Watching as the other man slowly removed himself from the floor while grunting audibly, as if the simple action of standing took a great deal of physical effort, Hawke raised an eyebrow and glanced back towards the doorway, still very much aware that he and Arthur were not alone up here . . . but his job was to protect people and, currently, this wide-eyed intern needed to be protected.<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">One thing at a time . . . </span></i>Turning back to find the other man now eye-level, Hawke offered an apologetic grin.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> "Sorry about the restraints, by the way."</span>Except he wasn't, really. It was regrettable that he'd had to use them on someone like Arthur, but the man could have been anyone hiding up here. A thief, a spy, involved in the attacks. Even a Death Eater, for Merlin's sake.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"And I do insist,"</span>he pushed, almost convinced that this wizard wouldn't make it to the atrium without losing his soul.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"The likelihood of encountering two dementors in one day isn't unheard of,"</span>he laughed. If only Arthur had been down stairs an hour ago.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"In fact there were at least a dozen at the ceremony earlier and we weren't able to eliminate all of them. The rest dispersed throughout the ministry."</span>So no, he most certainly would not be leaving Mr. McClagin alone.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"I wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing I left you to fend for yourself up here without a wand,"</span>he joked. And while his tone held a hint of sarcasm, that hadn't been a lie. If he left Arthur alone and later learned that his lifeless shell had been discovered in the building, the guilt would eat him alive.<br/><br/>Turning to dispel his patronus with a lightly whispered<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> "Finite incantatem,"</span>Hawke's ears picked up a slight rustle from behind, only to find Arthur asking him yet another question and Hawke wondered briefly if he ever remained silent.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> "Yes . . . most newer aurors have no experience with Dementors, not since the Minister banished them for assisting Voldemort." </span>The name rolled off his tongue easily, Hawke not bothered by the mere mention of the Dark Lord. Now if the monster stood before him in all his horror, Hawke's courage might be singing a different tune. Stepping out into the hallway, Hawke could see that the coast was clear. For now.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"But I got used to them during the war . . . </span>" He trailed off.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"A disgusting weapon, really. Turning peoples' own lives against them." </span>That's exactly what they did. If a man had no terrible memories, Hawke imagined, then a dementor would have no ammunition. Likewise, if a man had no good memories, then a patronus would have nothing to feed off of.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> "Of course it helps if a wizard knows how to occlude his less than favorable experiences where a dementor can't get to them." </span>Admittedly, he was bragging just a little bit. His mentor had taught him that little trick, and it hadn't taken long for Hawke to quickly store away the majority of his father's existence within an untapped mental vault, leaving the wraiths with very little to work with.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"And we don't know who staged the attack," </span>he paused as he led the other wizard into the hallway, considering how much he should say. Then again, he didn't know much.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> "Many died this evening, an attempt on the Minister's life, I believe. But do I think these were his followers?" </span>He thought on it for a moment.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"No, their tactics were radically different. Death Eaters duel us head-on. Whoever did this created some sort of reanimated revenants to do the fighting for them. My guess would be they're small in number." </span>He wondered if maybe he'd said too much . . . but what would it hurt for harmless little Arthur to know of tonight's events?<br/><div style="text-align: center"><br/>
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</div></div><br/>Now they were moving through the Department of Invisibility, where earlier he'd heard hushed voices behind a closed door. Hawke held his wand at the ready, body language more guarded and likely unnoticeable to the untrained eye of an intern. For that he was grateful, as it wouldn't do to panic Arthur further. Eyeing the once-closed door apprehensively, Hawke would normally step inside and have a look around, but he couldn't with Arthur along for the ride. Compromising, he cast a small orb of blue light and sent it whizzing into the office.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"I thought I heard something,"</span>he lied. It could be heard darting about, searching nooks and crannies. If there was anyone alive through that door, the orb would turn red.<br/><br/>He released a breathe as the orb flitted back to him, as blue as before. So whoever it had been was now likely long gone. He dismissed the orb silently, motioning for Arthur to continue towards the lift. Stepping inside, Hawke was met with an awkward silence, interrupted only by the disembodied female voice, as he and Arthur were carried to the atrium...too slowly.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> "So, what is it you do here at the Ministry?"</span>He made a weak attempt at conversation, eyeing the other man now that they were both illuminated by the harsh lighting of the lift. It was a pity, he decided, that Arthur's personality fell short of what Hawke found attractive . . . because the rest of him was agreeable. If the intern had a spine, then perhaps Hawke would have offered to buy him a drink after this ordeal. He sighed, forcing himself to look away.<br/><br/>Finally the lift had reached the atrium, and as soon as the doors whooshed open, Hawke was met with a sight that made him smile.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"Theo!" </span>He immediately dropped all pretenses of being a hard-ass auror and practically ran off of the elevator, pulling his smaller brother into a tight hug, the intern forgotten for now. Normally he wouldn't display this kind of affection, but . .<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">. "I was so worried about you." </span>He didn't care what this scene might look like to Arthur. Theo was in once piece.