He seemed cross. He knew there was a trap. He said,

'Did you think I would be so overcome in my grief as to not notice the ambush?

Who ordered you to do it, to bait the trap with such a lure? I refuse to believe the idea was yours; you do not have the viciousness it would require. Your mother's, perhaps, if she did not believe the disposition of your brother's body was no idea of mine, nor would I have allowed it? Finch-Fletchley, who knows full well what the burial of the dead signifies to me? Rachel Brodie, to avenge her parents? Diggory, perhaps, or Parkinson, or Perks, or even Auri -- she certainly would know. Or Hydra Lestrange, having read the truth from the mind of one of the others, precisely the way her mother might have?

Or was the idea planted upon you in secret, and you made to think the message-bearing was your idea and the heart of your heart used to betray you, while you are left to suffer remonstrances for your compassion issued by those who claim themselves to be dwelling upon the moral high ground?

Tell your masters I am not such a fool as to walk into their arms, no matter the provocation.'