Harry shifted uncomfortably as Dean cast a charm to keep their conversation private. He was tempted to cast his own as well, just to double the strength and decrease the possibility of anyone overhearing them, but he knew Dean's would be strong enough. As much as he trusted Dean, he still didn't want to tell him exactly what happened. The least amount of people that knew, the better.
"That should be hard," he commented sarcastically, an automatic defense, "I'm only half your size." He did not enjoy being slammed to the floor over and over again. Who would? The crazy person across from him being the only exception.
"I punched Malfoy in the face the other day, in one of the bathrooms," he commented, shifting again and unable to look Dean directly in the eye. It was a lame attempt at redirecting him to a different topic ... but at least it wasn't an outright lie. He had done that. There was just more to the story. More that would soon follow beneath the sharp eyes of his mentor. "And I may have said I was going to stay out of his life forever only to destroy the only positive evidence that his 'friend' cast a severing charm in the middle of Diagon Alley."
By the time he finished that explanation, he'd slouched down in his seat and sounded particularly dejected. Saying it out loud only made him sound even more pathetic and bloody insane. Why the hell had he done something so stupid?