Sprinting as fast as her short legs would carry her, the Hufflepuff tried in vain to catch up to Jack and Jake. Her robes had caught on the third floor's stairs, which were partially overgrown with roses, but she'd ripped it out and continued her journey upward.

Breathing heavily from exertion, wand in one hand and shield up, legs scratched and front covered in Jake's blood, the teenager took in the fourth floor's hallway with wide eyes. Everywhere there was rubble and in some places, smeared blood. Biting her lip, Wesley trudged on, stopping as she spotted the crab girl.

And then that one Hufflepuff. And then some other girl. And then...

"Oliver?" Wesley called out, forgetting all about Jake, and the curses, and concentrating to keep her shield up, and remembering just that Oliver was her friend.

And that she had broken her promise.

"O-oliverrrr! Oliver, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" the tiny third year cried out, running - stumbling - towards him.