A deep maniacal laugh rumbled in the chest behind him. Harry had been clinging to the arm around his chest, but doing anything was becoming increasingly difficult - against his will, his grip faltered, and his arm swung back down by his side. His hand brushed against the wand that was still in his pocket. He tried to make eye contact with Draco, to try and make the other realise he had his wand in between his fingers, through a pointed look down at his pocket. He couldn’t be sure if he’d succeeded - his vision was too hazy. He needed a distraction.  