When he was done, Draco settled for stunning the Slytherin to shut up his pathetic begging whimpers. He felt empty, all of his rage taken out on the Slytherin in front of him, and the rest of his emotions apparently unprepared to take its place. He found himself sat on the floor in the corridor staring at Crabbe’s unconscious body, wondering if regret or remorse would turn their heads at any point. They never did.