Rodolphus nodded solemnly at his brother's statement before a grin quirked at his lips, "In the end it's never the loud mouths you have to worry about though, right? The quiet ones are the ones that backstab you when you least expect. Though it is such fun to teach the loud ones a lesson." Rodolphus had no fondness for McNeal. The boy would have been insane in moments if he had heard the remark.
Giving his brother a pout, Rodolphus had the audacity to steal another strip of the crispy meat. "Hey, you still owe me for all those times I snuck dessert up to you when we were kids. At at Azkaban." Poor Rabastan. The dry sticky rice pudding they received on Sundays was all the sugar they had been allotted. Ever the big brother, Rodolphus had always kept his to slide across the hallway to his brother's cell. Strange tenderness in a dark world.