"Three!" The cry came and Hermione gulped. It didn’t take long to bleed out from a wound like an amputation, if one couldn’t conjure a tourniquet. From her quick head count of the Death Eaters as they had poured out of the house, three down meant four left. Four Death Eaters against the six of them – if you counted Creevy which Hermione hardly did. He shouldn’t even be here. North were yelling spells around her intermittently – whenever they got the chance to stick their heads up above the wall that provided at least some cover. Hermione took a breath to steady her nerves and in the rain-shattered glow the street lamps cast she could see South split into two groups, battling at either end of Trifle Lane, to keep it clear for North.