Nothing.  She sent out a general plea for help, but again, nothing.  She fingered the mark on her wrist, willing her magic into it, feeling it tingle beneath her hand, but there was no way to know whether they had realized what it meant or that she was calling for help.  There was a flight of concrete stairs leading up to an old wooden door.  She tried the door but found it was locked tight.  She tried a wandless alohomora, but nothing happened.  Wherever here was, it seemed she was stuck here.