Red robes and wands that were fitted with a bright, orange grip. A glower on their faces. Boots tipped with cold, blessed iron. What Harri couldn’t see could be assumed. They likely held all manner of sharp implements, especially now that Harri and their little band of marauders had become well known for their desperate assaults. Melee instructed by the teachings of Fenrir Greyback. Knifework influenced by their lover, Bellatrix. Of course, Harri had filled in the rest. They hadn’t sat back on their laurels and let allies run the show; instead, trial and error had rounded out their abilities, as had Hermione’s ingenuity. Take away a witch or wizards main form of resistance, and suddenly they were all far less capable of protecting themselves.