"Avada kedavra!" he was yelling and Hermione's gut lurched. She hated the sound of the Killing Curse. Hated it. What it meant for the enemy, and for the caster. And Draco didn't sound good either, from what she could make out. There was a slur to his voice, a wobbling, dragging, sound, and Hermione whimpered to herself, sticking her head out from behind the crates again and casting another stupefy and missing, her arm feeling funny, her eyes not focusing. She pressed her face against the corner of the crate, half her head sticking out as she tried to pull herself together, watching the fight with dazed eyes. One of Kiam's people cast a repulso that missed Ron, who it had been aimed for and struck a shelving unit of canisters behind him, and they went flying across the room, breaking open and more gas puffed into the air.