"He would have probably killed my dad, if we hadn't left." After the ministry had, basically, fallen to Voldemort, muggle-born witches and wizards were prey. But that was in the past, and didn't matter all that much anymore.

And when Avery inched closer, all concern for the previous conversation fled. His eyes cut to the side, wide and a bit uncertain. 'If you want to'? Was this a trick?

Clearing his throat, Leon glanced away again and frowned. "Even if I did, why would you want me to?" He asked, fidgeting nervously. It was a set up. It had to be. After all the shit he'd given Avery over the years, how could the boy not be out for a little pay back?

"Shouldn't you hate me by now?"