Mikey spun his wand round in his hand again, scuffing the toe of one of his boots against the floor. The wall was cold where he was leaning against it but he'd been standing by the fire for so long earlier that it was nice to feel cold stone pressing into his shoulder blades.
He stared forward across the hall without really taking in what was going on around him. The children had all settled down for bed and their injured were under careful watch, so it was mostly just a waiting game. A frustrating waiting game that he was pretty loathe to play.
He clenched his fist tightly round his wand so he wouldn't be tempted to fidget with it any more. They were all tired and frustrated and feeling stretched out. It wasn't fair to want to slip away and avoid the stress of everyone looking at everyone else wearily. Everybody wanted to get out those doors and go help in some undefined way; it didn't mean anyone actually got to.
Something rustled a few feet over and he turned to look at the little mass of sleeping bag and tousled hair shuffling on the floor. The children looked even smaller spread out over the great expanse of the hall floor and something inside him tugged guiltily. He lifted his gaze away and found himself looking one by one at the adult members of their rag tail group.
When he found Spencer staring straight back at him and gesturing to the side he nodded his head and pushed silently off the wall, heading over so they could talk.