Elphais

His head was spinning as he leaned up against the wall. Things were going too fast; too unpredictable. True, he hadn't ever overly favored Slughorn, but he still had some level of respect for the man. The same fell to just about every person he was called upon to attack in this room. It was part of why he'd chosen to dive out of the main thrust of the attack.

Give himself just a moment to regroup; to remind himself that with each hex he threw, with each person he brought down, he was keeping Charlotte alive. It was a bitter pill.

Shoving himself, then, off the wall, he prepared himself to move back into the fray, his attention so focused on Slughorn that the first spell hit him before he could even see who threw it. His mouth opened, wand pointing and...he heard nothing come from his throat. In the next moment he was ready to assail McGonagall with a silent hex. He was too slow.

The red bolt hit him square in the chest and sheer horror - not for himself - froze on his face beneath the mask as he fell directly behind the masked Lucius.

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Leathan

Even as the rope hurtled across the space between him and the other, Leathan was preparing his next hex. Preparing to end this for once and all. But, before he could get his own words out, the man, once more, threw the Imperius at him. And this time, it held his mind in a grip far more seductive than the first two times; the need of the one throwing the curse always increasing the power of the curse.

He turned then, his wand once more bearing upon Dumbledore and this time he wasn't fighting it. Not enough to make a difference. Exhaustion fully rooted, he opened his mouth and snarled, "Purgatio!"

A dark green streak flew from Leathan's wand, the Auror's hazel eyes widening as his mind finally kicked back into place. Without so much as a thought, the man turned, his wand now pointing at the Death Eater who had worn him down to the point where he attacked the Headmaster.

Time, in that instant, became fully his, the air thickening. The sounds of voices and the twang of spells hitting shields and walls grew muffled. He felt himself separate from his own body and, from a new vantage point, watched as his arm and hand pointed directly at the other; watched as his mouth formed around words that he had never truly believed he could bring himself to use.

Each syllable took the time to cross his lips, the speed of sound fully in his own control. A green light - nothing more than a pinprick at first - grew and expanded as it reached the victim and still the words were forming; still the words were his own to hold and examine.

And then, as the last syllable left his mouth, as the green light exploded and seemed to engulf the entire of the know universe, time raced back into itself.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Even as the other landed on the floor with a dull thud, Leathan fell to his knees, his wand clattering to the floor. Horror etched his features as he realized, in full, what he had just accomplished; what he had just given into. His chest constricted, his palms coming to press hard to his forehead.

He knew he had, in that moment, both failed and succeeded.

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Dumbledore

Even as the Auror turned again to face him, Albus was ready; his shield came up not a second too late. By the time that Leathan had turned around to face his attacker, Dumbledore's wand was aimed at the ceiling, the screams of Helena reverberating through the room fueling the anger in the man to its fullest.

The flash of green hit his periperhal a moment later; that it was his own using the curse hadn't dawned on him as of yet. But enough was enough; he had no intention of letting this go further, even if it meant that his brother would lose a day of buisness to repair the damage to the roof of the establishment.

With a downward slash of his wand followed by a sideways flick, he roared out a spell. A flash of blinding light hit the ceiling, ripped straight through and met the grisly image of the skull and snake in the air before a glow started within the confines of the room.

"Enough!" he bellowed, his wand now pointing at the tallest of the group; the one he had pinpointed as the ringleader from the moment the quintet had appeared. If the masked Death Eater [Lucius] knew his spellwork as well as did Dumbledore, he would know that the use of even one more spell aimed in the intent of harming another would ignite the light spell and, without question, all in the room would be throughly trapped and frozen until help arrived.

Help that wouldn't bode well for the Death Eaters.