He was staring at Cecily, facedown and sprawled on the stairs above him. Wand in one hand, body twisted unnaturally. Dead. A stinging jinx, aimed at him. Something light enough not to incapacitate but strong enough to hurt, to knock him off balance. She'd... sacrificed herself. Had left the Chamber under pretenses of fetching whoever Hela had called for and waited until she'd had a clear shot at one of them, waited until the fighting had erupted. A sacrifice. Still rather confused about the timing of it, and what had caused that explosion, Draco faced forward, shifting so he was on his hands and knees, and crawled to the railing overlooking the foyer. What had once been a lovely space, a sort of calming space in the assassins" home, was now destroyed. A crater just in front of the stairs serving as epicenter for the thing that had exploded. Globs of what looked distressingly like human innards were blown backwards on the stairs, and fist-sized chunks of blood-red were scattered across the space. The floors were blackened, the air seemed to simmer with left-over heat, and Draco understood. The ruby had exploded when Cecily had attacked him. Adelaide, who had literally strapped it to herself, had been blown apart with the force of the magic escaping. Climbing to his feet unsteadily, Draco walked forward, almost stunned at how quickly things had just shifted. Hermione was safe. Her magic would return to her and she would get better. She would live. Now, he and the others needed to be sure she, and they, could be free.