Basil was beginning to lose patience with both of them. If Sybella knew what the hell was happening, why wasn’t she fixing it already? And Agrimony? Basil could have knocked the little Slytherin’s lights out for all the help he was being conscious. It was a fraying, uncomfortable feeling to be so helpless and Basil Foxwood was frankly not used to it.

Pushing Macnair back down from the half-rise he’d tried in his weak defense, Basil pressed the swatted hand back against the other’s forehead. He kept his mouth shut hoping it would encourage further action. Macnair looked positively pale and it was making him uneasy.

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