She knew the spell was a mistake as soon as it left her wand, was the thing. But if it worked - if it hit - it would be worth it, because then Jo would be unconscious and unable to cause any damage to herself, and she could deal with the rest of it later. But the red light of the spell missed, striking the wall behind Jo instead, and then Jo was seething at her.

Until Alfred spoke, Zelda was really thinking about firing another stunning spell - a silent one, maybe, actually aimed at the center of Jo's mess. If Jo wasn't drawing a wand, then Zelda was sure she could outcast her - she could prevent her from leaving if she wanted to, never mind innocent civilian, never mind Jo hating her (Zelda still felt that she already did.) She'd already tried once, what did it matter if she tried again?

Alfred's voice punctured the little balloon of rising impulsivity.

She could be fired for this, if it got out. Zelda didn't think Brownhill liked her, and maybe Urquart did, or maybe her connection to the Minister would help, but she could be fired for this, it was probably illegal, and she should not have done it. And - well, it hadn't even worked. And maybe Alfred was right. She couldn't save Jo from the consequences if she wanted to go outside; she could just put them off. Let her go.

She stepped back into the flat, staring at Jo but guided by Alfred's hand on her arm, a little shellshocked, with her wand still gripped tight in her right hand. Because what the fuck had she tried to do?

And how was she going to explain any of this to Delight?

---