“Ace! There’s a good boy,” Hadrian cooed, ending the disillusionment charm on himself so the Irish setter was not confused by being borne down upon by seemingly nothing. Hadrian embraced him, giving him a good scratch all over – but, much as he could have fussed over him all day, time was probably of the essence here. So, with Ace sniffing at his side now of his own free will, Hadrian cast Accio again – this time for Boone.

He saw the brown labrador coming, skittering along through the air, except – there were two figures galloping along behind him. Hadrian squinted. One was a dog; the other was decidedly human. Decidedly Delia. Ah, blast. “C’mon, boy,” Hadrian said, because he had not gotten so far as planning for this, and fleeing seemed the first best option. He turned tail and ran back towards the trees, Ace overtaking him, and Hadrian let out a joyous yelp of triumph (part-triumph, anyway) as they increased their lead.

Only he had forgotten about the Accio, and hadn’t glanced over his shoulder for a moment to see Boone coming, until the floating, sopping wet dog had barrelled into the square of his back at enough force to bowl him over. Hadrian was thrust forwards into the grass, pinned down by four wet paws and an enthused round of barking. Hm. A subtle escape, this was not.

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