"No, not yet, I'm afraid." Hermione's heart sinks like lead, and she stares around the dim, filthy cell, tears welling up in her eyes as she thinks of spending another moment longer trapped down here, in the rubble and with the company of women that were more dead than alive. "I swear to Merlin, I tried to get away to the drop point, but fucking Crabbe and Goyle Sr were up my arse all week. I couldn't go anywhere without one of them trailing me." He stares down at his hands, mouth twisting with a bitter sort of sadness. "They've hated me ever since I...since things went south between Greg and Vincent and me."