They were ten feet from the doors when they burst open. Draco turned into her, shoving her back against the wall and angling himself in front of her.

Dolohov and Yaxley stood one second in the doorway to take in the chaos before moving swiftly into offense, engaging a pair of True Order fighters.

Mulciber was close behind. Entering the Lounge with Cho, he looked around at the smoke and spells, the bloody bodies. He pulled his wand, his eyes wide, unsure where to start.

Hermione opened her lips to call out to Cho, to tell her to run with them. But a smile broke on her lips, splitting her face wide and filling her eyes with fire. Her gaze flitted around her, and Hermione saw the moment her eyes landed on an ornamental shield with crossed swords on the wall next to her.

She stared back in shock as Draco tugged her forward, shooting a Stunning Spell somewhere in front of them. Another spell spun from the back corner and she yanked them to the right, watching it just miss Draco's ear as he stumbled.

Cho dodged a curse sailing by, reaching up with nimble fingers and tugging at the coat of arms until a thick sword slid free from its decorative housing with a slice. A yelp escaped Hermione's lips as Cho hauled back and dug the sword through the middle of Mulciber's back. He gurgled a shout, crumpling to the ground.

Draco pulled her down the corridor, and Hermione whipped over her shoulder to watch Cho yank the sword from Mulciber's body with her heeled foot as leverage, before swinging heavily and lodging the old sword into his neck with a scream.

They flew into a small sitting room, and Draco clutched her to his chest as he summoned the Floo powder. He threw the powder in the fireplace and called out for the Manor.

The fire didn't burst. No green flames.

"Shit!" In the blink of an eye, he was seizing her by the elbow and taking her back out the door.

"Wait—!"

An orange light whizzed by Draco's ear, and Hermione screamed before she could stop herself. Someone in dark, scrappy clothes was firing at them.

Draco fought back with non-verbal jinxes, and the attacker fell back.

Stars bloomed behind her eyelids, her mind dizzy and spinning. She had to get him out.

He dragged her down a dark corridor, and through a series of twists and turns. They searched for fireplaces and found three burning in empty rooms, glasses full and cigars still smoking. All blocked.

Hermione's panic grew with every corner they turned. The True Order wouldn't hurt her. But Draco was running on borrowed time.

Another turn. She held her breath, praying the path would end soon — until he turned them into a dead end. And then another.

He was lost.

She tugged him to stop, her chest tight. "The walls are weakest at the windows. If the wards have been penetrated—"