"Actually, no. Been a bit busy making sure you didn't die." She ignored his tone, sarcastic and a little angry, and took a moment to look around the room, also avoiding looking at the body laying nearly at her feet. She made note of the various gouges and scorch marks that errant spells had left along the office walls, saw that the hearth of Hela's fireplace had been cracked and the light fixture in the center of the office was hanging precariously. Not quite trusting herself to walk just yet, Hermione pointed her wand at the fireplace, frowning as it gave her some difficulty, before with a sharp jolting movement with her hand, she closed the Floo. No need to run the risk of uninvited guests. Off to the side, Draco was hastily stuffing folder after folder into what had to have been a magically extended bag, as the files disappeared with ease inside the relatively small messenger bag he'd pulled from Merlin knows where. Hermione managed to shuffle forward, gritting her teeth against the pain in her ribs, her thigh, her hand, and her... everywhere at every exhale, and settled stiffly into one of the only remaining pieces of furniture in the room - a stiff backed, wooden visitor's chair.