Miles was waiting for that extra spark of rage in his friend - the rage and fury and he'd totally expected to have been hexed where he stood. He would have let him take a free pot shot right now as well too.
He didn't know what to say or do, but the mechanical action of just refilling two fingers into Cass' glass seemed like something to fill the moments as he heard the softness in his friend's tone as he spoke on Weasley.
He'd heard that tone before, and somehow, he wondered at the depth of this... relationship that he had with Percy.
He broke the reverie. "Well then, your mother's life is probably already forfeit." His nostrils flared in distaste at the thought of having to say that, and he tried to diffuse the situation. "Look, I like this about as much as you, but I have my hands tied too, and I'm supposed to be the one you give your reports to."
"I don't care how much you put in them, just make them... deep enough that my own arse doesn't get crucioed, and your Muggle mother stays in one piece. Make up shit if you have to." He let his own complete distaste at this whole situation come through in his words.
"If I knew where she was being held, or even how she was..." He left the thought dangling in mid sentence, letting Cass realise they were both in over their heads.