The words hit like a slap in the silent office and he flinches at the cold look in Marvolo’s eyes. Harry’s own eyes drop down, focusing on the thick rug beneath him, and he sucks in a tight breath as his chest starts to pump faster. Fuck. Fuck, I shouldn’t have -- He shudders and drops to his knees, glad the rug is there and plush and that he doesn’t have to look up at the other man so long as he keeps staring at the pretty woven pattern in front of him.