His mouth quirks. "Ravenclaw ambition. It depends how far the footprints go, I should think, and whether they end in the right direction."
"Very little," he admits. "His lies about his goals appealed while I believed them, what I was permitted to know about his methods--" he stops. "What I allowed myself to know about his methods," he corrects himself ruthlessly, "were not beyond the pale of wartime morality, my friends never thought for a moment they could not rely on my support, I could not absent myself from the struggle I'd been a part of since my Sorting, and the other side seemed at that time to offer only hypocrisy, patronization, hostility, reactionary bigotry, and humiliations. He needed offer me nothing but the regard due a trusted subordinate of utility."
He has to smile about the turtle. He raises an eyebrow, inviting the puzzlement to be vocalized, and says, "In your case, a brother might either have been a staunch ally or struggles between you might have attracted attention from your parents." Nodding, "Certainly; I'll give you one before you leave. How are your oranges coming?"