Suzanne started to rock herself and started to chant something. It sharply drew Robert's attention immediately. It had so much dark energy behind it, that it nearly made his hair stand on end. And he knew Suzanne's usual ineptitude with magic. This was not a spell she should tinker with, he was absolutely positive, especially when she mumbled Angus's name in the chant. This was old, dark magic, something he'd read in one of his thousands of books at one time or another. He wasn't sure why he remembered this random piece of trivia, but he was glad it came to mind. What he was sure about this dark spell was that this one had dire consequences for, potentially, hundreds of years to come. This dark chant was a spell. A powerful one.
He drew his wand swiftly, with a snap, and fired before she could get more than a few words out, and he fired as powerful a silencing spell as he had ever cast, causing her to loose her voice immediately.
"What did you do?" Jeffrey demanded, furious with Robert, feeling Robert's fierce actions looked very much like he had just attacked a patient.
"Be glad I did," Robert said, completely unapologetic, not taking his eyes off of Suzanne who was straining, trying desperately to get some sort of sound out to finish her spell. "That spell she was casting was an old dark arts generational killing curse. She was trying to put a generational curse on the entire Donohue family. She was intending to curse Angus so that he would die a miserable death of intense suffering and then so would every underage Donohue child die the exact same way thereafter. She was trying to commit murder right here in this room, right in front of our eyes. I silenced her so she couldn't finish the incantation. Did you not bind her magic?"
"I'm sure someone must have..."
"Damnit, I'll do it, then," Robert was beyond livid. It wasn't like Jeffrey's facility to make this sort of screw up, but he would remedy it himself. He used a nonverbal spell, and he worked carefully and quickly to create a binding spell that, unless someone was able to command more power than he had, the spell would hold in the long term. And then he fired it. He knew by the way she got weak and fell backwards on the bed that this drained all the magical energy out of her body. She was screeching as if she were suffering, and Robert knew that, first of all, she wasn't suffering. She was defeated, and her agony was about her disappointment that she was trapped here, in this place, without the least little bit of magic, and her murderous revenge was, at least for any foreseeable future had come to a humiliating and bitter end. She was seeing for herself that she had badly underestimated Robert Lupin, and she was realizing for the very first time that when he took on a contest, he did it in a way that would guarantee him a win. She saw, for the very first time, that he was far more knowledgeable that she had realized. She had taken him for just a pitiful old man. Now she saw he was anything but. But she was now as helpless now as a squib, without even the slightest ability to utter even so much as a squeak. And he wasn't ever going to reverse it. Jeffrey checked her briefly and looked at Robert, not very happy that he had bound her with a long term spell, a spell that Jeffrey, for all his skills at rehabilitation and healing, had no idea how to undo.
"Did you have to..." Jeffrey began, watching Suzanne regain herself and sit back up.
"Yes," Robert said with a fierce, iron firmness. "She will not kill any more." He walked towards her and looked directly into her eyes. "Now, you listen to me, you nasty old bat, if you so much as twitch a finger in the direction of your five children or their families, I will be back here faster than you can possibly imagine, and I will bind you with a petrificus totalus and leave you that way, nothing more than a vegetable, stiff as a damned board, unable to so much as scratch your nose, for the rest of your miserable days. And if you want to see if I could actually manage it, then eff with me one more time and find out." She sprang up, intending to scratch his eyes out with her fingernails. He grasped her wrists and threw her back down onto the bed. "Behave yourself, you shrew. Your children are with me because they choose to be--all five of them. They're far better off with me, and I absolutely will protect them with every cell of my being. You really want to continue this contest with me?" She shook her head quickly. She was done. Still seething, he stepped away from her, now a defeated and a broken woman. And then, for the very first time in years and years, she began to cry, to honestly start to grieve for all the losses she'd had in the last two years. Now, Robert hoped, Jeffrey might be able to help her.
"I think we're done here, Jessie, unless you have anything you want to say to her," Robert said quietly. He did not enjoy the thought that he had had to utterly break her. He hated that he'd had to do it, but she had given him no choice He had spared her from the veil, but he had had to keep her from any more attacks, any more torture, and any more killing. Enough. He'd had enough of watching the Tylers and the Donohues suffer. Now, maybe he could help them heal.