"I didn't want to name you, Severus."
"But you did." He looked exactly as Karkaroff remembered, greasy hair and all, though time had given his face new lines.
"Severus, I was desperate!"
"I assumed as much." The younger man coolly poured himself another glass of wine. "Though what you hope to gain by resuscitating our friendship is beyond me. It's been fourteen years, Igor."
Karkaroff drew his furs around himself protectively. This wasn't the welcome he'd expected at all.
"Severus, I..." He tried to think of something to say. "I'm sorry."
Severus smirked into his wineglass.
"I'm sure you are."