The last thing Draco saw were Hermione’s eyes boring into his own. He’d seen the look of alarm in them, then quickly turned on his heel to face the wizard about to finish him off.
“Avada Ke-”
Malfoy pushed him down, hindering the muttering of the incantation. For a moment, he was overtaken with a pent up rage, seeing red and feeling the familiar throbbing of hatred in his head. He raised his wand, waved it, and said,
“CRUCIO!”
The wizard before him writhed on the ground like a snake, tortured screams escaping a small opening of his mouth. His eyes were squinted, and his face was turning red. He began to gasp for breath.
“P-p-p-p-please s-stop!” He managed through breaths.
Malfoy looked at the Death Eater in contempt, torturing him more with his cold, steely eyes.
The Death Eater twisted and turned, screaming himself hoarse, even though he could do nothing to rid himself of the pain. It was the first time in years that Malfoy’d felt so strongly about wanting to kill someone. He would have been frightened by this feeling if he wasn’t so controlled by his anger.
He glanced around, looking at the bodies of all the Death Eaters. None of them were dead, just paralyzed. He brought his attention back to the one before him. The man’s movements were growing feebler, and his cries reducing to a mere din.
“He-help, p-please…” The man choked on his whispers.
Malfoy looked down at him, any traces of who he’d changed into vanished. He had no mercy for him, especially after he’d nearly killed him. His lips curled into the familiar smirk, and he raised his wand.
“You should have thought about that before you tried to kill me. Avada K-!” He stopped himself.
Why was he stopping? He knew the curse – oh, how well he knew this curse. What was halting him? Was he a killer? Could he do it?
“What’s wrong with me?” He whispered to no one.
The pleading face of the man before him twisted into a satisfied grin. The Crutiatus curse was losing its effects, and the man seized the chance. He retrieved his wand and had it pointed at Draco in less than three seconds.
“You’re just as much of a coward as your father. You didn’t have the stomach to kill
Dumbledore, what makes you think you have the stomach to kill me?” He said, dropping the scared and shaking façade he’d managed to construct when Draco had cursed him.
He jabbed the wand into his throat, indenting it and making it hard for Draco to swallow.
“You have no idea, ” He said, circling around Draco tauntingly “of what I am capable of.”
The man moved closer to him until their noses were nearly touching.
“We could use someone like you. What do you say?”
He looked at Draco as if he were doing him a great favor, baring his grimy teeth in a sickening, contorted smile.
Draco felt the wand in his hand, swearing it was almost ten times as heavy as it had been before. He felt the familiar sensation of his heart thudding like a bass drum. He could hear Dumbledore’s words echoing in his ears.
“Draco, Draco, You are not a killer.”
Of course he’d resented it then. He was a scared sixteen year old with literally no other option. Even though it hadn’t been at his hand, he still heard the old man’s words lingering. He saw that Dumbledore was right.
“Like hell I would.” He muttered, reaching for his wand.
The next moment was a blur as both men casted curses, the sparks clashing and being flung like boomerangs all over the place. Malfoy dodged curse after curse, flashes of green light narrowly missing him by centimeters.
“Impedimenta!” He roared.
The man froze for a moment, unable to do anything. Malfoy took one last look into his eyes, seeing the hatred burn within them. He lingered not a moment longer and disapparated to the Ministry, feeling the sickening motion more so than usual.
