Icarus (смешанная)

"Mother's fulfilled her promise at last," Tom Riddle said, grinning widely as he struggled to get onto his feet. The blood pouring down over his broken nose and dripping over his teeth made his smile significantly more sinister than it would have otherwise been. "Does it hurt?"
"What, falling five-hundred feet from the sky?" Harry started, with a voice as sweet as burnt sugar. His broom was smoking in a pile next to him. "Why don't you try it and then come back and tell me?" he said, flat-toned, and then - "Gosh, why aren't you dead, I landed on you from five-hundred feet!"