In one large gust of wind and the distinct whistle sound of brooms rushing past the death eaters heads, the recruits crowded in flight leaving in the direction for Hogwarts. Hermione was stood alongside Bellatrix and Fenrir and although she wore a slight smile, she felt her knees shaking slightly at the idea of potentially not just killing her disloyal friends, but professors she had previously been thought by. She wanted revenge, she craved the pain they would wear so obviously on their faces as they fall to their knees before her. Though she still carried some fear as to the war itself. Bellatrix put a hand on her shoulder, sensing her fear she meant to comfort her, but instead made her jump. "we have a good few minutes before we need to apperate," she spoke. "calm yourself, you shall need that energy to keep yourself on your feet, we can't have you dying on us". She smirked slightly, but waited until Hermione had taken a deep breath before removing her hand. Around her many death eaters were checking over their wands, tightening armour and making sure they were ready for the war to come. The only rule was to wear enough black that they could hide in the darkness of the woods should they need to fall back. Hermione had dressed herself with a black, short but loose skirt, tights, combat steel-toe boots, an elegant chest piece and long sleeved shirt covered with a robe and gloves with light gauntlets. The rest of the death eaters had a very similar attire and were to, camouflaged by the night.