They Were Expendable

All is fair in love and war

It's finally the end of a long and bloody war. Five fucking years. The Wizarding World is finally righted-- Voldemort has proven that he is supreme. And I-- I have proven myself worthy in his eyes. I have killed many to prove my worthiness. They were expendable.

First, there were Muggles. Nameless, disgusting Muggles that had no fucking right to defile this earth.

They were expendable.

Then there were the Mudbloods. I even knew a few of them, as disgusted as I am to say-- old schoolmates, of course. Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Creevey brothers, those annoying, squeaky, little idiots, and last, but certainly not the least, that Mudblood bitch, Hermione Granger. It was pure pleasure to watch her scream and cry and beg while I tortured her under the Cruciatus Curse, to watch her disgusting Mudblood body writhe and twist unnaturally on the floor as the side of her mouth trickled with blood. It was even better to watch her face light green as she died. After all those years of being bested by a filthy Mudblood, of my father looking down on me with distaste at being second top instead of top, I finally had my sweet revenge.

They were expendable.

Next were the Weasels. First went the Weaslette. I had almost as much fun watching her being tortured than I did Granger. Almost. She died after watching her twin brothers being tortured. Then they too, followed down her path. After them, I killed their blood traitor parents. It gave my father such a joy to watch his son kill that Muggle-loving fool, Arthur Weasley. he actually told me for the first time in my life that he was proud of me. I was, too. After that, we found the older two of the Weasley brothers, and before they saw the green light, they saw the corpses of their family. The last Weasley, for Percy had decided to join our side long ago, was the Weasel King himself. Well, that was pure joy. I tortured him for hours, longer than Granger, even, before I killed him, grinning the entire time. He did look beautiful being tortured. Granger was just...fun. But Weasley, he was beautiful. The blood matched his hair perfectly. I shall always remember it.

They were expendable.

The last death was the most memorable, however...Harry Potter. Ah...The-Boy-Who-Lived-Who-Died-By-Draco-Malfoy's-Hand. It has a ring to it. I remember it like it was yesterday. I imagine he was quite delirious with rage by the time we met on the battlefield. After all, I made sure he knew it was I that had killed his loved ones.

He did look a sight, there on that field; hair unkempt as ever, green eyes flashing with fury, and his mouth twisted into a snarl...captivating.

We dueled for ages. Curse after curse set sail through the air, two nimble bodies, honed by the Seeker position on our House teams, dodged them with effortless grace-- time stopped for two creatures locked in a fierce, emotion-filled battle.

Finally, he was too slow, and he flew backwards as my curse caught him. His arm hit a rock with a sickening crack, and I knew it was broken. I cast the Cruciatus Curse, and he thrashed about, screaming in agony. I grinned-- a feral grin-- and ended the curse.

Potter collapsed onto the ground, panting harshly and cradling his injured arm. He looked up at me and his green eyes were blank, devoid of any emotion whatsoever.

"So now you meet your end, Potter," I spat. "I said I'd have you, and now I will."

Potter turned and coughed up blood, then returned that detached gaze back to mine.

"You already had me, Malfoy. You always did. And you always will."

The green light made his eyes look alive again.

He was expendable....

Wasn't he?