"Shouldn't you be at the Seedy or shagging Will or something?" Tracey asked. Blinking made the blurriness swirl around the edges, so she tried not to do that too much. "You don't need to be here. I can take care of myself. Always have." Not truly always - she did remember being very young and Will making sure she was fed and bathed and got to primary school on time. But all that had ended when an owl came to her window with a letter in its claws signed by Minerva McGonagall.
"Did Vaine get out?" she asked suddenly. She had little true memory of anything past finding her friend on the edge of the ballroom floor. Everything after that felt like someone had taken her memories, put them in a Pensieve, added a liberal dose of LSD and hit the frappe button.