"No, but there are some assumptions that are easy to make. You lived with her; Snape babysat Pettigrew. He was a spy, trying to ensure he stayed on Voldemort's good side; your family was on the shit list. It's reasonable to assume that you two didn't spend that much time together." He snorted. "Dobby who died. Pettigrew who let them go. Oh right, he might have mentioned that you suddenly couldn't recognise them. Your memory must have been affected by the cruciatus," he teased.
"What do you want, Malfoy? A medal? You were hardly the only one who helped them, but the other people hadn't helped create the situation." He shook his head. "Dad never did hold him responsible. Or you. The arguments were that he was too lenient with your family. Grandpa is still pissed that your father didn't end up in Azkaban as he should have. My uncle gave zero fucks about your son, but the manor brought back bad memories. You can understand that my family didn't want to go back to where they were torture."
Jamie shrugged. "Surprised considering that you gave up while still in school. You can't go pro when you don't play. I understand that the situation was out of your control, but the situation doesn't change. For what it's worth, I'm sorry you couldn't. If you had talent, you should have had the chance. If you want, we can go one in one. I don't play in that position, but I can still play."