Wait. Had the hat not seen by now that patience was not something that Valerie Gray was in possession of at the moment? Worst was not knowing what exactly she was waiting for. Rolling her eyes and pushing herself up off the ground with both her hands now that the brooch was attached to the hat, the sixteen year old gripped her wand a bit more firmly and turned her eyes towards the door. Boxed in. She felt boxed in in this small kitchen space and rather than stand around doing nothing she would rather be moving. But just as she moved to take a step the jolt came and everything was spinning until she felt her back seemingly fall against a cushioned surface. The blow nearly knocked the wind out of her and her eyes flew open with a loud gasp (as though she had been holding her breath and lungs were begging for air).

And then she felt sick from the whiplash. A whiplash that she had not even begun to process and all she could see was white.

Suddenly rolling over onto her side, the Wampus’ shoulders heaved and her mouth became agape in an attempt to vomit. She could just barely hear the Ministry official’s greeting over her own wheezings and before she had the time to even offer them a sideways glare she was no longer dry vomiting. Discolored liquid spilled on to the floor and she moved to wipe her mouth with the sleeve covering the hand she had previously injured on broken glass. Only now there was no injury. “What the hell?” she groaned as she rolled a bit more onto her stomach. It felt as though she had taken a serious blow playing Quadpot. Like the Quod had exploded right in her hands and in her face.

Still feeling disoriented she sat up a bit more and looked at her hand confused. And then the words of the Ministry official crept into her ears and she was glaring at him. Her fist thrust out in his direction (assuming she was still clutching her wand which she was not as it was resting on the bedside table waiting for her to wake) with a threatening look in her eyes and tightly clenched jaw. Her grey eyes flickered towards the regurgitated liquid on the floor (what was that?) and then suddenly something clicked.

And then she was furious.

At least now she understood why she was able to ignore the deep cut in her hand since it had not been real. Although her hands did shove into the pockets of her pants for the vials only to find that they were empty. There was a mixed reaction to this: one being she was relieved that no rare ingredients had come to waste from the thrashings of the Whomping Willow but the other being upset because her efforts collecting were in vain.

She was even more done with the methods of manipulation this IMPS insisted upon utilizing (but perhaps not as done as she had been with the conclusion of the first task). She felt the fool right now and it was taking what little resolve she had left not to blow something up. The satisfaction she had felt doing so to the piano (in apparently a dream reality) was in need of an encore performance. Moaning and cursing as she slowly swung her legs around and planted them firmly on the ground (only offering the remaining competitors a cursory look over because she did not want to think about how she had once again been duped and in such a vulnerable state at that) she stood and pushed through the dizzy feeling that took hold. Her wand was snatched from the bedside table and then she left for the stands before she could do or say something that she would maybe regret.