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Summary
He smiled again when a tremor shook the foundation of the abandoned estate, dust and debris raining down on them as cracks appeared in the roof. Far above them screams began renting the air, only to be silenced immediately.
“Why are you smiling?” Dolohov snarled, gripping his hair and yanking until Draco was looking up at him, blood trickling down the back of his throat rather than out of his nose as it had been the last ten minutes or so.
“Have you met my wife, Dolohov? She’s rather terrifying when she wants to be,” he said smugly.