Alastor was straining in concentration as chunks of the wall crashed to the ground but most of it was held up above the muggles. Dorcas caught sight of Gideon attending to the woman covered in blood. Edgar was casting a volley of defensive spells and Emmeline, who had previously just been escorted out was dueling with the black haired witch and the young blond wizard as if her magic depended on it. Their wands were a blur and she stood in between them, alternately mumbling, all of them sweating and bathed in streaks of different colored lights. Dorcas didn't have time to think about what Edgar might have said to her in that time. Dorcas was already running toward Alastor and the muggles.

Alastor felt his back heel lift with the floor to steady him and saw Dorcas kneeling under the weight of the wall encouraging the muggles out from under it. If Alastor had sent a charm of this size to keep the wall and ceiling up, it would have crushed some of these muggles with it. He was using all his concentration to hold up as many of these individual pieces up as possible. This was not a charm or spell in itself, it was in its purest form, magic. Magic that was called out of the body, usually, to defend itself, without thinking, without practice and Dorcas understood that. He wasn't using this magic to defend himself though and it would not be weaker for it but less intuitive. So it took this feeling and consciousness and all the blood in his body to keep the crumbling, heavy weight from falling.

The muggles weren't convinced. They didn't know what was going on. Within the several hours prior some of them had just stopped in to get a small withdrawal from the bank and they had alternately seen people disappear in front of them. A lightning storm started from a lone cloud hanging in the bank's ceiling, a man's ribs ripped out of his chest and then reset on top of the skin... This very woman had only recently been batting hunks of wall at another group of people who had tried to drown her earlier and then bat hunks of wall at her and then her walking in a column of air like a tornado that sent the debris spinning around her like a gown of dust was now telling them that everything would be alright and to please get out from under the awning of a blown down wall that seemed somehow safer even as it was falling apart in front of them than anything out from under it. Not a one of them moved.

Dorcas could not lasso all of them out, she would risk hitting Alastor and send the wall coming down on all of them. She couldn't help him hold it up that might disturb whatever he was doing to keep it up. She shook her head and crawled under with the muggles and they felt themselves pulled towards her. She inhaled and then exhaled deeply. A muggle closest to her closed her eyes and hung her head in resignation and hoped that whatever was about to happen wouldn't hurt much. Dorcas sent a booming spell against the wall, removed the piece of flooring behind Alastor's foot and launched him into the air just enough so that the group of muggles could tumble out below him and Alastor, mid air, sent down the shielding charm he couldn't have used to block the dust and debris of the wall from flaying into the room.

Some of the muggles regained their composure. They were in the middle of the room and made it for the door without prompting, leaping over the splinched woman and Gideon who still cast defensive spells, shielded by Edgar and Dorcas spells. Alastor was already back on his feet and fighting. The muggle woman made an earnest dash for the door seeing only the light of day in front of her framed by the door and she never felt anything like it. Something flew in front of her and she kept running. She was alive and whatever was going on, whatever it was she would make it out of the bank alive. Tears streaked down her face as she sped up spurned by her closeness to the door and, home free. She looked around her and there was a small crowd of muggles, other people from inside the bank.

"The door!", one hissed and she ducked away into a group of arms pulling her to the false safety of the wall. She knew that wall could come down as flimsy as tissue paper. That wall meant nothing but she crouched against it for the second, third, fifth time that day expecting it to remain steady and was held all over by arms of strangers. When the phantoms arrived her memory would be altered and parts of it erased. All of them. They would spend several days working on it. So great was the scope that the English Prime Minister and the Ministry debated if it wasn't worth it, in this case, to allow a breach in the Statute of Secrecy and just let the Phantoms do what they could and whoever remembered to be left but that would mean calling them off which would mean having to talk to them and they were left alone and they did their job as they always did.

The muggle woman stared out from the comfort of all the arms into a gauze and blur of the charm that still held. She flinched with the crowd when a crash of what sounded like glass rang out and the building trembled but she stared out still mesmerized by the soft blur of the world beyond the bank. While she did so a plume of smoke shot out from the door filling the space between the charm and a crowd of people exited. She could hear shouting and instructions and the sound of popping, popping, popping and she felt a hand and she felt the gravity shift around her pulling everything toward her belly button and she was no longer there to hear the popping sound of her apparating away too.