He watched passively as Rabastan took the glass and downed it as if it were the only drink he'd had in days and refused to answer his question as he stared him down in silence. Casually, he tapped a finger against the counter top near the sink. Rabastan was usually mousey and quiet but this was a little bit different. His stammer was much worse.
Reaching out he flicked his finger against his forehead between the eyes. "What are you so afraid of?" he asked in a low tone born purely out of suspicion. "Oh, that's right. You were just aghast at what had happened to poor little Evans, weren't you? Fancy her, do you? Please tell me yes and your concern isn't born from a misplaced notion of Muggleborn rights."