Next time. How he liked the sound of that. And of the knowledge that this was only the first of so many similar moments in their lives. Their sanguine lives. Was he concerned about the repercussions of their action, of possible chastisement by either set of parents? Fuck no. He already realized the darkness that lay within. The low weight which the life of a house elf carried. Or a mudblood.
No, they'd been born into the ideal environment to foster what they were inside, bring it to fruition. He glanced down at his bloodstained suit, swore because he hated to see fine clothes ruined - he was a bit of a fop in that regard.
"I'm going to go take care of this," he announced - by which he really meant cajole his mother into buying him something new. "Want to come along? I'll make her buy us something to eat...."
What an unnatural child to find an appetite after such a gruesome display.