“Expecto Patronum.” She said it firmly.
Nothing.
Not even a wisp of silver light.
She stared down at her wand.
Harry had taught her how to cast a patronus. Her otter.
As she stood there, she realised she'd probably never see it again. Her throat hurt from the effort it took not to cry.
Harry was dead. He was dead. There was nothing she could do to bring him back. Even in the magical world, calling back the dead was nothing more than fairytale.
Every happy memory she'd had was tainted, turned to ashes. Her past was an endless expanse of loss. Her childhood, with parents with new lives and new names and no recollection that they'd ever had a daughter they'd been proud of.
All her years at Hogwarts were defined by a war she'd now lost; by people she'd lost.
She gripped her wand until her knuckles turned white, and slowly lowered it, swallowing hard.
Don't think about it. Make it through the day. She had to get Ginny. She'd promised Harry she'd always take care of Ginny.
That was all she could focus on.
“I'll have to go to the safe houses in person,” she finally said after struggling for a moment to make her voice work. “My patronus spell doesn't seem work anymore.”
“No.”
She looked up, her jaw set. “I have to warn them, Draco. I'm not going to run without warning them. I have to go get Ginny. None of that is negotiable.”
Draco's eyes flickered. He looked down and gave sharp sigh, as though he were disappointed by something.
“Granger…” he said after hesitating for moment. “The Death Eaters have your prison. They have all the Order safe houses as well.”
The room tilted under Hermione's feet. She stumbled backwards and nearly fell. “What? Why didn't you tell me?”
She started towards the door, and Draco caught her by the arm and wrenched her back. When she tried to break away, he pinned her against the door, his expression furious. “This — this is why I wasn't going to tell you. You idiot, you'll throw yourself into a trap.”
She stared at him, and a cold sinking sensation came over her. Her fingers closed around his wrist as she stared at him, disbelieving. “You intercepted me and brought me here so I couldn't go back.”
Draco's expression was hard. “That wasn't the Dark Lord's entire army at Hogwarts. He's been concentrating the troops here for the last month. Once the reports regarding the attack at Hogwarts came in, it was clear your safe houses would be vulnerable. Where do you think the rest of the army was sent?”
Hermione felt devastation flood through her, as though she were bleeding to death from it. “You kept me here, unconscious, for hours.” Her voice was raw with grief and betrayal. “I could have gotten them out if you'd given me a chance.”
Draco's expression was cold and unapologetic. “You couldn't have saved them. You would have died or been captured along with everyone else.”
“Well, we won't know now, will we? Since you never gave me a chance—” Her voice broke.
His mouth twitched, and he looked away. His hand rested lightly on her shoulder. “I only had time to get you away. I left my post when I realised you were at Hogwarts, I didn't have enough time to do anything more.”
Her jaw kept trembling, and her chest was jerking as she tried to breathe and not cry. “I was going to get Ginny. I have to get her, that's not negotiable. I won't leave without her. She was in one of the most protected safe houses. They might not have broken in yet.”
Draco was unmoved.
“I won't leave without Ginny.” Her voice was hard, and she met his eyes. “You can't make me leave without her.”
His eyes flickered, and his fingers on her shoulder twitched. “Fine. We'll disillusion and check.”
Hermione swallowed and nodded.
She held Draco tightly as she side-along apparated him to a spot down the street from Grimmauld Place.
They were immediately struck by the sound of blaring sirens. The air was mangled with Dark Magic and the smell of burning. There were Muggle emergency vehicles filling the streets, their lights flashing.
Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was in ruins. The front of the house was split open, as though it had been bombed or pried apart. The houses adjoining it on each side were damaged and there were paramedics carrying bodies out. There were already dozens of bodies lined up in the street; pedestrians, the Resistance fighters who stood guard at Grimmauld Place, several nurses and healers who had been in the foyer as Hermione had left.
Part of magic over the house still held, the Muggle emergency responders would move towards Number Twelve then stop and turn away, as though they were aware of the house but the Muggle repelling charms prevented them from approaching it.
Before Draco could stop her or apparate them away, Hermione bolted, ducking under the caution tape and running towards the door. The steps were split and uneven, and she stumbled as she made her way up them.
She heard Draco swear as he chased her.
She flicked her wand, the spell blasted the remains of the door off its hinges and into the foyer. There was a thud and the sound of a falling body. Several deadly curses shot out from inside. Hermione dropped and rolled to the side.
“Morsmordre!” She heard Draco snap, and she watched as the Dark Mark slid through the opened door and filled the foyer.
He pulled off his disillusionment and stepped into Grimmauld Place. Hermione stayed frozen at the door. There were dozens of bodies on the floor; all the injured that had been sent from Hogwarts to Grimmauld Place.
“Beg pardon, sir, we thought it was Order members,” a lanky, vicious-faced man unfolded himself from the shadows at the sight of Draco.
“I gathered that,” Draco bit the words out; his expression was of cold fury. He turned to survey Grimmauld Place. “I want a report on the building.”
The man scratched his head with the tip of his wand. “We got a few dozen who fled from Hogwarts. Sent 'em all back.” His mouth twisted into a cruel, satisfied smile. Several more Death Eaters appeared, emerging from rooms further in the house. “Once the runners stop coming, we'll inventory the building.”
He kicked a hospital cot, and limp body fell off onto the floor. “When we finished with the ones outside, there was nothing much but the healers and near-dead. Finished off the dying and sent the prisoners to the Warden.” He rested his foot on the body and rocked it.
Draco stood expressionless.
“There's a war room we found upstairs after we swept the building.” The man gestured with his thumb. “Extra wards, took a bit of work to get in.”
“Show me,” Draco said.
They started up the stairs and were halfway up it when Draco suddenly whirled, his wand flashing. There were lights from a dozen rapid spells and the men surrounding him all froze for a moment before they dropped dead. Draco glanced back towards the door, and Hermione entered, stepping past the bodies, trying not to let herself look at any of them.
There was a tiny figure slumped at the foot of the stairs; Dobby's enormous blue eyes stared blankly where he lay fallen. Hermione looked away. The stairs rocked as she quickly ascended them, passing Draco, heading towards Ginny's room.
The door was blasted open, and Padma's body was fallen, facedown, across the doorway. A pool of black liquid was seeping out from what was left of her. Hermione's foot shook as she stepped over Padma's body and stared into the empty room.
“They must have taken her to Hogwarts,” her voice was shaking. “We — we'll have to get her out of Hogwarts.”
There was a gurgling sound behind her. Hermione turned sharply, wand drawn, and saw Padma move.
“Mione?” Padma shifted and lifted her head part-way up.
Hermione stared in horror and dropped her disillusionment. The curse Padma had been struck by was dissolving her. It was almost impossible that she was still alive.