"Nymphadora! Give it back. You fucking bitch! Give –" But she waved her wand and Draco knew she'd dropped the privacy spell and snapped his mouth shut with a whining growl. He wasn't about to give Krum the fucking pleasure. He fell back into his chair, Nymphadora's words beating in his head. Draco had been wrong. Made the wrong decisions. Fucked up. But he just couldn't seem to bring himself to reach out and try to fix it; not that he truly believed it could be fixed. Images of the Wizengamot swam in front of his eyes. Any fix would be a temporary affair – until they were all killed, or he was dragged off in fucking chains to face justice.