Hermione's veins tingled with dread as she stared down at the Hogwarts Express, thinking of how majestic it used to seem to her. Full of promise and possibility. She'd met Ron and Harry for the first time on that train.

She'd met Draco on that train…though she couldn't be sure he remembered. He'd been quite rude to her when she asked about Neville's toad.

She blinked and shook her head, refocusing. It was September the first, and the Hogwarts Express was taking children back to school. The world had continued spinning, although darker than before.

"Is the Dark Lord still at the castle?"

Narcissa nodded slowly. "There are far fewer students arriving, so they're confining them to the towers and upper floors."

So any attack on Hogwarts would endanger the children inside. Hermione sighed, rubbing her brow. It must be a waking nightmare for returning students. How many of the old staff and teachers were dead? She worried for the poor house-elves in the kitchens, too, but they at least were unlikely to be killed. Servants were still necessary for the school to operate.

A memory sparked in her. Kreacher.

Hermione's eyes slid to Narcissa as she took delicate bites from her toast. Grimmauld Place had been a property of the Black family before it had passed to Harry.

"Narcissa, I hope you don't mind me asking…" Hermione cleared her throat. "But I wondered if you knew anything about the house-elf, Kreacher?"

Narcissa blinked, caught off guard. Then her lips pulled into a tight smile. "I seem to remember that he's a grumpy little thing. My sister used to chase him around when we would visit our cousins." She set her teacup down without a sound, and said, "Why? Has he been bothering you?"

"No. But I did see him last week." She fiddled with the napkin in her lap. "And I was just curious who his master is?"

Narcissa nodded. "Grimmauld Place is now in Draco's name," she said simply. "Once the dust settled at Hogwarts, I went to Gringotts and filed the paperwork. The property fell to the Black family, but as my eldest sister has no heirs, the estate passed to Draco, the only male heir in the Black line."

Hermione's mind spun on its axis. Grimmauld Place belonged to Draco. Kreacher belonged to Draco. Pansy must be hiding at Grimmauld Place. Her breath hitched — but still, something tugged at Hermione's mind.

Harry. Grimmauld Place had been his.

"And…and the goblins at Gringotts…" she stammered, searching for the right words. "How did they decide to strip Harry of the property?"

Narcissa tilted her head, brows knitting in confusion. "When Potter died without a will, the property was left ownerless. The goblins have magic tracking these things."

Hermione's face felt tight. Her skin was buzzing — she could hear it in her ears. If she hadn't already been sitting, she would have needed a chair.

The goblins at Gringotts — the most by-the-book species in the magical world — had approved paperwork declaring that the previous owner of Grimmauld Place was dead.