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“Save the ashes.”
“What?” Harry’s ears were still ringing from the screams of the Howler that had just burnt itself out on his desk, and he’d just pulled his wand to vanish the mess.
“The ashes from the Howler,” Malfoy repeated with annoyance. “We can analyze them to determine who sent it.”
“We can? No one mentioned a spell for that in training.”
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I thought you were raised by Muggles, Potter. Don’t you know about PDA testing?”
Harry tried to contain his amusement. “I don’t think you can test for that, Malfoy. That Howler may have been a public display, but it certainly wasn’t very affectionate.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Malfoy looked like he regretted starting this conversation. With exaggerated patience he explained, “Whoever sent that had to add her saliva to the ink so that it could speak in her voice. The ashes will contain her PDA.”
Harry lost his battle to refrain from laughing. “Oh! You mean DNA!”
Malfoy had the grace to look somewhat chagrined. “Whatever, Potter. I was merely trying to help.” He turned around and started to leave.
“Wait!”
“If you’re just going to mock me...”
“No! I’m sorry, Malfoy. Really. I just didn’t expect—”
“What? That I might have some useful knowledge?”
There was some truth to that, Harry had to admit. “You’re right.” Malfoy raised his eyebrows while Harry continued, “I didn’t expect that you would know about Muggle forensics. And I didn’t know you could get DNA off a Howler.”
Malfoy pursed his lips and nodded, but still looked displeased.
“Let me make it up to you? Come on, after work I’ll buy you a drink.”
“Alright,” Malfoy agreed, looking him up and down, “But only if you explain about PDA.”
And then the bastard winked.