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AN: Written for The Great Maze challenge on the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges Forum. My prompt was "You keep going, but stumble into a clearing with a large acromantula. Kill the beast or perish."
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Draco awoke feeling distinctly uncomfortable
His stomach was aching with his hunger, his back was sore, and he was lying on something hard and cold. Why wasn't he in his soft, comfortable bed in Malfoy Manner?
Then he remembered.
The battle.
Curses.
Bodies.
He sat bolt-upright, his eyes flying open, and discovered that he had been sleeping on the floor of the Great Hall. A few feet away lay his mother and father, fingers intertwined, still fast asleep. Throughout the rest of the room, dozens of people were asleep. He spotted Bill Weasley and his wife, Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley, and dozens more people he recognized. Everyone seemed to be holding hands with someone else: a friend, a family member, a loved one.
Quietly, Draco got to his feet and headed out of the castle. It was eerily silent. Apparently, everyone was still sleeping, taking advantage of the fact that they were finally safe.
As he crossed the dewy lawn, Draco wondered, briefly, what would happen next. For him, Azkaban seemed like a realistic option. But at that particular moment, he couldn't bring himself to care.
Once, he would have run far away, taken refuge somewhere safe, leaving everything behind him in order to save his own skin. Now, he just wanted someone to tell him what to do, where to go. If that meant Azkaban, so be it. At least in Azkaban he would know what to expect.
He had reached the forest. For a moment, he paused, but somehow it no longer seemed particularly frightening to him. He plunged into it, pushing through tree branches and hanging ivy, ignoring the path. Abruptly, he broke into a run, tearing through the brambles, not caring when they scratched his clothes and skin.
For a moment, it felt wonderful to simply run, his feet pounding on the ground, his heart racing. Then his foot caught on a root and he fell flat on his face. For a moment, he just lay there, breathing in the scent of the mossy ground.
A familiar clicking sound reached his ears.
With a yell of horror, he leapt to his feet.
A gigantic acromantula was towering over him.
Without hesitating, he pulled out his wand, pointed it, and shouted "Avada kedavra!"
The beast crumpled to the ground.
With a sigh of relief, Draco pocketed his wand and flopped down onto the ground, staring at the corpse.
He wondered when killing had become so easy.