Somehow actually saying the words out loud were too painful. Of course she knew that Hannah was dead. It was an Unforgivable that took her down. Hermione had seen, and used, the same spell countless times in twenty years. There was no way to block it, no counter-curse, no hope once one was sent in someone's direction. Hannah didn't stand a chance. Antonin nodded. He couldn't trust himself to speak either. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes as they tried to compose themselves. Hermione wanted to cry. If she was alone, she might have even allowed herself to give over to the emotion. Antonin kept rubbing at his own eyes. The Rowles were practically family. He thought of Hannah like his younger sister. When he could trust himself again, he cleared his throat and took a deep breath.