Past 1900 hours. Camden Town Stables, Muggle London. Leading in from this thread.

"THE LEAKY CAULDRON!"


A loud crash preceded Virgil's consciousness of what was going on - he had remembered belatedly that The Leaky Cauldron no longer existed, and so opened his eyes with apprehension when the blur of fireplaces had gone by. Something hot and tingling with magic shoved the group from behind as they hurtled towards their final destination...

"Bloody hell!" a squawk.

Virgil fell to to the filthy cobbled floor of a Camden Town shoppe, one by one his peers falling on top or next to him from behind. He coughed violently at the dust coming up around them.

An old white haired lady[1], smoking a pipe behind the counter, gapped at the group. It was her voice they'd heard. From her view they had simply burst out from the walled up entrance of an old fireplace in the stables - covered in blood. She looked at her pipe suspiciously and put it down before slowly hobbling over.

They were a mess of groans. Virgil was struggling to breathe beneath the weight of whoever had landed on him, but he could smell burning incense and pungent scent of muggle contraband. Clutter surrounded them: trinkets, old furniture, homemade candles.

At least he could be sure they were no longer in the labyrinth.

1.	NPC, feel free to write her however!

There was only less than a second for Gracie’s eyes to widen in alarm. But then everything went up in emerald flames, and after that there was no more talking—only a dizzying, wrenching feeling.

Luckily Virgil made a decent buffer, bony though he was. He might have even saved her a bruise or two. Still, it was far from a smooth landing; a beat later she, too, met the same fate.

Needless to say, it took some time to gather her bearings.

With no small amount of effort, the witch shoved at the person on top of her, shoving and shoving until they rolled off. “‘Leaky Cauldron’?” she muttered, as she crawled off of him as well. “Really?” It was only slightly sarcastic; she blamed it on noodly limbs. She wasn’t used to having noodly limbs, even at her most tired. Right now she was getting by on irritation, necessity, and a resolve to get them all somewhere safe, but she wasn’t fine. In fact, she was operating under an entirely different system now, one that had her regard their surroundings with considerably less chill than usual.

Beneath the blood and dust, green eyes were alert and assessing. Cobblestone, they saw, counters, stalls full of merchandise. String lights and white tents against a sky bleeding into purple and orange. Sounds filtered in – the buzz of conversation, of advertising, lively but muted and carrying with them the scents of food. Some kind of market, maybe? Gritting her teeth against bruises that had yet to be found (and stupid limbs that just wouldn’t stop shaking, argh), Gracie grabbed onto one of the counters and pulled herself up, bracing herself against it when legs proved themselves wobbly.

Whatever this was, they had wound up in a relatively quiet part of it. There were tables, yes, and merch set out on top of them, but most of it were in boxes, or sitting in chairs, or hanging from racks like they’d been put there without care. Tents fluttered uselessly against their frames, revealing the lack of vendors or customers within–


     “Hey!”


Except one. A woman – a muggle woman – hurried towards them, shock written all over her features.

Crap.

“Gracie?”

A burst of adrenaline saw her dashing past Esther, rushing back to the boys. “Get up get up get up,” she chanted, grabbing an arm and yanking hard until its owner found his feet. “Catch your breath later, we gotta go–”

Another shout. Without pausing, Gracie grabbed Virgil’s hand and broke into a run, trusting the others to follow.

It was already too late when Nicholas heard Virgil's shouted destination and they were all hurtling to what was probably going to be a painful death. 

Thankfully he was wrong, assuming Gracie didn't skin him for landing on her, and between the both of them, he hoped they hadn't broken him. But they weren't dead.  And they weren't in whatever was left of the Leaky Cauldron.  He barely registered all that before he was roughly shoved off.  He landed next to them with a grunt.

Nicholas rolled over slowly, he heard noise and talking coming from somewhere and as far as he was concerned, he was happy to lay there until found.

"Get up get up get up.”

He closed his eyes, "No No No No." Nicholas groaned before it felt like his arm was being ripped off and he found himself on his feet without his permission.  Then  Gracie was off, with Virgil–of course.  And rather than be left behind he started running after them.

"WAIT—What—Why are we running"  He yelled ahead to the Slytherins.

Looking past the older witch, Esther felt her eyes widen in panic. A muggle—a witness. Just what they needed.

Not.

At Gracie’s urging, they all broke into a run, trailing behind as she darted around tables and sidestepped boxes and chairs. An arm thrust out smacked against tarp, making an opening; one by one they ducked into another tent, and then another.

At the moment breath was a precious commodity, but– “Someone saw us,” said Esther tightly, breathing hard. Slim legs pumped as fast as they could; by some miracle her shoes had stayed intact during their stay at the Ministry and escape from it, but they were still five-inch heels. No matter how comfortable she was in them, running in them wasn’t something she was used to. “Do you want to explain why we– why we–”

The simile was at the tip of her tongue, but a large crate was in her way. Rather than go around it, the petite Slytherin put on a burst of speed and vaulted over it. She landed as neatly as she could. “Why we look like extras in a slasher film?” she finished breathlessly—proudly, too. As far as colloquialisms went, it was definitely one of her better ones.

In fact, it was enough to have her push herself even harder, albeit briefly.

Before long, they came across a veritable barricade of stacked crates, boxes and pallets—all sorts of things, Esther supposed, that dealt with the handling of other things, piled high enough to reach the next story. Trash bags, bins and long metal rods made another pile.

Esther felt her stomach drop. A dead end?

“Over there,” said Gracie. Jerking her chin at what at first seemed like nothing special – just another part of the pile of stuff – the older witch dropped Virgil’s hand and darted closer, revealing a narrow passage around it—and, at the end of it, the giant door of… a stable?

She shoved it open a little further and stepped aside to let them through. “We should be safe here,” she said, ushering them in as she looked outside.

Esther looked up from the rack of clothing she was browsing through. “But what about the woman?” she asked, hand falling away as brows creased into a worried frown. “Someone saw us. What if she… what if she knows where we are? What if she brings people with her?” Like the authorities. Muggle authorities. She wrung her hands. Without magic, they had no means of defense or escape. She didn’t think they would hurt them, but they would want to ask questions neither of them could answer, or do anything about.

Gracie looked down, frowning slightly, before meeting their eyes with a steady expression. “I’ll stay outside and keep watch. You… and Bastian–” Her expression brightened. “You guys are still underage, aren’t you? So you’ve still got the Trace. See what you can do to attract the Ministry’s attention. Nicholas, Virgil–” She looked to the boys. “Feel free to join me, if you’re feeling up to it.”

And then she ducked back outside.

Andromeda was not absolutely sure what they were looking for. Best outcome was a whole group of students. Worse was some bodies. She was in Camden with Bertie as instructed. They were patrolling the area around the stables market. Andromeda was glad to be working on valentines day night. Just as long as people did not get into domestics and start cursing one another. She wanted to find the students. She had led lots of questions at Hogwarts the day before. It had not given any more leads on where the students had gone. They were in Camden tonight because of a vision. Andromeda hoped it was right.

Nadine's gaze swept back and forth around them as they made their way round the market. Her fingertips clasped her wand carefully, ready to strike at a moment's notice of trouble, but keeping it out of sight amongst the Muggles. Andromeda and Adelebert were also sweeping the area.

As they searched, Nadine tried hard to put out of her mind that these teenagers were the same age as her daughter and younger. She was naturally relieved Ariadne had not been amongst them, but her housemates and classmates were and she had hoped to Merlin that they all returned safely from wherever they'd been taken. There were far too many strange and deeply worrying events of late, and the fact students had been taken rather than adults or any other beings.

The three of them were oblivious to the incident unfolding in Solomon Carstair's office back on level 2. Had Nadine known, she might have felt more sceptical that the students would turn up in a market, than inside of the Ministry itself, but for now this was their only viable lead.

"Hughes, Gamp, anything?"

Being bloodstained in muggle Camden wasn’t exactly normal, but Bastian was reasonably sure that they could talk themselves out of it. People did all kinds of nonsensical things for good causes, and Camden was exactly the kind of place that people who did nonsensical things congregated. Running was also fine, though Virgil looked like he might fall over if someone sneezed on him.

In the relative seclusion of wherever they were, Bastian swore. When he started, it was difficult to stop, until he was whispering merde over and over, breathing harshly. Gracie’s question startled him, but it was… good. A good idea. Surely, if they were missing, the authorities would be looking for them. The trace would attract the ministry without drawing attention from muggles.

Bastian reached into his pocket for his wand, and then his other pocket, trying not to panic because it didn’t really matter if he didn’t have his wand, and – it was in his other pocket. “I can,” he volunteered, flicking it through the air experimentally.

There were few spells he was genuinely good at, but, fortunately, he was good at cleaning things – particularly clothes. “Esther,” he said, gentle, “do you mind?” he gestured to her clothes.

"I-" Bastian smiled encouragingly, because Esther (always wound tight) looked close to snapping. He didn’t say anything as she straightened, shaking her head with a quiet “no.” She stepped closer. His smile widened, and he lifted his wand, “Tergeo!” The dirt and blood lifted, but Esther’s clothes weren’t quite clean. It was enough to activate the trace, but he repeated the spell anyway, the last traces of blood disappearing and the fabric returning to its natural colour.

Virgil slumped against a hollow crate, running a hand over his face and then through his hair - blood smeared thickly across a milky white countenance and caught on strands of gold. He was barely awake, watching their group from beneath heavy eyelids.

They were, as far as he could tell, in a dusty stable closed off by various market goods. Storage? Possibly. He didn't care. He only wanted to be out of view and away from the evening bustle, where he was no longer able to differentiate physical voices from the murmur of minds.

Gracie disappeared out of view and Virgil slowly let himself sink to the floor while the fifth years went about activating their Trace. It was a good idea. Better than rushing headlong into an experimental floo hearth.

The seventh year gripped his wand tightly and frowned, glancing at his rolled up sleeves: the scratches on his forearm. He was so weak. Had they taken blood? How much? Why? Questions repressed by the urgency of escaping trickled into his thought stream.

He was losing it, could feel consciousness trying to seep away like a drop of ink in water.

"Don't... don't clean all the blood. Leave it on." Virgil heard himself say to Bastian, eyes closed. It was evidence and proof. "They might need it."

His world fell into the grey smoke of dreams.

"Something!" Andie replied. She clasped something like a rememberall in her left hand. It was detecting magic and had just changed colour on the left side. She led them in that direction a few steps, gripping her wand. Then it changed again. Deeper purple colour. They were definitely going in the right direction. Someone was casting magic nearby. "Someone is using magic." Andromeda explained. She held the orb out in front of her. They began to hurry. Andromeda kept glancing at the orb and up again. "Check for people I will focus on our direction." She told the other two.

When they'd stopped running, Nicholas promptly threw himself back to the ground next to a crate. His lungs were burning, and he was having a hard time catching his breath.

"If she followed...we'll deal with it."  Nicholas managed to respond to Esther between ragged breaths.  Easiest would be to stun them, but that depended on if the woman was crazy and followed a bunch of bloody teenagers without getting help.  More than likely, she'd do the smart thing and there were going to be people looking for them.  Assuming they believed the woman about kids magically appearing in front of her.

"Yeah—I'm up to it."  Maybe.  He pulled himself up with the crate.  He walked over to the exit, wishing that he didn't agree with Virgil about leaving the blood evidence on them, because beyond anything else, he wanted to be clean.  The blood was still sticky, and he'd never felt so disgusting in his life.  And that was without thinking about whose blood it was.

He looked back, only to see Virgil's eyes closed.  Panic started to rise, or maybe his gorge, but then Virgil's chest rose, so not dead.  Sleeping then...or unconscious.  "Oi! Mate!  Wake up!"   Nicholas shouted at Virgil, only to be met with something mumbled from deep within a dream.

With a sigh, he stepped outside to keep watch with Gracie.  "Virgil passed out."  Wish I could, Nicholas thought as he watched for signs that the woman had raised an alarm.

As if triggered by her query, Andromeda exclaimed she had something. Nadine's direction changed to pull closer to her colleague, glancing down at the orb in her hand before looking up and around them. Together they hurried along in the direction the magic appeared to be coming from. As Gamp was fixated on the readings, Nadine was sure to be vigilant around them for attack. Who knew if the kidnappers were here or if this vision was an ambush!

The three of them rounded a corner strategically, wands in hand. Up ahead were figures.
"Hold up," She told the other two, sweeping into the shadows to observe. A glance to Gamp's readings confirmed this was definitely the correct direction for the source of magic. The figures were definitely their kind. From her pocket, Nadine drew a pair of magical binoculars, well worn and adapted for stake-outs and observations and focused in on the figures.

"It's them. Or two of them." She confirmed with a nod and a glance to them both "Let's move."

Revealing themselves to Gracie and Nick, Nadine's wand did not lower, expecting company.
"Well you guys certainly know how to play hide and seek..." Nadine called out, eyes scanning the shadows around them. "You alone?"

Outside, as the others began to settle, Gracie found herself a crate to sit on–

–walked over feeling frail as hell–

…gingerly climbed on top of it…

…and put her head in her hands. Slowly the young witch unwound, piece by piece, until it was all she could do to just breathe.

They were safe.  –Or, not safe, exactly, but – in considerably less danger than before. It was enough. Maybe any other day it would be splitting hairs, but Gracie wasn’t in the mood to care about what others, or even she herself usually thought—she was going to take what she could get and repeat it over and over with all the flat, breathless fervency of a prayer.  They were safe.  They were alive, they’d made it out, they were safe–

Her breath caught, hitching in that familiar, horrible way; with a hot rush of determination, she forced it down with a grit of her teeth. She’d been in high stress situations before. She was not going to cry, dammit!

When Nicholas appeared, she took one last, bracing breath and looked up, offering him a wan smile.

“It’s been a long day,” she said, as her hands hung between her knees. “You know how he is.”

Then—noise. People. Gracie exchanged with Nicholas an alarmed look before sliding off the crate, movements soundless and wary.

Wands were registered first, and the relief that coursed through her was practically instinctive, though threaded with a note of surprise: that was fast.  And then she remembered that they had just left the Ministry, and just like that, elation soured.

Even if she recognized her classmate’s mum – her former professor, even – she stayed in front of Nicholas, eyes darting between them, limbs loose but shoulders tense. The low hand she held out behind her, to him, couldn’t have been more obvious in its message than if she just turned into a snow leopard and snarled outright—though she was sure to fix a smile onto her face. Pleasantries always bought time.

“Not really,” she replied lightly, and gestured at herself, “not if you count the blood. We’re not convinced it’s ours, you see, even if it’s, you know, a bit impossible to tell…” She peered down at her shirt, as though seeing it bloodstained hadn’t nearly pushed her into the throes of a panic attack the first time, before seeming to catch herself. She glanced back at Nadine’s wand. “Could you do us a teeeeensy little favor and lower your wands before we take you to the others? You don’t have to put them away, it’s just been a really long day and after everything, all of this–”

Gracie gestured at the Aurors with a brittle little smile. “Is a lot less comforting than you think.”

With every jot of blood that disappeared from her dress, Esther felt lighter – safer – and gave Bastian a watery smile, one that was more for his benefit than it was an expression of her own feelings. It didn’t clean the blood entirely – she could scarcely stand to look at herself – but with the endeavor enough to put a smile on his face—that was worth more than any clean dress in the entire world.

Already close, she stepped even closer and gently covered Bastian’s wand hand with her own. The look she gave him was one of pure, naked affection.


     “Don’t… don’t clean all the blood. Leave it on.”


Esther jumped. But she didn’t pull away all the way—at least, not right away, and when she looked back at Bastian it was with a rueful smile, even as heat crept up her neck. “He’s right,” she admitted, squeezing his hand before letting go… in favor of a proper hug. Thin arms snaked around his neck, pulling him tight. “Thank you, Bastian,” she whispered, burying her face into his neck.

She clung to him, blissfully unaware of the proceedings outside.

Andromeda was very relieved to see it was Gracie Slant and Nicholas Bevans. She had memorised all the faces and names of the missing. They were covered in blood.
"Are you injured?" Andromeda ask urgently. There was definitely traces of magic behind the students. Gracie asked Nadine to lower her wand. Andromeda was holding the orb out still. Her wand was in her hand still. "Homenum Revelio." If there was anyone inside they would feel the spell. It simply proved people were inside. She put the orb in her coat pocket and called out. "Aurors! Lower your wands." She stepped inside and lit her wand tip brightly to see. "Bert, Nad, they are all covered in blood. We need help down here." Andromeda tried to make her expression a bit more reassuring. "It is ok you are safe now."

Nicholas wasn't happy about Gracie placing herself in front of him, but he didn't push the issue.  That would just distract both of them and that wasn't needed.  Despite his reputation among some, Nicholas did think things through.  Sometimes.  Occasionally.  Though his wand was in hand, and even if he wasn't really a match for Aurors, he kept it ready but down.

Hide and seek?  Really.  He bit his tongue, but it was difficult.  And only because the situation was still somewhat tense.  And Gracie still had her hand out, which he took to mean not to let the idiots in front if them have it since she certainly would have if she wasn't being so pleasant.  Like they'd just met up with Aurors on an afternoon stroll.

Until the other one just started casting charms and went in, shouting for wands down.  Like they were being arrested.  "By all means, barge in.  Traumatize the traumatized teenagers."  Then she was shouting about the blood.  "Yes I believe we might have mentioned that given the chance," he yelled back into the room, trying to look at the door and the other Aurors.  "Really?!"  He said to the Aurors left with them.