Pansy couldn't remember such devotion for Voldemort. They had obeyed him, to be sure, but aside from Bellatrix, nobody had loved him like they did Draco. It was something that gnawed at her thoughts often. Draco was not kindly, he was cold and arrogant, entirely conscious of the power he held over people. He was akin to his former Master in the way that they were both monsters. No shame nor guilt ever crossed their minds. They craved destruction and power, and stopped at nothing to achieve it. No act was too heinous for them.