As he and his fellow aurors forced the dementors to scatter, sorrow and cold no longer clouded Hawke's judgement. The dark figures seemed to disappear, some drifting into the rafters like ghosts, others dissipating like smoke . . . making Hawke wonder briefly where exactly such hellish creatures might go to while they weren't in this dimension. On second thought, he really didn't want to know, shuddering to consider how one might come across that sort of knowledge. With the wraiths gone for now, the silvery cat padded back to its master, feelings of warmth spreading through him as the purring manifestation of his happiness nuzzled his hip in the same manner of its smaller domesticated cousins. Hawke dismissed the apparition with words of gratitude, though he knew it wasn't necessary. A patronus was but an extension of a wizard's own magic, yet still the cougar seemed to have a mind of its own.<br/><br/>And Hawke still needed to find Theo, but this battle wasn't finished.<br/><br/>Several of his comrades now traded curses with the hooded figures, dancing around the bodies of fallen duelists among the benches. Whoever these attackers were, their movements seemed off . . . jerky and unnatural. And it was odd, he noted, how they seemed uncaring of taking shelter or blocking the hexes whipping towards them, as if they didn't mind losing a limb. Perturbed, Hawke moved to assist, slipping behind a column and releasing a blast that aimed to paralyze.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> "Stupefy!"</span>He didn't want to kill these bastards. They would be much more useful to him in the interrogation chamber where he could ask them, himself, who'd sent them to murder his comrades and the innocents now staring mindlessly at nothing from the floor.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> <i>Someone even dementors will work for . . . </i></span>The Dark Lord's sallow face swam into his mind, a thought that sent legitimate fear straight to his gut.<br/><br/>His spell missed as the whirling target strafed to the left, quicker than any man or witch he'd tangled with before, which troubled him further. If nothing else, even veteran duelists often complemented Hawke on his speed, so that said something. Lining up his wand a second time, the first syllable left his lips, but the rest caught in his throat as a single chime echoed throughout the ceremony hall, the strike of a massive bell that vibrated his eardrums. Except there were no bells within the department.<br/><br/>Then, right before his eyes, the cloaked figures collapsed into dust, leaving behind only heaps of dark robes amid the large number of recently deceased. He was at a loss for words, having truly never seen something like this before. With everything still at last, Hawke stepped from his hiding place and made to investigate these heaps of cloth further, but a light tug on his robes stopped him.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ccff"> "Necromancy. We need to notify the Improper Use of Magic Office." </span><a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.polyvore.com%2Fcgi%2Fimg-thing%3F.out%3Djpg%26size%3Dl%26tid%3D27017921&amp;hash=2694bc051a0f875082faace27a416bc9" href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-thing?.out=jpg&amp;size=l&amp;tid=27017921" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Ophelia Tult,</a>her dark skin, thick lashes and sleek curls spoke of a colorful lineage. She was one of the few aurors among them who was well-deserving of Hawke's respect.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> "But the wards . . . "</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ccff"> "Someone from the inside," </span>she answered before he could finish. The two shared a worried glance.<br/><br/>Heart pounding in his throat, Hawke's green eyes scanned the bodies around them, carefully taking in their features. Anger and injustice poured from him in waves, very much evident in his sour expression as he attempted to count the dead. There were at least a dozen, but none of them were Theo, thankfully. That still begged the question of where his brother had been carried away to during the chaos of the attack. However, he wasn't given a choice in the matter of locating Theo. As the investigation went underway, Hawke found himself saddled with orders to evacuate the upper departments . . . and while he needed to find Theo more than anything, he comforted himself with the knowledge that his brother's corpse was nowhere to be found. And no one had exited to ministry, this he knew. The building would be on lock down as soon as the assigned aurors made their way to the atrium.<br/><br/>With his head full of questions, of necromancy and of those who had died tonight, Hawke combed the offices of level three one by one, almost on autopilot. It was odd seeing the Ministry so empty. In fact he hadn't seen it like this since . . . well, not since his first night on the job, the very same night the Dark Lord and his dogs had invaded the Department of Mysteries. For some reason the thought sent goosebumps up his arms. Then a chill up his spine. Hawke raised an eyebrow, the sudden drop in temperature having nothing to do with his thoughts of dark wizards. He wasn't alone up here.<br/><br/>The blond was on high alert as he skirted every corner, eyes peeled for the drifting tatters of dementors' robes. However, as he neared the Invisibility Task Force, his ears picked up the unexpected sound of footsteps. Deciding it best to lay low, he followed the light stride, barely catching sight of a quick figure as someone ducked into one of the offices. There was no reason for any Ministry employee to be sneaking around up here. And that's certainly what this individual seemed to be doing. Magically muffling the sounds of his own gait, Hawke plastered himself outside the office, ears straining as he heard someone speaking softly to themselves. Or to someone else?<br/><br/>Before he could really contemplate the drawbacks of being potentially outnumbered, however, the alarming sound of screams echoed through the empty hallways. Many thoughts went through his head at once, such as the fact that whoever was inside the Invisibility Task Force was likely to find him soon if they followed the blood-curdling sounds to their origin. And second, someone was in obvious need of help . . . the sheer terror in that voice sending ice through Hawke's veins. But there was no question to be had as he abandoned his pursuit and wheeled toward the screams instead, following them to the Obliviator's Headquarters. It just wasn't in his nature to ignore such obvious desperation.<br/><br/>Skidding into the doorway, he paused at the scene before him. No matter how many times he witnessed it, the sight of a dementor's empty maw swallowing the essence of a living being would never cease to make him sick. With a sense of urgency filling him with adrenaline, he barely had to think about the spell.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> "Expecto patronum!"</span>His cougar lunged forward, lighting the darkened office with a defiant snarl as it tackled the dementor away from its motionless victim. The ice melted from the glass display case and the lights flickered back to life, but Hawke cared not for those things as he crouched over the unconscious man on the floor. He didn't recognize him, but then again Hawke barely knew the employees of any other department. Not to mention . . . he thought perhaps he might remember a face like this one. With his patronus pacing quietly in the background, standing guard in the event of more dementors approaching, Hawke decided to play it safe and bind the stranger's hands and feet with strong ropes of magic. After all, they still had no suspects in today's attacks and the academy had taught him<i>something</i>. Confident this man was no longer a threat, Hawke moved to raise the left sleeve of his robe in order to check the strength of his pulse, but that somehow seemed too personal. Instead, he pressed his fingers to a cold neck.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"We almost didn't make it in time,"</span>he sighed to the cougar, again speaking to his patronus as if it were its own being. Next, he scanned the wizard for a wand, a quick spell . . . but raised an eyebrow as he found nothing. That left only one other way to identify this man.<br/><br/>He hovered his wand over the slowly rising chest.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> "Innervate," </span>his own magic flowed into the other, replacing the warmth the dementor had depleted. Knowing the man should awaken soon, Hawke sat back on his haunches, giving him some space.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"Don't panic. You've been attacked by a dementor and have been magically bound for my protection," </span>he informed the man, eyeing the glowing strands immobilizing the other.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> "And this will go a lot smoother for both of us if you tell me your name and department . . . and maybe explain why you didn't evacuate with everyone else?"</span>Indeed, he almost felt sorry for this man, getting caught wandless in a maze of dementors and now tied up like a criminal, but Hawke had to follow protocol. Still...he suspiciously eyed the mess of documents strewn across the floor. This man had certainly been up to something.