At that, Faelan jerked his eyes from his beer to Harry, but he held his tongue. Months ago, he would have lashed back in defense of himself, but he wasn't quite the same brittle kid he was then. Nevertheless, his hackles stirred and his jaw tightened.
"I've always been magic," Faelan muttered. "I just...held it back. On purpose," he added, though he knew it had been years since he'd had to think about it that way, and even then, it hadn't been an entirely conscious effort. It was true that his magic had been very quiet - even within himself - until quite recently.