Nott, I
There wasn't a person in the whole room that wasn't staring at her. Millicent put her most indifferent face on, the one she hadn't really used since she was slamming students against walls and docking points from them in the name of the Inquistorial Squad. Her sister (oh God, Joy was going to kill her) called it her bitch face and told her to smile a little, the boys would maybe even find her almost pretty. It wasn't strictly normal to think about that right now, but what the hell was normal in this farce?
Nothing. Nothing was normal. One of her best friends was lying and pleading guilty to made up crimes, just to save another friend and then there was Tracey, caught between the two and everyone else standing helpless, just watching. And what had she done? She'd let some stupid bitch wind her up, when all she wanted to do was setting this whole fucking room on fire.
Really, where was Dingle when she needed him?
Millicent went with the hitwizard without saying a word. She was done talking. She was done doing anything more than sitting there, staring at the wall while her friends were sentenced to some arbitrary number of months or years in Azkaban. Well, at least she didn't have to see it happen.
As soon as the door slammed shut behind her she burst into tears.