"I had to. I had to. I had to." He repeated it over and over as he stared at Hermione, at the child, face crumpling with guilt, body crumpling to the ground. On his knees as Hermione stared at him – accusing, horrified, hateful, frightened, the girl’s small form so slack and heavy in death. Still warm, but the vibrant energy of life was gone. Draco had taken that away. He had taken it away. Hermione wanted to tear him to shreds with her bare hands for what he had done. She stroked the girl’s hair, whispering pointless soothing words, tears like a flood, throat aching.