Jasper bristled almost like a cat who became surprised and whose fur frayed out because of it. Then again, he hadn't been paying full attention to where he was going either, but that was not the point. His face was set in his trademark sharp expression, which he wore to try and dissuade people from talking to him. The less time he had to spend in the castle underneath the pretext of classes, the better.
"Yeah. Jasper," he grumbled back, before he caught the introduction. Speaking without thinking, he asked: "Oh, like Moaning Myrtle?" It didn't occur to him that maybe no one had told her the truth about her future, the same way people had waited to tell him for so bloody long. But the reality of the situation was that Jasper had, not even by Hufflepuff standards but by the standards of most somewhat mature individuals, absolutely no tact.