"Damn it," Norman hisses under his breath. It's no matter if Harry hears him swear: the poison's doing its work, as he knew it would, but now he has no idea how to gauge if his hypothesis will have worked. He watches Harry's eyes, the way they seem to have trouble focusing. He knows from his own studies that his venom is mainly neurotoxins, so he's expecting sensory interference and paralysis. Harry can speak now, can hear him, but who knows how much longer that will last?

He can only hope that one of those many skills dies with the harpy - that maybe when Harry resurrects, he'll be a bit less beholden to the voices in his head. It isn't the solution he'd hoped for, but maybe small progress is better than none.