Greg eyed Lovegood for a long, silent moment. She seemed serious enough though that might not mean much since it was Lovegood.
"Alright," he said finally, "C'mon then." Turning away he went on toward the back and let Lovegood either follow him or wander away as she saw fit. When he opened the heavy swinging door that led into the back of the building, she was still there so he waved her on into the dimly lit hallway. "Up the stairs," he said shortly, nodding to the narrow steps to the immediate right.
Greg followed her up to the second floor. There were aisles and aisles of damaged furniture stretching into the shadowed distance. The Fergusons had been collecting from here there and everywhere for decades if not centuries and it showed. He sometimes wondered what they'd ever intended to do with the mess before he'd shown up looking for something he could fix up to replace the furniture that had been destroyed when his father and several other Death Eaters had resisted when the Aurors came for them at country house. Mrs Ferguson had offered him a job after he'd proven he had the skills to actually do what he'd claimed he could do.