If they thought Hogmead had been bad, they were sorely disappointed. Harry, Ron and Hermione crouched down and looked over one of the ridges at the school; they saw, to their dismay, that it was rammed with the shuffling dead. Worse was the fact that a lot of them were wearing the school uniform still. Hermione felt a lump form in her throat, the living dead down there had once been her friends, well, maybe not friends but they were certainly people she had known. They'd spent five years eating in the same hall, learning the same things and sleeping in the same rooms. How they were going to achieve their current task without feeling something was beyond her. Deep down, she knew that the blood of those victims down there would be on her hands before the day was ended. Knowing did not make the task any easier. For a moment, she wished that Severus was nearby, a squeeze of his hand would make the job a little easier to swallow. Dismissing the thought, she pushed him from her mind. She had coped well enough before he had joined them and she knew she had the courage to do so now.

Harry had paled a little as he scanned the landscape and Ron was shaking his head, "There're so many!" the redhead hissed under his breath. Hermione found herself nodding. "How are we going to get down there to even search for the fragments?"

"I don't think we can," Harry said. Even as they watched, more of the creatures were trying to cram into the area underneath the bridge. The place where Harry had snapped the wand was where they were the thickest. Hermione realised that they would be drawn to the magic that it was emanating, that in itself would cause a bigger problem. When they had it, the Restless would then be drawn to them. While they had it in their possession, they would never be safe. She voiced her thoughts and the boys nodded.

"What are we going to do then? Just give up?" Ron asked. Hermione shook her head.

"Of course not. We just need to plan this a little bit more than we thought."

"What else do we need?" Harry asked. Hermione sat back and let her mind drift back to what Severus had said the night before. The boys looked at her expectantly and she gave them both a tap on the arm.

"You have brains too!" she snapped. They had the courtesy to look a little sheepish at that. Then the real thinking began. The look on Ron's face was comical and had she not been trying so hard to recall what Severus had spoken of, she would have laughed.

"Something about a book," Ron said after a while. Hermione raised a brow and gave him a flat look.

"I think there are a lot of books left in his rooms, we need something more detailed than that." Hermione said.

"Least I'm trying!" he said. Hermione followed that comment with a short nod, he had a point after all and she couldn't really remember anything else either.

"We needed to summon Death," Harry said. There was a very clear focus in his voice that was unsettling and Hermione found her throat dry once more. There was something very sinister about the idea of summoning Death itself.

"Now why would we do that?" Ron asked. Hermione noticed that he had paled at the idea too.

"It made the Elder Wand," Harry said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "He made it for the brother who requested it after all. There is no human who will be able to fix this wand, no matter what spells we find in the school."

Hermione flopped down onto her bum, her back against a nearby tree and let out a deep sigh. Why wasn't anything ever easy? A deep, hollow feeling built within the pit of her stomach and she shook her head, "Nothing good can come from summoning Death," she muttered under her breath.

"Because the world is just right peachy at the moment," Ron hissed back at her. She opened her mouth to speak but the look on Harry's face silenced them both.

"It'll want something in return," Harry said slowly. He too let himself flop onto the cod wet ground and sighed. Ron looked more than a little confused at what Harry was suggesting but Hermione knew. There was no doubt in her mind what it would be that Death wanted in return for fixing the world. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, not wanting to deal with it just yet. She did not answer Ron's questioning look; nor did Harry.

"Come on, we need to get back to the others," he said after a long moment had passed. Hermione nodded.

"This is going to need all of us to complete," she said, "They need to know what we have seen and our thoughts on it," she said. Harry nodded mutely before struggling to his feet. Hermione followed, now aware that the ground had been wet when she sat down. She dusted the mud from her bum and was about to turn to follow the boys when she paused. The unmistakeable rambling moan of the Restless reached her; far closer than it had been moments ago.

Turning, she darted after her two companions, willing them to stop and listen for the moment. They looked confused but got the message the moment she pulled out her knife and gave them a pointed look. The followed her lead, removed their bladed weapons and listened. The moans grew steadily louder. Hermione could feel her heart hammering in her chest and her breathing picked up. Sweat leaked onto her palms and she adjusted her grip on her knife. What if these Restless were people she knew? Would that make it any harder? Would it…

Her thoughts were cut off as six of the things staggered through the undergrowth. Their mouths gaped open slackly, showing missing, broken teeth. The stench of being dead for five years was not lost on Hermione and she grimaced. Although she had smelled these creatures before, these ones were particularly ripe. One of them had gone over on its foot at some point and it shuffled along with an irregular gait. Another had an eye missing. A third had a particularly brutal looking wound to its right shoulder; one that would have rendered a human dead.

A quick scan of their faces told her that they were not anyone she had known. This stirred her to action. Bringing up her knife, she plunged it straight into the socket of no eye. The thing chattered its teeth together a couple of times before registering that it was no longer able to function. She yanked the blade back before turning on another one. The sound of blades being stabbed behind her told her that her back was being watched.

Ron grunted with the effort of thrusting his knife into the top of a skull. Harry kicked out at a fourth while she turned to the one with the gash. Its arms raised up, reaching to take her in its vile embrace. Her heart hammered as she brought her knife down. Hermione didn't quite reach the mark, hitting it in the neck rather than below the ear. At the same time, she stepped back, stumbled over a root and toppled to the ground.

The fall drove the wind from her lungs and her head hit the ground. Her vision swam. The weight of the dead creature landing on top of her forced her to focus on not getting bitten. Pushing her feet into the ground, she let out a squeal – which sounded more like a pathetic squeak and tried to shif the creature. Her knife was still in its neck and disgusting black goo oozed onto her skin. The creature snapped its teeth, pawed at her with its hands. She found purchase on its shoulder and heaved it away from her face. It was more than keen to try and get a mouthful of her and so it fought back. Unable to remove it completely, she forced it from her as best she could.

It was heavier than she was strong. The weight was on its side and slowly, despite her best efforts, she knew she was losing. Her heart hammered within her ribcage, her eyes widened but she refused to give in. To do so was to die a horrible death! She couldn't even see how the rest of the fight was going. She didn't know if the other two were alright. Sounds of them battling the Restless did reach her however and that was reassuring. There was a thud. A bang. The creature on top of her seemed to find purchase on the floor. The muscle in her left arm began to twitch and she lost ground.

Screwing her eyes shut, she screamed and gave a heave. As she forced the creature up, she heard a sickening pop, not too dissimilar to a melon being dropped. Wet, sticky liquid burst onto her face and she turned her head in disgust. Then the weight was gone. Instantly, she was on her feet. Opening her eyes, she saw the thing that had almost killed her with Harry's knife in its skull. She gave him a nod of thanks; there was no time for anything else. With the rest of the creatures dead on the floor, they turned and fled.

The moment the stopped running, the seriousness of the situation hit Hermione. She sagged against a nearby tree, and trembled. Her heart was still pounding from both the run and the adrenaline of the fight. She knew she had come very close to being one of them, or food at least and the more she thought about it, the worse she began to feel. The hard lump in her throat threatened to turn to tears when Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, "You're alright," he said softly. She looked up into his open, honest face and tried her best to smile.

"Thanks Harry," she managed to whisper. Ron appeared on her other side and gave her his lopsided smile. She returned it, though not quite as strongly as she normally did.

"You've got goo on you," he said handing her a slightly stained handkerchief. She let out a nervous giggle and took it from him. Wiping her face, she got to her feet again. Nodding at her friends, she realised how lucky she was to have them.

"We should go back," she managed to say, her voice betrayed her ordeal however and she cut off what else she was going to say. They both nodded at her, knowing they had a lot more work to do before the day was over.