Harry squeezed Mandy's hand again. He really wanted to punch something, but unless he wanted to break both hands on the heavily scrolled metal gate, he didn't have a lot of options here.
He glanced over at his mother and almost smiled; he could see her thinking about his language, like a balloon over her head. No matter what other crap was happening, Mum was Mum. It was oddly comforting.
"The little rat faked his own death." He met her eyes. "He's not smart enough to do that on his own, so who helped? The Malfoys? The Lestranges? MacNair, the Goyles, Crabbes?" He knew all their names - it was legend.