But he was too slow. A gasp caught in his chest at the sight of the Dark Lord’s wand pointed directly at his chest. His open, unguarded chest. He should have pulled the sword back, he thought to himself bitterly. He should have pulled it back to thrust it deep into the Dark Lord’s heart - at least then he might have had the chance to spin away and dodge the spell that he knew would end his life. Still, he didn’t flinch. He didn’t hesitate. Even as he saw the man’s lips moving, he kept bringing the sword down. They would both die then, he thought resolutely. The sword’s path was assured now - the Dark Lord would die no matter what, and Draco suddenly understood how Harry had been so at peace with the idea of his own death so long as it resulted in the destruction of the monster in front of him as well.