Draco could see Weasley in his peripheral vision. He was still motionless, and no one was tending to him – the mission team too busy fighting for their own survival to see if Weasley was alive or not and get him out of here. His body was so still, and in the eerie light Draco couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not. He felt unease slither through him as he chanced a glimpse at Weasley’s body, and it wasn’t just for Hermione’s sake. Fuck. Draco didn’t want the Weasel to die. Now that was surreal. He pressed forward toward the wizard and Weasley’s prone body, some vague idea in his head of getting Weasley out.