Harry thought he might be in shock.

He'd thought he'd heard someone crying in Myrtle's bathroom. This would not normally be noteworthy, but the crying voice sounded male.

He had been surprised to discover Draco Malfoy crying. He had been more surprised to realize that Malfoy was casting an unforgivable curse at him. He had been yet more surprised to realize that the spell he'd been thinking over for a couple of days was a cutting curse.

Now he was looking down at Draco Malfoy as the latter bled out, and he was surprised. Surprised to find that he had no desire to try to save the boy.

Malfoy had always been a pest. Harry was sure that Malfoy was up to something this year.

None of that was relevant. He knew he should try to do something. Staunch the bleeding. Seek medical help.

But he didn't want to. Voldemort was back. Harry has been prophesized to defeat this great evil, and that would be just so much easier if Malfoy wasn't running around distracting him with whatever plot he was concocting.

Malfoy was still now, and Harry still didn't care. He hoped he was in shock, but he didn't think so. He never really felt it when he killed Quirrel, either.

But now Harry needed to do something.

He transfigured the body into a rat skull, vanished the blood, opened the enterance to the Chamber of Secrets, and dropped the skull in.