"Please! Please, Draco! I’m begging you please just kill me. Just kill me. Please." The words tumbled out of her in a rushing tumbling sob, putting every ounce of emotion that she had left into pleading with the boy she had always despised. Trying desperately to convince him to end her life. Even dazed and in agony as she was, Hermione could see the irony in it. Draco whimpered – actually whimpered, and stumbled back shaking his head, horror printed all over his face. Horrified by his utter inability to do anything of use, Hermione thought hazily. Because he looked as though he cared, in some sick, cowardly sort of way. He cared but he was too damn weak to do anything. She despised him. Coward.