            Her eyes landed on the bed. It had been blown backwards, and Lucius with it. His eyes were shut, head slumped forward onto his chest. "No!" Hermione cried, stumbling forward, ankle catching on what she thought was a piece of ceiling fan. She hardly registered Sirius’s hands leaving her. It was just him, this godforsaken man who was supposed to help save the world. Who was more than that, even if she despised herself for it. Hermione cradled his face, examining him for damage. Finding none other than the old bruises, she breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing more than a strong stunner.