She was released that morning by her supervisor; Enid had been towards the end of a shift when they'd gotten called to the dragons, so she had now been working for around twenty-four hours. She was not sure that she wanted to leave — there was rescue work to be done, and injured coming in every moment — but she knew her supervisor was right. She could not do her best work if she was dead on her feet.

She was directed to evacuate through the library, so to the library she went — it was hard to remember that this was a place for reading when things were so clearly set-up for evacuation. Enid was heading towards the floo when she saw him and startled.

This was not how she wanted to be seen by Nigel Yarwood. She had other people's blood on her robes, her hair was a mess, and there were scrapes on her hands. But it had been a long day and a long night, and she smiled at him, soft and hopeful. He didn't seem injured, and neither was she. "Mr. Yarwood," Enid said, quiet — it was hard to speak loudly after so long awake. "Are you also heading home to the Glen?"