As Matt joined in the cheering, Monty laughed, though the sincerity rapidly diminished from the sound. He'd thus far mostly managed to keep himself distracted from where he was, but the height of the stands was nauseating, the feeling of entrapment suddenly overwhelming and impossible to ignore. His glance of warning toward Olive, whose experiences, whilst perhaps reassuring in her own mind, were not presently very helpful, was weak, and she was unsurprisingly impervious to its effect. Eventually he gave up, returning his focus to staving off a panic attack. "Hm? Oh, no," he said, clapping as Lyra scored the first goal for Gryffindor. Really, he didn't care who won - he just wanted them to win quickly.