trying to get his breath when he heard James order the pack to hunt. Michael groaned, feeling annoyed. He wasn't panicked, for some reason. He was annoyed. He looked over at his 'twin.'

"Oh bloody hell," he sighed, drawing his wand, "I'm getting too old for this."

"With me, then?" his twin asked.

"When am I not?" Michael resolved. His twin moved in to stand between the students and the werewolves, hoping to help give them a safe path to get inside.

"Get behind me!" Michael's twin shouted at the students. "Run! We'll cover you! Get inside!" He was hoping to all heaven that Professor Cooper would close the huge front gate of the castle soon. The students knew how to get in without going through the front gate. He was hoping the Professor would start shutting down access into the castle.

Michael took a stance beside his twin to try to offer themselves as human shields to protect the students. Michael glanced quickly to find Brian and Angus. They both fully engaged in fighting James' pack.

These were the times that made Hugo Weasley wish he’d become an auror like his father rather than an obliviator. He knew his spells, he was his mother’s son after all, but somehow he still felt woefully unprepared as the werewolves began to collapse and change. He thought for a minute he saw Beth disappear into the thicket of trees but he had no clue what happened to her thereafter so he pressed it from his mind and focused on the girls before him, one unable to walk, the other next to useless.

Hugo winced as Anastasia’s scream met his ear and he turned, seeing the pack beginning change, grow fur and more menace than they had before. Hugo licked his lips as panic began to set into him and he looked at the two girls, trying to decide who was more of immediate concern to him. They needed to get inside. There was no avoiding this now so, as the students set into the werewolves, Hugo grasped Anastasia’s arms.

“Can you walk?” He asked her roughly. “We need to get inside, now. I’ll take this one,” he gestured to the still unconscious Hufflepuff.