Malcolm stepped past the man, nodding in thanks. This was increasingly awkward, really.
"I need," Malcolm started, then paused for a second, unsure of the best way to sum up the complexity of his requests. Validation? Guidance? Advice from someone with infinitely more experience in all of the things that he was so obviously lacking?
"I need to know things," he stated, fully aware of how stupid that sounded. "I need to talk to someone who knows things." He fidgeted with his watch. "But before we even start this conversation, I need to ask you something that I feel only you are in a position to know." Malcolm paused, unwilling to even ask the question in fear of the answer.
"Is He back?" Mathwall's tragedy had been sinister. The kind of sinister, frankly, that he believed only Voldemort was capable of. This hadn't been discussed in enough detail.