Fuck. Seamus cursed silently, willing himself not to show a reaction to Ambrose's words. He wasn't scared of the little arse; he was good in a fistfight, and if it came to that, he was confident he could drop Travers with a few well placed punches. He was better than average in a duel too, thanks to the DA, and thought he could hold his own there as well.
No, he wasn't worried about himself. But if Travers really were going to stick to him like glue, he'd become a risk to the rest of the DA. Shit. Why did he always let people like Travers get to him? Why couldn't he learn not to take the bait? He could almost see Neville shaking his head in disappointment.
Still, he couldn't let on that Travers had rattled him in any way. He arched an eyebrow at the younger boy. "Oh, really?" he muttered in a bored tone, "I think you'll get bored pretty fast. After all, all we can't even curse our plants properly, right? So I don't know what you think you'll see." He crossed his arms over his chest and stepped to the side. "Are we done?" Wanker he added in his head.