Montague's mouth gaped open in retort, his brow twitching as he glared with unadulterated rage. Of course it was different! And sure he was saying that, but hadn't he proved he couldn't be trusted in his words.
His wand was out in seconds upon the words 'Weasley'. A traitor, a poof, and fucking a Weasley?! "You-" The grip on the wood was so tight it hurt, jaw clenched, but then something in the back of his mind that sounded mysteriously like Verity reminded him this was an Auror and his wand dropped slightly.
Making a motion as if he were spitting at him, Montague then dropped his arm and made to leave. "Fucked a Weasley, you are no cousin of mine." He spit before storming to the door.