Even with all of the chaos happening around him, all Abraham could momentarily focus on was the fact that Waylon was gripping his hand tightly. The island looked just like a battleground out of an old movie; the Dementors and the Death Eaters had no plans to give up. What exactly did they WANT? Who were they out to get? There was no time to answer the questions, because as soon as Waylon cased the smoke that enveloped the surrounding area around them in a thick smog-like smoke, the rain began coming down in bigger, angrier drops.
He barely had time to register which direction the rapid spells were coming from when suddenly he heard Waylon laughing, practically screaming with laughter, next to him. So this is what it must be like to lose your mind, he thought to himself, then began pulling Waylon to the right in the direction of the castle. They were covered by the smoke and the rain, but it wasn’t enough.
Before he could even spot the Dementors, Waylon had released a perfectly formed wolf patronus in the air, and all Abraham could do was watch as the wolf ran full speed towards the Dementors and collided against the dark masses to create a mirage of smoke and mist.
It was not until he noticed the Dementors scrambling away that he saw the Headmaster and the faculty finally outside, engaging in battle. “Over there!!” Abraham exclaimed, then glanced at an overwhelmed Waylon and began leading him to where the Headmaster was. The most important thing he could do was to get Natasha to the infirmary, and soon. He could only hope that he had gotten to her in time.
He was well aware of the fact that the cruise was under attack. Even more so he was aware of the fact that what the death eaters really wanted was to enter the school, and the first step that had been done to prevent so was to cast a variety of protective spells around the perimeter. The ancient brick walls soaked in the magic, but his job was not even close to finished.
Alongside half of the faculty, the Headmaster stormed outside in the midst of falling rain, flying spells, flashes of color and the cold presence of the Dementors. Chaos was present everywhere, but it did not take long for the professors to take over from where the seventh years started. For a few moments, the Headmaster watched as the Dementors scattered like cockroaches; his presence even made the rabid-like death eaters disappear with through the thick brush. A few professors chased after them, while in the distance, the Headmaster could make out two students he knew quite well, with a third on one of their shoulders. Abraham Delavergne and Waylon Wolfsbach were hurrying up the beach towards the castle while some professors led other students in lines to safety, and the remaining ones hurried to the battered ship to see if anyone had been left behind. In the midst of the crowd, he saw a female student carrying a body as well. As she walked by, it didn’t take much to realize that the body, that of Bobby Burkinson, was nothing more than a corpse. His bright blue eyes were open and contrasted against his pallid, deceased flesh, and the Headmaster watched as one of the professors took the body from the girl as gently as possible.
“Headmaster,” Abraham said once he was within hearing distance of the elder wizard.
“Headmaster,” he repeated, a bit out of breath, and before he could go on, the Headmaster silenced him with a sharp look then wordlessly led the two boys within the castle. The doors were wide open and as they walked in ahead of the other professors and students, they were welcomed by ominous silence.
With a quick glance over his shoulder, the Headmaster noticed that the unconscious person on Abraham’s shoulder was Natasha Daggerman. “Take her to the infirmary Abraham, and when you return I do believe you have Prefect duties to attend to,” the Headmaster said in his usual quiet, emotionless voice. He watched as Abraham shot his eyebrows up in complete surprise, then gave the Headmaster a quick shake of the head.
“Sir, I am not the Arietem prefect, Bobby is—“
“Bobby is dead.”
Those words were enough to once again silence Abraham, but it wasn’t shocked silence. It was ‘I-was-afraid-to-ask-because-I-hoped-it-wasn’t-true’ silence. Without another glance at the Headmaster, Abraham nodded his head once sternly, then took Waylon's hand, grasped it tightly and led him to the infirmary hurriedly.
“Sir, we have gathered them in the dining hall, perhaps you should say a few words now…” The Astronomy professor’s words sounded from behind the Headmaster, and with a quick nod he turned to face her.
“Yes, I do believe you are right,” he simply replied, and began making his way down the long corridor, his robes flying behind him. It was time to address the school.