Henry nodded, but as much as she tried to hide it he did see the change in her demeanor. But it could be annoyance at him. It could be that she was annoyed at him for not revealing that he wasn't just an agent, but he's been stuck in the quidditch world for the past nearly decade of his life, that the papers sometimes wrote about him because of his brother, because of his job.
But he had a horrid, twisted feeling in his gut that the slight look of panic that flitted through her eyes was not because of Seth's occupation. Henry felt his own shoulders sag slightly as he forced himself to continue this dreaded conversation.
He was a Slytherin, damn it! He should know how to get through this conversation on the winning side, without feeling like shit, without feeling like he was about to lose the one girl he'd actually started to care about in years, "He said you had a run-in with one of his teammates last season. Drystan Fawcett? That's how he knows who you are."
Henry forced himself to keep his composure, to act as if her acknowledgement of the events was not a big deal to him, that he was willing to accept---things, because he wanted the truth from her. He'd get the truth and from that he'd react. Just not yet.
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