After resting his guitar on the floor, Ioan straightened and flashed a half-smile at Taff. It was a dangerous expression, not something that could be mistaken for friendly in any way. His fingers idly searched out his wand, tucked into the back pocket of his jeans. No, he wasn't thinking of hexing the other boy without even explaining why first.
"Yeah, you. The one who showed his true colours last year, when you tortured my best friend," he said, his voice flat. "And then attacked him again, two days ago. What the hell, did your Death Eaters pals tell you to finish him off or something?"
Ioan didn't know about Tristan's involvement in the latter instance. Anthony hadn't yet explained about that bit. He was too out of his head after having it knocked against the wall repeatedly. But then again, Ioan might not have cared. He remembered thinking that Constantine wasn't so bad for a Slytherin, especially since Anthony had liked him. The problem was, that was a whole year and a half ago, and another world entirely.