The more Malfoy talked, the deeper Jackson seemed to sink in his chair. He wasn't even slouching, just drawing in on himself, his gaze focused somewhere to the side of his teacher's elbow, glaring as if he could bore a hole through the wall behind him. Why did Malfoy even care? Wasn't he supposed to be the entitled king of Slytherin or something? Wasn't his family saturated with dark magic? Or was all of that just propaganda? Then again, the scraps of rumors still lingering didn't exactly paint a complete or accurate picture.

Before he could answer, however, the door opened and Matt shoved his head inside. "Professor, sorry for not--oh." He was a moderately handsome Hufflepuff boy with dark curly hair and startling pale eyes. Those eyes fell on the back of Jackson's head and his eyebrows furrowed, a slightly puzzled from tugging at his face. "Sorry. I'll just...wait out here."