She runs through the corridors, triaging as she goes.
"Take him to the Great Hall."
"Don't move her!"
"...I'm sorry."
Spells fly, dust obscures her vision, and-bam-she's tackled to the ground-curse just missing her.
"Careful, little moon."
"...dad?" She whispers, shocked.
Her father nods, gaze trained on his opponents. "They know you heal, and aim to take you out." He smirks. "They will not get the chance."
Familial magic washes over her and, finally, she feels safe.
Then a stray thought crossed her mind, and she cursed.
"Point Me, Cedric Diggory."
He was late.