He excused himself from the room long enough to send his brother an owl. Or whatever method of communication they used. Hermione wished she still had her enchanted galleon from her Dumbledore's Army days. That had been a sheer stroke of genius to invent those. It was a shame that none of her ideas in recent years came anywhere close to those. One of the side-effects of taking so many potions was loss of brain function. She hadn't lost her mind, but there were certainly days she didn't feel as sharp as she once did. Maybe some of that would come back eventually. She didn't hold out much hope.