"You do." Jo shook her head. "I can't promise entirely to be standing for mine, so you're first, because I might need you."

She looked at the room, the piles, him. Not him. Definitely not him when saying those words. Any words like those last ones. It was too much like looking at a blinding light. She'd been living a perfectly fine half-life before any part of him needed to go existing in her breathing space, again, and the more he kept existing the less it felt like there was any air for breathing. Or maybe it was the thing in her head, or the blood loss. She'd really rather take those over him.

"There was a ministry dinner. See article one," Jo says it mockingly, with a wave at the short white dress that used to look pristine and in one piece. No dirt, no blood, no rips. Though she'd probably mock it even if it hadn't gotten messed up. She hated playing babydoll for anyone. Even her bosses. Even only three or four times a year. "They like to call them mandatory occasionally.

Usually they are just boring, high-minded and even higher paid, wizards and witches, talking about even more boring topics than themselves."