"Avada kedavra!" Draco’s face was hate – you had to hate, you had to want it, want them dead – and pain, so much pain and grief it was written in every feature, and he screamed the words so loudly, and Hermione’s eyes went to Blaise. The green flash hit him and his face was terribly, terribly sad as the light faded from his eyes and he fell. You have to mean it – the words echoed in Hermione’s head as she automatically sprang into action; no time to stop and think. She ran to her wand and scooped it up desperately and the comforting feel soaked into her very bones, power and magic leaching through her. A movement caught her eyes.