"Shit, Longbottom. I’m not a fucking child," Draco said and rolled his eyes before looking down at his leg. Oh. Fuck. The world reeled around him and his stomach rebelled. His left leg from the knee down was a seared mess of roasted skin, the remnants of his trouser leg little scraps of charred material sticking to the crisped, crackled flesh. He choked down bile, head down, eyes shut, breathing through his mouth not his nose. He didn’t want to smell that pork stench anymore, not now he’d seen it. Maybe Longbottom’s numbing spell hadn’t been so bad after all – with that amount of damage Draco should have been balled up on the floor shrieking his throat raw.