"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. Get to the bloody turret. Get the fucking records. If any of those idiots die I'm going to be so fucking pissed..." he muttered to himself, pulling his wand. "Point me," he whispered, laying his wand flat on his palm. North was to his left. South would then be to the right. Draco strode as quickly as he dared to the right, through the maze-like halls, occasionally whispering "point me" at his wand as he went, head on a swivel for any unwelcome assassins. He was eventually confronted with a dead end, and a door. He opened it and was assaulted with the sounds of fighting, of curses flying and the stink of what he sincerely hoped was an animal of some kind, and not a person. He came into the Chamber just to the left of, and behind, the Seven's table, legs facing him, tabletop facing outwards. Iris and the Twins were nowhere to be seen, though from the sounds of it at least two of the Seven were still standing, still fighting. Hela and Sybille, most likely. For a moment, he hesitated. He could rejoin the fight, or he could go to Hela's office and get what they needed before returning, cutting off potential means of escape as he did so... It was his job. His duty. The promise he'd made to the others... but the fighting was still ferocious.