As Draco spoke, he didn't move his gaze from him. "I didn't stay dead," he accused him, though his words weren't full of heat. For any other person on Earth, if they died, they normally stayed dead. He had faced his own number of death eaters who wanted him dead after the fall of their lord and master. They didn't last long before they were put away in Azkaban.

He flicked his gaze to the scar. If anything, it made the man look more handsome. "You know as well as I do that I can take care of it, Malfoy," he said, softer then. "It's been five years..."