Had Agrimony known that tackling Foxwood was going to earn him a good few seconds without air supply, he’d have thought a little bit longer before he did it. As it was, he could only grunt in pain and listen as the rustle of batwings told him he’d missed his chance. He swore under his breath. “Well that worked out splendidly.” He muttered, grunting again, feeling the stab of something else around his chest. Sweet Merlin, the boy had held onto the book like his life depended upon it. So instead of accepting his gratitude, Agrimony scowled down at him, supporting his own weight now by placing his hands on either side of Foxwood’s head. “Did you have to take the book with you?”

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