"They guard Azkaban, the wizard prison," Draco explains a bit absently. He's used to having to remind his lackeys of the basics every now and again. "But he's not a real one. Obviously."
It's a disappointment when the figure utterly fails to respond to his jibe, and it's downright insulting when he reaches for Ecks. Excuse you, Mister Rubbish Dementor. First he has the nerve to ignore him, and now he's making some sort overture towards his henchperson? That will not stand.
"Let me down, Ecks," he orders magnanimously. Once his feet hit the floor, he swaggers between the stranger and Ecks and frowns up in the general vicinity of the hooded fellow's face. "What," he begins in a tone that suggests he won't be ignored again, "do you think you're doing?" He sneers at the outstretched hand, then lifts his gaze back to the faceless shadow beneath the hood. Then he gives the outstretched hand a deliberate, dismissive whap with the back of his palm.
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It's a disappointment when the figure utterly fails to respond to his jibe, and it's downright insulting when he reaches for Ecks. Excuse you, Mister Rubbish Dementor. First he has the nerve to ignore him, and now he's making some sort overture towards his henchperson? That will not stand.
"Let me down, Ecks," he orders magnanimously. Once his feet hit the floor, he swaggers between the stranger and Ecks and frowns up in the general vicinity of the hooded fellow's face. "What," he begins in a tone that suggests he won't be ignored again, "do you think you're doing?" He sneers at the outstretched hand, then lifts his gaze back to the faceless shadow beneath the hood. Then he gives the outstretched hand a deliberate, dismissive whap with the back of his palm.
Ignore that.