"His parents," he said quietly. "But that doesn’t mean anything. The fact that he chose to be a Death Eater is enough. It should be enough!" He slammed on the table, causing the books to rumble, even a few closed. "He still roams the halls, acting upon Voldemort’s orders, you won’t do anything! You have known about this! What else haven’t you told me!" His anger grew more. The ambient magic changed as he spoke. Progressively getting more dense, weighing on one’s own magical core. Not that anyone other than me would feel it. You had to be attuned enough to feel it.