*** 5 – Unbelievable Actions ***

Liz looked around to reacquaint herself with her surroundings. She remembered this area of the school well, having been part of a memorial service for a fellow student out there. The tree that they had planted for this student was still standing nearby. She looked over at Blake, who had run past her and over to the sidewalk. She could see his mouth moving, yelling at her to get a move on, but her hearing was momentarily gone. Luckily, she still started to move, and eventually flew past him towards the small, two-floored strip plaza. She knew that all the shops were on the ground floor, and the owners lived on the second. She knew a few of them, and hoped that they would be in good spirits today.

She could see Blake out of the corner of her eye, running at full speed towards the construction site. She knew that he'd be able to lose himself easily in there. Knowing that he would be ok, she crossed the street towards the small plaza. The first place she thought of to hide was her favourite dry cleaning place. The owners, Mr. And Mrs. Smythe, were great friends with her mom, and had watched her a few times when she was a child. It was probably her best bet, and she could probably grab some clothes to wear while she was at it. Liz started really pushing her speed, as she ran along the front of the plaza. She could hear, in the distance, the faint sound of shouts coming from the school.

"Miss Liz!" she smiled and ran towards the familiar voice of Mrs. Smythe. She could always be counted on to be outside for a morning cigarette. Mrs. Smythe was also a very observant lady, and knew that something was wrong before Liz even got to her side. "Are you alright Miss Liz, you look afright."

"I've had a bit of trouble this morning Mrs. Smythe," Liz panted. "May I please use your phone?"

"Of course dear, right this way." Mrs. Smythe led her inside, and locked the door of the store behind her. She brought an exhausted Liz upstairs and gave her a glass of water to calm her nerves. "Now what's going on?"

"Honestly, I feel foolish about the whole thing," Liz started, preparing to tell one massive lie. "I was out with this guy last night, and he must have slipped something in my drink. I woke up this morning, in a strange house, and all my clothes were gone. I'm so scared of what he did. I know I should have called the police immediately, but I was afraid of what would happen if he came back. So I grabbed the first clothes I saw, and ran for it." Liz looked down at her wardrobe. "I guess he's a surgical assistant or something."

"Oh you poor thing!" Liz felt immensely guilty for lying to her dear friend, but she had no choice. The woman would never believe the truth. "I have some of your clothes here at the store, I can get them for you if you'd like something a little more comfortable." Liz couldn't have felt more guilty or grateful at the same time.

"Mrs. Smythe, I'm so sorry to come here like this. I really appreciate you taking me in. But I don't want you going downstairs right now. I think he may have followed me, and I don't want you to get caught in the middle."

"Don't worry dear, your clothes are in the back of the store. I won't even be near the front. If he has followed you, he won't see me, I assure you." Mrs. Smythe patted Liz's hand and walked down to the store. Liz stayed right where she was. She wanted to look outside and see where she could go from here, but she didn't want to take the risk. These people would be looking for her, and she couldn't risk getting caught. So she waited patiently for Mrs. Smythe to come back up with whatever clothes Liz had left with her.

"Here we go dear, freshly pressed and all." Liz looked up at the sound of Mrs. Smythe's voice. Her friend was presenting her with her favourite black dress pants, and a blue v-neck tank top. Not the best outfit for going on the run, but it was a welcome change from the white scrubs she was in. It would also be easier to blend into a crowd in these clothes. She quickly changed as Mrs. Smythe refilled her water glass.

Liz was just putting her hair back into a messy ponytail when she heard it: the distinct sound of glass breaking on the floor below her feet. They were looking for her, and they wouldn't stop until they found her. And she had put Mrs. Smythe in danger. She had to do something. Acting as quickly and as quietly as she could, she made her way to the kitchen, and whispered in Mrs. Smythe's ear. She felt the woman tense in panic, but she spoke softly and soothingly, telling her that she was going to help. Quickly, she urged Mrs. Smythe into the bathroom with her cordless phone, and pushed a kitchen chair under the doorknob. She didn't want these people to become violent with her elderly friend for helping, so she made it look like she hadn't had a choice.

Once Mrs. Smythe was secure in the bathroom, Liz moved swiftly to the open window in the bedroom. Grabbing a nail file she found on the dresser, she ripped into the mesh screen, tearing it enough for her hands to make the small hole bigger, big enough to slide through. She could hear footsteps on the stairs as she pulled herself up onto the dresser and halfway through the hole.

Without warning, the door burst open, and a tall, angry-looking man raced in brandishing a handgun. He looked towards the bathroom, where Mrs. Smythe was now banging on the door, trying to get out. His head whipped around and saw Liz trying to escape out the window. The gun swung in her direction, and she froze.

"It's over," he said to her, his voice full of rage. "You've got nowhere to go now."

"I'm not going back with you!" Liz shouted back.

"Look, you've got two options, and only one of them ends with you alive."

"You won't kill me. For some reason you need me. Why, I don't know, but you do."

"That's what you think," he said raising the gun higher. Liz paled when she realized that he was fully prepared to kill her. She was running out of options fast. "Last chance," he said.

Liz looked at her surroundings and couldn't seem to find a way out.

"1."

Mrs. Smythe kept screaming as loud as she could.

"2."

Liz prayed that Blake had managed to escape this fate.

"3."

This was it. Liz knew that she was out of time, so the only thing she could do was act on instinct. She closed her eyes and raised her hands in front of her in an attempt to save herself. Just as the gun was about to go off, she acted on impulse once more.

"Protego!" she shouted as loud as she could.

- BANG -

When the bullet didn't hit her, and she didn't hear it sail by her, Liz opened her eyes to see a remarkable sight in front of her.

She could still see the man who was trying to kill her, but his image was distorted. There was a clear barrier between the two of them, but she couldn't figure out what it was. But the bullets he was shooting at her seemed to bounce right off the barrier. She'd never seen anything like this before in her life. It was almost like a shield…

"Oh my …" she whispered as she let her guard down for a split second.

- BANG -

She had let her guard down a split second too early. The last bullet in his cartridge flew past the weakened barrier and struck Liz in the shoulder. She was thrown backwards and dangled half out the window. As she teetered on the brink of consciousness for the second time in one week, she faintly heard her attacker walking towards her, as well as three quiet yet distinct pops.

"Expelliarmus!" cried a female voice.

"Petrificus Totalus!" followed a young sounding male voice.

"Obliviate!" called out a tired male voice.

Liz couldn't see what happened because she lost consciousness after those three shouts. But she missed a truly remarkable sight as the gun flew out of her attacker's hand and over to the corner of the room. He then froze like a statue at the second shout, and then collapsed limply on the floor at the third.

Once they were sure that he wasn't getting up, they approached him, stepping out of the shadows of the apartment. The woman stared angrily at the man on the floor, causing her pink hair to flare an angry red. Next to her, the tired looking gentleman raised his kind eyes from the man on the floor to the young woman at the window. He moved quickly over to see to her as the young man stepped forward to help with the goon on the ground.

"He fell as hard as I hoped he would," whispered the young man.

"Blaise!" The woman was appalled. "We don't have time for that. We need to move quickly."

"She's right," said the man at the window. "Time's running much shorter than we thought." He gently lifted the girl down from the ledge, and the other two in the room gasped when they saw her.

"Oh no!" the woman cried out, running forward to smooth a stray curl from her forehead. "It can't be!"

"Damnit!" the younger male shouted, taking a kick at the dresser. "This is all my fault, I should have never let her go like that!"

"You couldn't have stopped this even if you had wanted to," the older man reminded them. "This had to happen."

"Will she be ok Remus?"

The man at the window turned to the pink-haired woman. "She'll be fine Dora, but we must move quickly. I'll take care of her. Blaise, you handle him, and Dora, you take the woman in the washroom."

The other two nodded and turned towards their charges, as the man holding the unconscious woman disappeared with another pop.