[ He's half expecting the medallion around his neck to go cold when Harry's irritation sparks, but it doesn't. What he does get is a kick to his shin, which earns a hissed curse and his best efforts not to start yelling and blow up their spot. He's less successful on the second kick, which he matches with a hard elbow to Harry's side. ]

That never works.

[ Mat knows. Not from infiltrating fancy parties in space, obviously; he's just caused enough trouble back home to know how low those odds are. There's no sign of embarrassment at how transparent his own thoughts are, because those thoughts clearly don't apply to Harry, anyway. Not even in the context of shitty lies, thank you very much. ]

Can't you find out who's on the other side of the door? We wait until they're elsewhere, or distracted. Skip the excuses altogether.

[ Find out what's going on with """"magic"""", he means, but fuck if he's making that suggestion explicit. Plausible deniability. ]