Chaos erupted across the Atrium.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the walls and floor from Oleandra's feet, the point where the blast had erupted through the lift area. The golden gate had been flung to the far end of the Atrium, and the arch above it was beginning to crumble, sending bricks, stone, and mortar dust cascading around her.
"Eadha!" Oleandra reflexively yelled, flinging her arms outwards to protect those behind her.
In ancient times, poplar and aspens were prized for their suitability in shield-making, valued for their lightness and ability to absorb shock. As opposed to Tinne, the holly rune of magical protection, Eadha was the Ogham rune of physical defence.
Oleandra's skin hardened like tree bark, barely feeling a thing as the stone debris rained down around her. According to Dumbledore's writings, the runes of the Earth and Moon had to be inscribed before their magic could be drawn forth, much as one must engrave the runes of the stars before using them… yet, as with star magic, it seemed Oleandra could simply bypass that step!
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Ms Ollivander snatched up a fallen wand and waved it, halting the ceiling from crashing down upon them. When the immediate danger had passed, Oleandra let her magic subside, feeling the limberness return to her limbs.
"Run!" Oleandra bellowed.
Oleandra's words snapped the Muggle-Born out of their stunned stupor, and they dashed after her, making a beeline for the fireplaces. Ms Ollivander waved her wand, letting the ceiling of the lift area crash down, momentarily cutting off the Ministry's upper floors' access to the Atrium as several lifts packed with Death Eaters arrived behind them.
"Quickly!" shouted Mai, her magically magnified voice reverberating over the panicked screams of the ministry workers running about like headless chickens. "Over here, before they—"
One by one, the flames in the fireplaces winked out as Oleandra and her group of trailing behind raced to find a fire from which to borrow the Floo Network. In their panic, a few of the Muggle-Born whose wands hadn't been confiscated turned on the spot and tried to Disapparate.
A handful of them succeeded, vanishing with loud pops. A few unlucky ones, however, were too unnerved to concentrate properly and ended up Splinching. Arms and legs came clean off, heads slid off necks, and one person's upper body vanished entirely, leaving behind their legs skittering in circles.
Of the original twenty of the second and third groups, there now remained only nine Muggle-Born. If the ten of the first group had made it out safely, Mai would only have nineteen Wizards and Witches at her disposal for her army.
"Leave them," said Mai coldly, as Oleandra bent over to scoop up the stray body parts. "We don't need cowards."
Oleandra straightened up, her gaze wandering over to the far end of the room, past the fireplaces and the decapitated statues. There was no point relighting the fireplaces, as they had undoubtedly been disconnected from the Floo Network already.
"We could use the visitor's entrance," she said, pointing. "Better than staying here."
"They might shut down that lift, just as they did the fireplaces," Mai said grimly. "And then we'll be stuck between a rock and a hard place."
It's not as if they had much of a choice.
Oleandra didn't think she could manage to teach the Tree-Portation dance to a gaggle of panicked Muggle-Born while under fire, much less wait another five minutes for the stars' magic to finally reach them underground. They had to risk it.
"Follow me!" Oleandra shouted, beckoning for everyone to follow her.
"This is a nightmare, isn't it?" Hitchens, the Muggle youth, said in a daze. "I must be dreaming."
Unfortunately for him, he was not dreaming. Mere days after discovering the existence of magic, the poor Londoner had already been swept into the adventure of a lifetime. In a daze, he followed the two girls leading the charge, ducking as magical bolts of light whizzed overhead.
"Uath!" roared Oleandra, pointing at the wizards before her, who were frantically hammering the button to summon the visitor-entrance lift.
The hawthorn's magic washed over them, turning their faces green and forcing them to clutch their stomachs and double over, as Oleandra's curse made them feel as though their bowels were on fire. With a flick of her wand, Mai sent the Ministry workers skidding aside in a slide of their own vomit.
"Using ancient magic, eh?" Mai remarked, muttering an incantation that conjured a silvery bubble around them. "As beings born of the land itself, telluric magic comes naturally to our kind… but personally, Morganna and I prefer wands. Nifty little things, and awfully convenient, they are."
An explosion rang out as, on the far side of the Atrium, black-robed Wizards stepped out of the lift area, having reduced the heap of collapsed rubble to dust. Spotting the escapees, they immediately ran towards them, flicking their wands and firing colourful rays of light that ricocheted off Mai's shield. The silver bubble trembled dangerously each time a curse struck it, yet it held firm.
"Tinne," whispered Oleandra, reinforcing Mai's spell with the holly tree's magic.
After what seemed an interminable stretch of time, a red telephone box descended from the ceiling. Oleandra darted inside, mashing every button she could reach, while Mai and the others squeezed in after her. The door snapped shut, and the phone box shuddered, before beginning its ascent, creaking loudly.
"Safe at last!"
The Muggle-Born collectively sighed in relief.
At least here, they thought to themselves, nobody would be able to shoot at them. But they had begun to relax too soon— not even ten seconds later, the telephone box ground to a halt. And with another shudder, it started downwards.
"Oh, no you don't!" snarled Ms Ollivander, brandishing her wand. "Alarte Ascendare!"
"Wingardium Leviosa!'
"Levioso!"
The few remaining who still had wands and had stayed with the group resorted to the levitating spells they knew best. The telephone box shuddered but otherwise continued its inexorable descent.
"A-ascendio!" stuttered one of the Muggle-Born.
"No, you fool!" exclaimed Ms Ollivander, but it was too late.
Magic swirled around the poor man's feet and launched him skywards. His head struck the ceiling of the telephone box with a loud crack as his own spell flung him upwards, and he came crashing back down atop the others, unconscious.
"Lend me your wand," said Mai, holding out her hand. "It's the only way!"
"It won't work for you," hissed Oleandra. "It hasn't chosen you!"
The Elder Wand only showed its true strength to those who had won it fair and square in a duel to the death. Only its true owner, Daphne, could draw out its full potential!
"I know, but Morganna died undefeated, so maybe it'll still work for her!" Mai growled. "Come on! I promise I'll return it to you when I'm done with it!"
A Fairy's word is their bond… but who could say precisely what Mai meant by, "when I'm done with it?" That period could stretch from a single minute to the rest of her life!
"Not good enough!" Oleandra hissed back. "Do you think I was born yesterday!? Make Morganna swear as well! And be precise with your wording!"
The Muggle-Born were far too preoccupied with lamenting their own misfortune to notice Oleandra and Mai hissing at each other under their breaths.
"Fine, then, I promise! We promise!" Mai said through gritted teeth. "One spell, and we'll give it back straight away! Within ten seconds!"
The bottom few inches of the telephone box were now visible to the Death Eaters below. They shot at it, setting it alight and filling it with holes, and Oleandra finally handed over the Elder Wand.
Mai took it in her hands, closing her eyes.
"Alarte Ascendare," Morgan le Fay spoke through Mai's lips, pointing the wand at the floor of the box.
The Death Eaters and Ministry workers below goggled, jaws agape, as the red telephone box engulfed in flames shot back up through the ceiling like a bullet, defying the powerful enchantments that should have bound it as though they were mere suggestions.