Chapter 8: Keep it Cool

In the aftermath of the rumble, the Phoenixes had fled in a dozen different directions. After searching for stragglers most the night, the gang finally regrouped in front of a garage devoted to Wizarding produce delivery trucks. Needless to say, everyone was pretty shaken, and turned to Neville, the gang's de facto leader.

"Did you see their faces?" asked Michael Corner.

"Whose?" asked Terry Boot.

"At the rumble. Harry and Draco," Michael said. "When they got…you know…"

The pondering was interrupted when Dean suddenly kicked a stray butterbeer can into a yardside fence, where it shattered. "Those bloody Dementors are gonna bloody pay for this! If they think that's a rumble, they ain't seen nothing yet! It's war now! We're gonna blast them to Kingdom Come!"

"No, don't!" pleaded Michael. "If we do, more of us will get offed! I don't wanna die!"

Dean whirled on him. "What are you, scared?"

"Hey, come on, Dean, Michael's right. Bugger off…"

"You bugger off!" Dean roared.

The sudden crash of a spell hitting the garage wall next to them made the boys look up.

"OI! D'ya have any idea what time it is? If you don't shove off, I'll hex the lot of you and call the Aurors!" called a voice from an upstairs apartment window.

"Hey I'll hex your turtle right off, pal!" Dean threatened, shaking his fist at the man. The window of the apartment slammed shut with a bang.

"You see? This is what I'm talking about, Dean! You never know when to quit! This kind of attitude is exactly what got us here- and you still are coming back for more!"

Dean drew his wand and pointed it at Terry. "You wanna run that by me again, Boot?"

"Gladly," said Terry, raising his own wand. "I'll just let my spells do the talking…you sadist!"

A crash could be heard as Dean threw a curse at Terry and missed; Terry responded in kind. Other Phoenixes drew their wands, shouting at each other; two factions had indeed formed. Suddenly, a blue energy field erupted between the rifts, knocking everyone to the ground.

Neville stood towering over them, his rage palpable on ever part of his face: 1. Because he couldn't believe his men were fighting each other, 2. Because he was enraged that Dean had dared to usurp his authority and 3. Because, deep down, he was just as angry as some of them about the rumble's outcome. He just knew better than to express the latter openly.

Hauling everyone to their feet, Neville pointed his wand at them threateningly and jerked it toward the garage door. Then, he turned and marched inside. His men followed him into the darkened space, protesting loudly.

They were permanently quelled when a light suddenly glared on them. Neville had turned on the headlights of one of the delivery trucks.

"You lot got enough sense left in ya to listen?" Neville asked. The others nodded slowly.

"Well, then, listen. If you all keep carrying on like this, we might get sent to Azkaban. If we go after the Dementors too soon, we'll definitely get sent to Azkaban. If we crack under questioning by the Aurors, we'll get arrested and tried…. And then we'll get sent to Azkaban."

"Your point?" asked Seamus, raising an eyebrow.

"My point is…play it cool. Anybody asks you what went on tonight, you know nothing. You do nothing, you say nothing. Just keep cool, and we'll be alright."

Everyone needed various degrees of convincing, Dean especially, but soon the raw emotions had subsided and the Phoenixes soon left to deal with their grief another way. Go get a drink.