It was oddly quiet down here, the air cool and prickly with moisture. Hermione could still hear the ferocious battle raging outside, but it was dim and dull and little more than background noise now. The cracks and bangs, the screams, the crashes of falling brickwork, it was all going on above her ... but Hermione felt somehow detached from it all. She was set to task, focused on a singular goal, one she felt was within her remit. Fighting and duelling was the domain of Harry, and Neville, even Angharad and Myfanwy.