"I did cook, yes. See? I'm not just a pretty face," Regulus said lightly as he moved toward the table. "There are magical servants, but they aren't like house-elves. They-"
He broke off with a sharp gasp as pain seared his left arm - a fiery burn that was all too familiar. It was a pain he could never forget and one he had hoped he would never feel again.
As suddenly as it hit, the pain was gone, and he was left reeling in the aftermath, panting, his forehead beaded with sweat.