Cassius drew himself up, a bit ofronted. "Of course not," he snapped, the denial harsher than he intended. Some had accused him of such, but never in such a casually inquisitive way. The sheer peculiarity of it left him momentarily off-balance.
Gathering himself again, he asked, more casually, "Do I seem like a bad man, Miss Black? After all, I only came to ask you to tea." He was not a bad man, not like Gellert, not like- apparently- Bellatrix Black. He was simply a practical one. That was all.