He could almost hear Neville's voice in his head, urging calmness, patience, caution. He knew it was the smarter path...he knew it. But when Ambrose suggested a betting pool that essentially used his friends' lives as the stakes, he couldn't keep his temper in check. "I've got a better idea. Things aren't goin' t'be like this forever," he smirked right back at Travers, "so why don't we bet on how fast your dad an' his friends end up back in Azkaban."
He smiled tightly before stepping back from the younger boy. "Should be right cozy for him, after all. S'more like home than...well, home...I'd expect."