"I make my own choices, Potter," his voice was dark and quiet and vibrated with a strange sort of power. "I walked into that fight willingly. And so did you. You did not, however, walk to your death when you mounted your broom for what was supposed to be a friendly school match." His tone remained at that quiet, violent murmur; it soothed Harry’s magicks somewhat. "Your parents are here. Evan is here. Theo and Granger and even Longbottom are here. And I’ll be in the air with you, okay?" 