He could practically see the sway of Draco's consideration. Curiosity was a charmingly helpful drive. Or destructive, in equal measure, but it wasn't as if Albus had been rendered defunct by the ordeal. Feeling so wholly cut off from his magic, actually, the withdrawing peak of emotional turmoil left in its wake a convoluted appreciation for the sensation of something magic-induced coursing through him.
Even if he found the design difficult to trust.
"A great deal of resent," he answered, supposing that the simplest answer served the best. "Nothing terribly gruesome, merely persistent. And perhaps momentarily overwhelming. Should you like a bit of privacy, there are other things to which I can attend."
It was enough of a sanction, he supposed, that he wasn't railing against the option of opening the baggage on principle alone. And it wasn't as though anyone had actually died from opening their luggage. That he knew of.