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Yellow light burst in front of her eyes, blinding her.

A spell zipped by her ear like a bullet, and the floor rattled below her feet. She ducked, her arms coming up over her ears, and then she was being dragged by an arm around her waist — slipping in her heels.

She jerked her head to where she'd just seen George, but there was no flash of orange hair.

"Granger!"

A hand on her shoulder shoved her into the wall, and she gasped as the couch behind her exploded in a spray of fluff and velvet.

Draco crouched, yanking her down next to him. His wand extended, his shoulders broadened in front of her. The castle trembled. The screaming pierced her eardrums, and her eyes flitted wildly.

The girl who'd been Splinched lay unmoving on the other side of the couches, trampled by heavy Death Eater boots.

Her mind reeled at a breakneck pace.

The Order was here. The True Order.

They were trying to take the girls out — and failing. Because of the tattoos.

Draco shot a Stunning Spell from his wand. She grabbed his wrist.

"Don't Stun them! They'll be taken prisoner—!"

"What, then?" he hissed. "Tickling Jinxes?"

Across the room, her eyes caught on a tall woman with tight braids and black combat clothes surveying the dead Carrow Girl. When the woman stood, Hermione saw she had no left arm.

Angelina Johnson.

She brought her fingers to her lips and whistled, setting Hermione's teeth on edge. Her voice was rough as she bellowed, "Plan B!"

The room seemed to reignite with curses as Angelina slashed her wand through the air, marking the Carrow Girl with a black "X." Adrian Pucey snuck around the couch just behind her, his wand drawn, holding Mortensen as a shield against his chest. Hermione gasped as Angelina whipped around and hit him squarely between the eyes with a Killing Curse. Before his body had hit the ground, she'd grabbed Mortensen's arm, sliced it off at the elbow, and summoned a button from her pocket.

Mortensen's screams abruptly halted as they disappeared in a spray of blood.

Hermione's chest seized as the wall behind her vibrated. Draco yanked her several meters away, crouching behind an overturned table as the room swelled with screams.

Portkeys.

Somehow, they'd made Portkeys that could penetrate the wards. And since Mortensen wasn't lying on the ground, Splinched… the Lots could escape without their arms.

Draco grabbed her knee and pointed his wand at her heels, transfiguring them into flats. His eyes were wide and frenzied as they flickered around the chaos. "We have to get to a fireplace."

He cast a basic Protection Charm around them, and they darted through the tattered furniture and splintered end tables, sprinting across the open spaces toward the side of the room with the booths. The smell of blood and smoke was thick in her nostrils, and she searched the room for George, but there were too many bodies — running, dying, screaming curses.