Crabbe fought the urge to scowl. He failed. Their duty wasn't to stand up and say a couple of words in a fucking meringue of a dress ; if she wanted to do her duty then she should start figuring out how to fit six or seven kids into the Keep.
"Pretty white dresses," he drawled before picking at the skin at the side of his fingers as she made tea and offered...cake. "Not a big fan of cake," he half-lied. He'd had a rational distrust of cupcakes since his Hogwarts and he'd never figured out how to eat cake delicately.
Face flushed with colour, he turned to stare at her after the pithy little comment about Geoff Goyle. "You won't stand for that? Geoff Goyles an Elder and he's just been named the fucking head of a department in the Ministry. Successful, married and a damn good man. He was my da's best mate so you might want to curb your tongue on the issue."
He wasn't above cutting it out of her if she continued to spout rot ; or giving her over to her almost-father in law to deal with. Uppity little Gryff twit.