A few hours later they’re back in London, in Grimmauld Place. It’s after dinner, everyone with anywhere to be tomorrow morning is gone to bed already, like Lupin or Tonks or the fighters. She doesn't know half their names, they're all Aurors or wizarding folk she never met before it all went to shit, and it seems a bit macabre to meet them now, just when they're likely to die in some unfair way. She doesn't know them, but you can recognise them by sight, by the rings under their eyes, and the heavy gait, maybe a limp, the way their eyes scan around corners. They always look on edge, like they're ready for a fight. She thanks Lupin for shielding Harry and Ron and all the kids, even if some of them hate it, and Hermione does at times too, when they are banished to their rooms. It feels like a punishment, but maybe it’s a gift.