Just as she was about to make a break for it down the hall, Neville ran forward. Voldemort stunned him backward with a bang.

All attention on Neville, and Hermione made her escape.

She tucked herself back into the crowd, tracking the silky blonde hair as it swayed through the Death Eaters to the side door. Hermione watched the door close behind Narcissa.

Screaming from behind her. She hated that she could identify the sound of Neville's crying. Her own memories wrapping around the familiar rhythm of Bellatrix's cackle.

Hermione slipped into the empty Entrance Hall, and looked into the void of white sheets in the Great Hall. Madame Pomfrey looked up at her, the only living soul amongst the bodies.

"What's happening out there, Granger?" Her voice shook.

"Harry is dead." She heard her voice leave her lips.

Pomfrey paled.

"I believe we are about to fight," she continued. She watched as the mediwitch's lips shivered.

Hermione blinked. And turned around, walking in the direction Narcissa Malfoy had slipped inside.

It must be shock. She let her mind turn this over—Harry was dead, and she was chasing Narcissa Malfoy around the empty castle.

Hermione turned down an empty corridor, rubble pushed into the corners. She'd never seen the castle this ghostly.

Dead.

Voices down a side hall. Hermione pressed herself against the wall, cold stones against her back, and peeked around the corner.

Two blond heads.

She snapped back, her skull hitting the wall behind her in her haste to hide. She pulled her eyes tight and listened through the pounding in her head.

"...time to go. We'll meet your father... to France with ..." Narcissa's quick whispering floated short phrases to her.

"I'm not leaving." Draco's voice was strong.

A soft warmth intruded Hermione's panic as she realized that Narcissa Malfoy had no master plan. She was simply risking her life to look for her son.

"Where are you going?"

"You didn't see her in the courtyard?"

"I was looking for you." Heavy footfalls. "Did you hear me?" Narcissa asked. "Potter is dead."

"Yes, I heard you." Draco's voice was closer. He was coming her way. Hermione darted back the way she came, finding a small broom closet to duck into.

She couldn't hear much more of what the Malfoys said over the sound of her heartbeat. Draco's quick legs carried him past her door, Narcissa right on his heels. Hermione peeked out of the closet, watching him walk away.

Things were about to get exponentially more difficult. She would have to return to the Entrance Hall now. She would have to take stock of who had survived while she'd run after the Malfoys, pretending it was for the cause. She would have to comfort Ginny and Ron, and attempt to let them comfort her – that is, if she could find them.

What if she'd missed it? Missed it all. What if she returned to the Entrance Hall and the bodies of her friends lay there, waiting for her to join them.