Ron's lips pressed against her forehead protectively. "I won't let him touch you." It made the youngest male Weasley feel right for a change. It had been awhile since he felt like the hero, and this was the first time he was doing something without Hermione and Harry since the Gryffindors chanted "Weasley is our King" in his honor. The lift shuddered to a sudden stop, doors jerking open with an unusual squelch. They found themselves on the eighth floor and passed the now-rebuilt Fountain of Magical Brethren in the Atrium. They heard the unmistakable sounds of panic and screaming, but a lack of wand-fire. Probably for the best, lots of people trying to cast magic all in one place would cause a lot of accidents.