Declan thought their group an odd mix. Several were of his own age, roughly - and female. He didn’t know what good they could do. Without magic, they were much weaker physically than the men. He knew they were useless at present, but he’d brought his wand and broomstick along anyhow. If he couldn’t fly, he could at least use it as a weapon... or to sweep... though it had been rather expensive for zucchini abuse.

He’d donned his dragonhide gloves and weatherproof quidditch robes, unsure of what exactly they would encounter. He’s received looks from the others. His ears had burned, but he refused to allow himself to think such outfitting foolish.

With his broomstick over his shoulder, he stood near the back of the group, impatiently waiting for the muggle to respond. Rather than wait, one of the girls stepped forward and knocked. Brilliant. He rolled his eyes inwardly and tightened his hold on his broomstick, just in case something flew out at them.