Fuck, he wanted to scream from the agony lancing through his body, teeth grinding audibly as he held in his cries. Draco couldn’t think straight, couldn’t see straight; he blocked spell after spell, forced onto the defensive, mind and body too jarred and damaged for him to have the necessary speed to launch an offensive. His limbs began to tremble from exhaustion, his hair still dripping water into his face from the flood of water Longbottom had conjured to put out the incendio. Draco couldn’t get up from his twisted position slumped on the floor against the back of the couch while the wizard was unleashing his barrage of spells, and the agony in Draco’s trapped leg was eating him alive. His back felt like it was broken.