Harry replied, “You didn’t have to do this. You would have gotten a light sentence, and they probably wouldn’t have even charged Goyle!”
They all laughed viciously at this. “You killed my son you stinking . . .” spat Crabbe senior suddenly. He stepped forward too quickly for Draco to stop him and kicked Harry in the head. Red pain exploded in his skull, like none he had felt since Voldemort was alive.
“Stop it!” commanded Draco. “We don’t want him to die too easily.” As Crabbe backed off, Draco continued: “So, your solution is that we should march meekly into Azkaban, eh? That doesn’t strike me as an appealing career, Potter! Goyle and Crabbe here would have been up for life sentences, and me, too, if you managed to pin Dumbledore’s murder on me!”
“I know it wasn’t you. It was Snape!” Harry replied. “You couldn’t do it!”
Draco scowled threateningly. “You . . . what do you mean?”
“I was there,” replied Harry. “I was invisible. I saw everything.”
“So,” and now Draco’s voice took on a sinister tone, “you stood there on the roof, hiding out of sight while I disarmed Dumbledore? You couldn’t bring yourself to defend him against me? There were two of you, Potter, two!”
“Dumbledore petrified me! I couldn’t move!” replied Harry angrily.
“Oh, right!” said Draco, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Dumbledore figures he’s about to be attacked, so he decides to take out his ally! You must be joking if you think anyone would believe that, Potter!”
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