She wanted to look away, as his lips crooked into a familiar, arrogant smile. It was one that dripped with charm, one that she’d seen him wear since he was a child and he found he could charm the house-elves to lie to their Uncle, saying they had little idea where the boy or his sister hid. Tom had held his hand over her mouth while the house-elves were beaten, their Uncle roaring that he knew the children were about. He’d never found them hidden in the closet, a place they often chose as their hiding place.  