Greed - Draco
He was gone. The Dark Lord was finally gone.
The past two years had been a nightmare. He never wanted to admit it to his parents, or especially his Aunt Bella. Then he would have been a blood traitor, just as bad as a Mudlbood. Surely he would have been killed.
But Potter won, yet again. Now he could go home with Mother and Father, spend a good long summer at Malfoy Manor without death lingering in the shadows.
He looked up and down the Slytherin table, noticing vaguely that the absence of his usual crowd didn't bother him. Pansy, Zabini, Goyle…Crabbe…nobody he knew of really cared about them though.
But even as he thought it, he knew it was wrong. At the other three house tables and even the staff table, everyone was relieved to see those relatives and friends who survived, and were mourning over the losses. Draco, however, had lost nobody. He had his parents and his possessions were waiting at home, which was all he cared about.
He was beginning to feel the slightest shame for his selfish feelings. Still, he supposed he should be grateful to Harry Potter for finishing the Dark Lord for good.