Thankfully, the kitchen didn't smell anymore. Hermione was forced to clean it about three times with spells most people hadn't even heard of before she could get rid of the odor, but a few days later and all was okay. Well, mostly okay. But it was only a jar of blood, right? Among other things. But still, a jar was a jar, even if it conveyed more than just itself. She was no stranger to the idea behind it though, and it hadn't shaken her as much as it had some people. It had been unpleasant, certainly, and she had worked to clean it up as soon as possible, but if they wanted to scare her then they hadn't quite succeeded.
Never sleeping well when Ron was away through the night, Hermione had been up early, and at a loss for anything else to do after the first few hours, she had begun to do the dishes from the night before. Halfway through, however, she moved into the living room as she heard him apparate in.
"What?"
It was her first instinctual response to his greeting. She hadn't even had her tea yet, and contrary to popular belief her brain didn't function at a high level all of the time. Mornings after little sleep were usually one such time when she wasn't at her best. After a moment or so to process what Ron had said, however, Hermione deduced that they equalled Death Eaters and got was something she didn't really want to think about.
Then there was something else she didn't want to think about, but there it was. The Head of the DMLE had the idea that the department was being targeted? Considering Ron was part of that department, the news was all the more displeasing.
"Is that all you know?" she asked, drying her hands on the tea towel she had inadvertently brought with her.