At this his stomach knotted uncomfortably. After losing his broom to the fog and the injury to his leg... He hadn't played since. He'd not really had much opportunity to before that but it had been completely off the cards in the last year or so. If he could just get a broom and get back into the air he was sure it would all come flooding back to him. "Much as I can." Well it wasn't really a lie, he just couldn't confess the truth without making himself look a prize idiot and if Lestrange thought he was deluded and stood absolutely no chance then no one else was going to take him seriously. "Not so easy though. At the moment." There was no need to lead him to a completely unrealistic conclusion.
Eyeing up this magnificent set eh? MJ sold her soul to Satan's graphic designer. I wish he'd take mine too.