Her words cut him like a knife. He'd been doing so well...only he hadn't. He'd let Lestrange find out - about Percy, about his mother. He hadn't kept either safe. Now he was paying the price.
'Percy is many things, Pans, but forgiving isn't one of them,' he said only, knowing it was true. It was what he'd counted on, after all. That way he knew he would never be trusted with anything important enough for Rodolphus to care about.
'It's all my fault, all of it, Pans. I-' he hesitated, then gave her a small smile that never reached his eyes. 'I'm just not good enough.'