There was that look on Cass' face, and he knew that he'd hit on a sore note. Or at least, a very private one.
"People in the pub talk," he said quickly as an excuse, but he was already taking a deep breath, along with another mouthful of fire-whiskey to give him the dutch courage to go on.
Suddenly, he was pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, it's none of my business who you're shagging, other than my wife, but I really didn't just ask you here today to just tell you about the baby. Although I did think you'd have better taste than a bloody Weasley."
He gave Cass the most apologetic look he had ever managed to muster, before locking onto his friend's gaze. "I drew the short straw, mate, and I've been asked to pass on a message." He let a moment tick by before going on.
"Well, not so much a message as an ultimatum. Lestrange has your mother."