The repetition, dumbed down this time, made Harry’s jaw clench.<br/>"I’m not in possession of any objects," he specified, pointedly to avoid Malfoy having to ask him a third, useless time.<br/>The startled annoyance directed at an ill-timed practical joke had started to dissipate, in stead giving way for tension, the lack of context to the specific nuances of Malfoy’s wards leaving him tightly wound, unnerved and in the dark.<br/>"All I’ve got on me is my wand, everything else has been confiscated by an Auror for evaluation. There's nothing on my chest."<br/>He stared at Malfoy, frustrated by their imbalance. While Harry’s mind was going a thousand miles and hour just to comprehend what had changed about their interaction, Malfoy seemed obnoxiously at ease. It made Harry want to apparate out of the foyer with little regard to the defensive measures undoubtedly woven into the wards; he couldn’t stand another smug, pointless question, not when Malfoy didn’t even meet his line of sight.<br/>Harry parted his lips to cuss Malfoy out, to have him explain himself better, when something in his expression changed.<br/>"A scar," he dawned upon, the look of defiance finally wavering. For a long, silent moment, Harry almost looked horrified at the implication before his face once again knotted up with annoyed incredulity. "Sod off, that’s not it. I’ve had that since the war, and it’s not once been an issue."