Draco stood before the team he’d come to trust, hoping with all his might that his new instincts were dead wrong.

Warrington tipped his chair back casually, his usual menace for once held back. “What’s this about? We should be scrimmaging by now.”

Draco glared. He wasn’t making this any easier. “We have a mission.” Gasps echoed around the room. Warrington’s chair thumped back onto the ground. “Yaxley’s being moved from his holding cell for sentencing. Afterward, I’m assuming we’ll also be escorting him to Azkaban.”

Macnair snorted. “You never know, really. Could be escorting him back home, like they did for me. Big scary house arrest.”

Blaise tensed, ready to diffuse whatever cropped up. Luckily, the others simply laughed, and life continued on. Weasley looked uncomfortable off to the side, but that wasn’t anything new. So far so good.

“What’s the plan, boss?” Theo asked.

Draco shrugged. “We go escort him. There’s not much to plan, just don’t screw up.”

As one, the squad crammed into the small lift. Goyle shoved Nott Sr., unfortunately, into Weasley. Revolted, he shuddered away. Weasley stood stunned. Before Draco could react, Warrington of all people, stepped between the two of them. He even threw an apologetic smile Weasley’s way. Draco and Blaise shared a look of astonishment.

“So Ginny,” Daphne asked with impeccable timing, “have you ever captured any Dark Wizards? Or does Ron always get all the fun?”

Weasley nodded. “A few. Rowle was the main one, though. Chasing him took quite a while.”

Unease instantly settled. Rowle had played Quidditch with most of them at parties. If Draco wasn’t mistaken, the Notts had been instrumental in dragging that chase out. Wasn’t it their summer house in France that Rowle had finally been taken down in? Theo Nott Jr. glared openly at the Weasel now.

“This is our stop!” Blaise announced with as much cheer as he could muster.

They filed out without a word. Most glared daggers at the back of Weasley’s head. Draco sighed internally. It had been much easier with her riding on everyone else’s coattails. Her actual credentials taking down Dark Wizards weren't quite appreciated in the present company.

Bright lights illuminated the holding cells, leaving barely any shadows. Aurors stood guard intermittently along the walls. They cast suspicious looks at the approaching squad, many of whom those Aurors had expected to be guarding one day.

Farther down the hallway, and safely behind glass, a single figure stood gracefully. Yaxley leaned forward, surveying the approaching Aurors with pleasure. “Well, well. To what do I owe this honor? So many familiar faces!”

Draco put on his sternest expression. “Yaxley! You are hereby being summoned for trial for the attempted murders of--!”

“Don’t bore me with the charges, boy. And here I thought this was a friendly visit.” With a predatory grin, he added, “Let’s see what surprises I have in store for me, hmm?”

No one moved to open the door. Preparing to do everything himself, Draco stepped forward.

Weasley put her hand on the latch, wand at the ready. “Wands on me, everyone. Blaise, at my word, cast the binding charm. Just on his upper body, mind you.” Blaise gave a nod. “One, two, three!” She flipped the latch, sliding the glass aside. “Now!” A faint purple glow surrounded Yaxley’s chest and arms, tethered back to Blaise’s wand.

“Reinforce the spell, everyone,” Draco added. Only Daphne, Goyle, and Theo bothered. A sinking feeling told Draco this didn’t bode well. Draco kept his own wand free, just in case. “Now move out.”

Weasley tossed him a look. “After we clear him of hexes, of course.”

“Yes, yes of course,” he agreed hastily. Yaxley smirked at Draco. Draco's recovery hadn't fooled the Death Eater for one second. And now he knew Draco's utter ineptitude as a Captain. Bloody perfect.

Weasley nodded. “All clear.”

"Move out," Draco commanded, not a moment too soon for his liking.

They crammed back into the lift. Weasley crushed herself against the wall, as far from Yaxley as possible. Warrington helpfully stood between them, though still not helping bind the Death Eater. Everyone pressed up against Yaxley, and once again Draco thought maybe there was a reason this job normally went to a maximum of three Aurors. They were practically an honor guard.

"How're the wife and kids?" Yaxley asked Nott Sr.

Nott Sr. smiled. "Wife died."

"And the kid is right here!" Theo added grumpily.

Yaxley turned to the Nott boy, his wolfish smile visibly shaking Nott Jr. "Is he now? And a spitting image of his father!" He leaned conspiratorially towards Nott Sr., not bothering to lower his voice. "I'll bet this wasn't what you meant when you thought he'd follow in your footsteps."

Nott Sr. laughed lightly, surprisingly at ease with the imposing prisoner. "Yes, quite the contrary, actually." Yaxley laughed with him.

No one else joined in. Stony silence reigned as the lift jerked through the underground maze of the Ministry. Finally, it ground to a halt.

They stepped out into the dimly lit hallway. Draco exchanged a concerned look with Blaise. Nothing unusual so far. Unfortunately, that only meant they knew to bide their time. Draco wasn't optimistic enough to assume no one would try.

Slytherin Squad encircled Yaxley, escorting him down the long hall.

"Don't think I will forget this day, young Malfoy," Yaxley intoned imperiously, still looking straight ahead. "Or how easily you betray your own kind."

Draco clenched his jaw. "You have more to worry about than me, right now."

Yaxley turned, then. "Do I? I hear the Ministry no longer employs Dementors. What sting awaits me--boredom?" The predatory grin returned. "I think not."

"Keep moving, prisoner!" Weasley ordered with a tone that brooked no nonsense. Draco could have hugged her. He couldn't take many more of Yaxley's foreboding taunts.

Yaxley chuckled, but kept walking. "You think yourself so impervious, little runt, with your family's newfound fame."

Weasley laughed. "Oh no I don't. I'm looking at where feeling impervious lands you. And let me tell you, it's less than appealing."

Yaxley's grin didn't waver, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

They reached the end of the hall.  The Aurors on guard obligingly opened the thick doors as the squad stepped through, out under the piercing scrutiny of--

A piece of Draco died. Out under the scrutiny of hundreds. Up above them, Witches and wizards packed every available seat in the stands of the sentencing room. And every one of them stared down at their approaching prisoner. Apparently Yaxley hadn't made many friends during his stint at the Ministry.

Draco swallowed nervously. Sooner or later the multitude would realize who exactly escorted the hated prisoner, and how extremely ironic it was.

As they walked across the open circle of floor at the bottom, the whispers started. Thankfully, Draco was too far away to make them out, but he could imagine well enough. Memories of his trial in this very spot sprang to mind unbidden. The same bloodthirsty crowds had watched like sport, dismayed at the merciful sentencing.

Well-practiced masks hid his teammate’s emotions, but he knew they were remembering their own trials, under this same scrutiny. Thankfully, none of them had been as infamous as Yaxley.

The chair wrapped with chains loomed ahead of them. Designed so that steel bit into your arms, reminding you of your impending imprisonment as you tried to plead your innocence. Draco shivered at the memory. Yaxley approached it without concern, seating himself without complaint. As usual, the chains snaked over his arms and legs. Blaise and the others released the spell, and the squad took up their stations around Yaxley. They staggered positions, with every other Auror facing opposite directions. Half faced out towards the crowd, half watched the prisoner's every move. Draco watched Yaxley and the rest of Slytherin Squad anxiously. At his side where he could keep an eye on her, Weasley faced the crowd. Her eyes flicked restlessly, Auror-trained to spot the slightest anomaly.

The crowd finally felt secure enough to yell down their hatred at Yaxley. He made no response. Through everything, his unnerving smirk never wavered.

A gavel banged repeatedly. "Order!" Shacklebolt himself called, to Draco's great relief. "He is on trial for his crimes! His guilt is not yet determined!"

Draco caught Blaise’s eye. His friend watched Yaxley and the squad from across the other side of the semi-circle. Blaise shrugged nearly imperceptibly. Nothing yet.

Shacklebolt continued on to start the trial, but Draco tuned him out, slipping into the Auror zone. All movement was suspect, and his eyes tried to be everywhere at once.

Weasley, next to him still scanning the crowd, scowled fiercely. "I can't believe my whole family showed up."

He couldn't turn to look where she scowled, but trusted it was a funny sight. "They've come to watch the great sport of Death Eater trials? Better seats than a Quidditch match."

"I...may have forgotten to mention my new job assignment to them. On purpose."

Eyes still glued to Yaxley, Draco raised an eyebrow. "They thought you had this mission all by yourself? Coming to support you?"

"I'd hoped Hermione or Harry would have broken the news for me, but nope! They're all there, looking scandalized."

Despite himself, a chuckle escaped. "Sounds like the after party will be even more entertaining than the show."

"You have no idea," she muttered darkly.

Movement to the side yanked Weasley's attention from the crowd. "What's he doing?" she whispered urgently. "What's Goyle doing?"

Draco chanced a look. Goyle was doing exactly as Draco had told him--casting Alohamora repeatedly under his breath. "Let it go, Weasley, it's not what you think."

She twisted towards him in shocked anger. "Not what I--?!" And cut off abruptly. "Goyle's your bait. You think there's a traitor."

Internally surprised at how quickly she caught on, he nodded grimly. "Best I could come up with on short notice."

She immediately turned back to the crowd, typical Auror stance resumed. "Top suspects?" she whispered, scarily focused.

With no other options, Draco answered her honestly. "Macnair. He's always liked public spectacle. And you saw Nott Sr. in the lift."

"I'd be surprised if Nott would play his hand so openly."

He grimaced again. "I doubt he'd think that was open."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the realization dawn. The inevitable next question followed. "He expects the squad to help him?"

Draco let out a breath. "Not if we can stop him in time."

With a determined nod, she continued scrutinizing the crowd.

Draco couldn't let himself think about how much damning evidence he'd just given the Weasel. That was tomorrow's hurdle. Right now, he just needed to make it to tomorrow.

"And do you admit to falsely accusing Muggleborns of stealing magic from pure-bloods?" Shacklebolt asked the prisoner, looking down from atop his towering podium. "And punishing them accordingly?"

Yaxley's smile remained strong. "I admit to everything you think I did. Although I wouldn't say it was 'falsely'."

Macnair leaned forward, drawing Draco's attention. "What are you doing, you moron?" the mustached man whispered to Goyle, "Not yet!"

Draco's wand shot forward. "Expelliarmus." Macnair's wand flew to Draco. A long second passed while Macnair stared in shock, sizing up the situation.

Up above, Shacklebolt cried out as a Stunner hit him from behind. Macnair seized the distraction, snatching Goyle's wand. "Reducto!" he yelled. Yaxley's chains exploded, ripping free.

Pandemonium exploded in the stands. Cloaked figures ran amongst the spectators, firing curses indiscriminately. Draco couldn't tell how many. Too many.

In the confusion, Yaxley ran.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Draco cursed at his back. He dropped instantly.

"Get him!" Weasley yelled. "I'll cover you!" Light flashed as cloaked figures traded spells with the girl. Defiantly, she held her ground.

Macnair snarled over Yaxley's fallen form. "Expulso!"

Draco barely rolled in time.

Macnair grabbed Yaxley's arm, raising his wand in an all-too-familiar starting form for Apparition. "BLAISE! Wards! They’re Apparating!" Draco screamed with everything in him. No options left, he rushed the pair. "Confringo!"

Macnair blocked Draco’s blast, still holding Yaxley. "Crucio!"

The spell hit, the pain dropping Draco instantly. Every ounce of will in him fought to simply hold his wand.

Macnair smiled viciously. "Look how great the Captain is now. Destroyed by his own team."

Draco twisted in agony. He couldn't see Blaise, but most of the team barely bothered fighting back at all. Astoria pressed against the wall, maintaining a shield on herself. Warrington fought, surprisingly--

"Crucio."

Draco nearly blacked out. He screamed, muscles spasmed, flinging his wand Merlin knew where.

"Reducto!" someone behind him yelled. Macnair dodged, dropping the curse. Gasping, Draco rolled to his side, focusing on breathing. As he clutched his stomach, his fingers brushed something unexpected--Macnair's wand.

A gong sounded, loud and dissonant. Macnair grabbed Yaxley again, ready to Apparate. A puff of smoke issued from his wand, but nothing more. Still barely lucid, Draco smiled to himself. Good job, Blaise. He’d gotten the Anti-Apparition wards up in time. Having a Charms Expert came in extremely handy.

Fury contorted Macnair's face. "Drop Zabini!" he screeched, pointing at Blaise. "Drop him NOW!"

As one, the robed figures fired on his command. Blaise blocked the first jets of light. But two bolts slipped through, blasting him square in the chest. Blaise crumpled.

Holding Yaxley, Macnair raised his wand high and proud. With the last of his strength, Draco whispered a Strike Spell. His aim true, Yaxley's body flung out of Macnair's grasp. A surprised Macnair Apparated away empty-handed. Blood sprayed as he vanished. Draco hoped Macnair had splinched himself.

A vaguely familiar face rushed to him. "Malfoy! Malfoy, look at me! Are you hurt?" With blood matted across the side of her head, Weasley looked barely recognizable. She peered down at her captain with concern.

Coughing, Draco rolled to his knees. "I'm fine," he lied. "Help Blaise."

"Daphne Apparated him to St. Mungo’s. No one else is injured severely." She paused. "Can you stand?"

"Yes, I can bloody well stand," he snapped. Every muscle screamed in protest as he heaved to his feet.

Draco surveyed the trial. The chained chair smoldered, spots of fire flared amongst the panicking crowds, and his squad scattered aimlessly across the floor of the room. The Auror guards swarmed Yaxley's body, hauling him back to the cell.

"Astoria!" he yelled at the useless girl who dared call herself an Auror. "Get up there and put out those fires!"

She looked at her Captain in terror. With a shake of her head, she Disapparated.

Draco swore viciously. He couldn't see either Nott, and Goyle leaned heavily against the far wall. "Warrington! Where are you?"

The older blonde jogged over. "Right here, Captain."

"Put out the fires," Draco wheezed. Warrington nodded, Apparating up into the stands. Draco's ribs ached. Macnair must have hated him more than he'd imagined to make the spell so potent.

To complete his fantastic day, the last person in the world he wanted to see marched straight towards him, fury spotting his ugly freckled face. "The hell was that, Malfoy?!" Ron Weasley bellowed in Draco's face. "You call that an Auror squad?! You nearly killed my sister!"

"I call that a traitor," Draco snapped. "Look it up if you don't know the word."

More red splotches exploded across the Weasel King's face. "One traitor in a squad of ten! Ten pathetic excuses for Aurors, less than half of which even bothered to raise their wands!"

At his side, Ginny frowned. "Ron, stop it--"

Draco cut off his Lieutenant. "Where were you, oh Dark Wizard Catcher?" he sneered. "Too busy counting Slytherins to raise your own bloody wand?"

"I was stuck in the stands by your bloody Anti-Apparition spell!"

"My bloody Anti-Apparition spell is the only thing that kept Yaxley here!"

Ron turned apoplectic. "Good job keeping the Death Eater we'd already caught!"

"STOP IT! Both of you!" Ginny fiercely interrupted. "Ron, argue this tomorrow. It's not the time."

He turned his fury on his sister. "Ginny, you saw--"

"Tomorrow, Ron!" The blood dripping down the side of her head added to her ferocity. "Go home before I make you."

"No! He's a bloody--"

"Ronald Bilius Weasley," her voice became dangerously calm. "I am an Auror, and you are impeding my duty. Stand aside before I legally imprison you."

With a snarl and a pop, Ron Apparated away.

"Charming brother you have, really."

"Shut it, Malfoy." Something over his shoulder caught Ginny’s attention. Her ferocity melted. "Oh no. Brace yourself."

Draco didn't want to find out what could be worse than Death Eaters and an insane Weasley. Unfortunately, his wish went unanswered.

Reporters thronged around the Captain and Lieutenant, shoving Quick-Quotes-Quills in their faces, camera lights exploding everywhere. Draco winced, regretting every decision he'd ever made that even remotely led to this point in his life.

"We will take three questions and three questions only," Ginny offered magnanimously. Three too many for Draco's taste. "And the next person to flash a light in our battle-blinded eyes will be hexed." The reporters chuckled nervously, but no one challenged it. They could tell she wasn't kidding.

She pointed at a wizard in lime green robes. "Uh, I think I speak for all of us when I ask: what happened back there?"

Weasley turned expectantly towards Draco. He swore internally. Pain did not help his always-lacking eloquence. "We had a traitor. Walden Macnair tried to kill us and free Yaxley." They waited for more, but Draco wasn't about to utter a syllable more than necessary.

Fortunately, Weasley picked up the slack. "This is a first for Slytherin Squad, but unfortunately not for Aurors. The proper protocols are being carried out as we speak."

Were they? Draco couldn't remember issuing any orders to that effect. On second thought, he couldn't even remember the proper orders.

The lime green wizard continued. "Wasn't Walden Macnair previously sentenced--?"

"Next question," Weasley cut him off, pointing to a short witch.

The witch shifted her Quick-Quotes-Quill closer. "Ginevra Weasley, as one of the heroes of the Battle of Hogwarts, what brings you to this infamous team full of near-convicts and failed missions?"

Weasley raised an eyebrow. "Exactly what you said. The team needed diversity desperately, and as I am not a convict and rarely fail missions, I qualified. Last question." She pointed to a gangly wizard in the back.

He cleared his throat. "What do you and Auror Malfoy plan to do following this fiasco?"

Again, Weasley turned to him. He stared tight-lipped over the crowd. That was the question he kept asking himself, and he'd be damned if he had a decent answer.

With a barely audible sigh, Weasley faced the reporters herself. "We'd be lying if we said today wasn't a fiasco. But this team is far from done. They're a diamond in the rough, and Auror Malfoy and I are working on shaping them into something more."

He sensed a perfect publicity moment slipping by, and forced himself to say something. "It will take time and hard work, but I--we," he amended, "have complete faith that Slytherin Squad can pull through and become a fully functioning Auror team."

Weasley couldn't hide her wince as they walked away. Once the reporters were out of earshot, she added, "You just implied that they're not a functioning Auror team right now."

"Bugger it all," Draco swore, "anyone with two eyes can see that. Probably only takes one."

She thought it over. "Actually, that might be brilliantly perfect. Brutal honesty from the one they expect to lie about his darling squad." She grinned. "Good call."

Draco saw no need to correct her idea of his clever plot. Then he remembered. "I need to check on Blaise." He accioed his wand, the familiar hawthorn wood instantly calming him. He raised it to Apparate, but the violent shaking of his hand distracted him.

Weasley let out a sigh. "You fought well, Malfoy, but it's not smart after the Cruciatus. You'll splinch yourself."

"Do you have a better idea, Weasley?" he snapped. "My best friend could be dying."

"I was going to offer to Side-Along Apparate you. I don't think I'm as bad off." She stared levelly at him.

"Oh." He dropped his wand down, still staring at his shaking hand. "I--" The words hurt coming out, but luckily only his pride. "I would appreciate that."

She gave a quick nod. Grabbing his shoulder, they were off.

Witches and wizards streamed in and out of St. Mungo's Apparition point. Draco shoved his way through the crowd to the main desk. "Blaise Zabini," he asked desperately. "Which room is he in?"

The witch behind the desk forced a smile. "Just a moment." Lazily, she flicked through the parchments stacked on her desk. Draco drummed his fingers impatiently.

After what seemed a lifetime, she looked back up. "I'm sorry, we don't seem to have anyone here by that name." The task completed, she resumed her magazine.

Draco snarled. "You pathetic, worthless--"

"What about Auror Emergencies?" Ginny cut in. "Do you have any new arrivals there?"

The useless witch stared up at the ceiling, frowning in thought. "I think we did, rushed him off right quick. Might have been a--"

Weasley grabbed Draco's sleeve, tugging him away. "Come on, I know where that section is."

Two floors up and a whole wing over, she led them straight there. Other than the giant sign, Draco knew they were in the right place when he spotted Daphne slumped in a chair in the hallway.

She spotted them, jumping to her feet and running towards him. Daphne swung a fist at his head. He barely caught it.

"It was the Bone-Breaking Hex," she hissed, swinging again. Draco dodged. "Blaise got hit with the Bone," she punctuated each word with a swing, "Breaking. Hex. In the CHEST!" The last punch connected with Draco's face, knocking him back.

Face contorted in fury, she tried again. Draco caught her fist, not releasing it. Daphne swung with her left, but he caught that as well. She struggled vainly before collapsing against his chest, sobbing. Her fists thumped harmlessly against him. "Why, Draco?" was the only articulate thing she managed before collapsing into sobs again.

Slowly, Draco released her fists, wrapping his arms around her. "How bad?" he whispered hoarsely.

Daphne shook her head violently. "If I hadn't...if I'd been a moment later he'd be dead."

Not dead yet, Draco noted, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Daphne. I don't think I can ever repay you."

She looked up at him with eyes filled with hate. "Don't you dare cheapen it by trying."

Draco held her close for a long moment. It was rare indeed for him to find solace in personal contact. He let her go. "Can I see him?"

Daphne shook her head, frantically wiping the tears from her face. "He's resting. They have some intense potions at work right now."

With nothing else to say, Draco simply led her back over to the waiting chairs. Daphne leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. Draco didn’t mind much. He’d never had a sister, but he always imagined she’d be a lot like Daphne.

A minute later, Weasley returned. Draco hadn’t even noticed she’d left. Or remembered she’d come with, if he were being honest. With a small smile, she handed Daphne and him each a cup of tea. Draco instantly felt bad about forgetting her--the tea was delicious. She dropped into the chair on the other side of him.

“Helping the only way you knew how?” he asked lightly, taking a sip of his marvelous tea.

Weasley shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah. I don’t want to intrude. But I did manage to get this.” She handed him a sheet of paper filled with medical jargon. “I remembered that they disclose information to ranking officers.”

Draco’s heart clenched. This was Blaise’s form. He read it, horror growing at every line. “Every rib?” he asked in astonishment.

Weasley nodded. “Punctured all the surrounding organs with the bone shards.”

Daphne looked up at that. “They just told me it was bad,” she whispered.

“It is,” Draco replied. He and Daphne picked through every shred of information the report held.

 Awkwardly, Weasley got to her feet. “Umm, I’m going to head out. Unless you need anything?”

Daphne raised an eyebrow. “We can take care of ourselves, thanks,” she snapped.

The redhead threw her hands up. “Pardon me for asking! Just tell Blaise I said hi.” She Disapparated.

Draco looked down at the cup of delicious tea, sorely needed report, and realized he probably wouldn’t have even made it here without the Weasel. He shoved the guilt aside, and settled in for the long wait.

Ginny Apparated back to her flat, hoping to throw ice on her aching head and call it a night. Unfortunately, her family had other plans. Her small flat barely contained the sea of redheads.

Hermione immediately accosted her, forcing Ginny to hold still while she swept her with diagnostic spells. A tap of Hermione’s wand, and her head felt much better. “Well, the head wound wasn’t serious--” Hermione announced.

“I would have handled it if it were!” Ginny couldn’t help interjecting.

“--but it doesn’t seem to have knocked any sense into her.” Her best friend folded her arms in her best intimidating manner.

“Slytherins, Ginny?” Fred asked.

“They didn’t have any open jobs in the waste retrieval departments?” George added.

“What I want to know,” Mrs. Weasley fumed, “is how they think it’s safe to put my daughter in these ridiculously dangerous situations!”

“Because she’s an Auror,” Harry, Hermione, and Ginny responded with long-suffering patience. Every time, you’d think it was the first time Molly Weasley heard it.

The matron responded with finality, “Still! They shouldn’t be doing it.”

The group continued venting their opinions, more at each other by this point. Ginny locked eyes with Bill over the din. Apparently they’d thought it worth the trouble to call him in, which said something in and of itself. Charlie, Percy, and surprisingly, Ron, seemed to be missing. This suited Ginny just fine.

“I’m sorry,” she finally intruded. Thankfully, they fell quiet. “But I didn’t really ask for an intervention right now. And, as you might have noticed, I’ve had a rather long day. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to go to sleep, like I’d planned.” She headed for her room. “Goodnight!”

“Ginny,” Harry grabbed her arm as she passed. “Please don’t feel like you’re forced to do this. I can get you a position in any of the other squads. Literally any of them, Ginny.”

Hermione nodded agreement. “Shacklebolt kept the whole thing under wraps, some sort of secret project. Silly me, stupid enough to let him!” She sent a reassuring smile Ginny’s way. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll clear it all up tomorrow morning.”

Ginny clutched her head, the ache returning. “Just stop it!” she yelled. “I don’t need all of you interfering! I can fight my own bloody battles!” She turned to Harry and Hermione. “Everything just got a whole lot more complicated for me. The last thing I need is you two sticking your fingers in right now!”

“Ginny--” Hermione offered with a concerned face.

“No!” Ginny snapped. “Please, just leave! I don’t want to get mad at all of you, but I’m really not up for dealing with this right now!” She stomped into her room, slamming the door behind her. When she opened it again, her flat stood empty. For some reason, it made her sad.