She'd flinched on reflex, curling away from her brother in shock. For a split second fear shot through her as he dug for his wand unable to rationalize this translucent, aggressive version of Victor with her annoyingly calm, unruffable Victor. What would he do when he found his wand? Was he mad at her? Angry? She had just... killed him. She supposed it would be understandable if he was angry at her even if she really really hadn't meant to do it. Would he turn on her when he found his wand? She had no means of defence of her own not when tonight had been no different from her normal habit or not bringing her wand along to parties and it was, instead, in her room. Could ghost even use wands?

No.

He'd found his wand and nothing was happening. Bea felt a wave of guilt at her own relief as she scrambled up, backing up the stairs too uneasy to turn her back to the ghost just yet. When she hit the top of the stairs Beatrice whipped around and staggard down the hall to seek out Jasper as told though her vision was warped by the tears.