"It is illegal," Jean said.  "I will protest!"  He struggled to get free, and though he didn't manage that he did hook a finger into Draco's shirt and tear the fabric.  Draco looked down at the rip and frowned.  He'd never really liked this shirt but that didn't mean he wanted some disease-carrying Veela who'd hurt his girl to shred it.  The bastard slept with Hermione, slept with Pansy, and now this?  He tightened his grip on the man with muscles he'd earned through years of playing Quidditch and yanked hard enough to wrest a pain-filled oof from their prisoner.  He didn't feel sorry.