Jack practically did a spit take of his champagne which he had been in the middle of taking a mouthful of when she had given the eyebrow wiggle and cheeky comment. He snorted through his nose, and very much threatened to send champagne up his nose. How gallant! He took a second and forced himself to swallow the mouthful of champagne.
'I can drink to that!' he said with a small cheers he joked in relation to Pettigrews 'unfortunate' injury 'And to a Harpy victory' he added. He glanced around the room, taking in the rest of the room. 'what do you reckon our chances actually are at the top prize?' he asked, his eyebrows knitting together in contemplation of his own question, 'I hear Lichtenstein have a hell of a keeper this year.'