Zabini, I
Tracey was going to be sick, despite the calming draught she'd taken earlier. Nothing could have prepared her for this. She sat in the front row, the seats secured by the solicitor but she prayed that wasn't the best of his abilities for the day.
She watched Blaise enter and nearly choked out a sob at how he looked. Beaten. Vacant. The mantle he'd worn when he'd been released from Azkaban before. He would not survive again. The Ministry couldn't allow that. Clasping Millicent's hand tightly, she tried desperately to meet his gaze but he seemed to refuse her and it deadened her heart that she was already losing him. Blaise, if you can hear me. I love you. Our child needs you.