A sense of inexplicable calm descended on her, it seemed, as the scene grew steadily more chaotic. It would not do for one to lose one's perception in the face of such chaos, really, though she had never had that problem; it seemed she was never quite as much in shape as she was when in a battle. And her opponent was skilled enough, if seemingly rather headstrong and riled up, to provide enough incentive for focus. She was aware, dimly, of the other people in the room caught in the fray, a flurry of voices and movement, flashes of light as curses exchanged sides, slamming into miscellaneous objects and each other, her own curses being deflected with fluid skill by the woman she faced. For it was woman, by the sound of her voice and certain physical attributes that Helena was not quite paying attention to at the given moment, even if she was masked. Probably rather young and impetuous, caught in the passion of her so-called cause. Really, it was almost admirable, for she was certainly not an opponent to take lightly.

Not that Mrs. Morgan was particularly apt to take anything lightly; if anything, her spell in St. Mungo's had left her with a fiercer sense of determination and perceptible lack of any sense of humour whatsoever. Though it made clear to her the nature of her attacker and consequentially the nature of the attack that would follow, to some extent. And she tightened her hold on her wand in anticipation.

"Deflagratio!"

Protego!
she deflected, her face remarkably calm, though the force of the spell, the darkness of its character did not go unfelt. It wasn't something Helena had actually heard before, though reason suggested that it would not be something she would particularly want to encounter. The stony, icy composure remained unwavering, though her eyes narrowed, as she countered the curse. "Praemo!" So basic, so crude in comparison to the hex she had deflected that had she been one for showing off and for partaking in the general battle of egoes that tended to accompany any battle, she would have felt vaguely embarrassed by it. As it was, she was not particularly concerned by matching the novelty and the extravagance of her slightly rash opponent, so much as she was concerned with bringing her in. For which, of course, one would have to first make her stop trying to curse Helena. To which end she had aimed; Praemo was rather basic and easily deflected. And a witch of the caliber of her adversary was not likely to really be thrown off by that.

Punctum! she followed up without gap or preamble, with ample force, aiming for the witch's wand arm. Needless to say she had not been thinking of asking nicely.
"Dog. A kind of additional or subsidiary deity designed to catch the overflow and surplus of the world's worship."
- Ambrose Pierce -