Trev Scabior sold his scruples for a galleon. (opportunist) wrote in wished,
"That's right," Trev smirked and tugged her toward the door. "I knew you'd have to admit it sooner or later." Letting her out first, he took a moment to wave his wand in a series of complicated charms, recasting his wards. "'Ow about the Three Broomsticks? Better food." The Hogshead, though he preferred it, was not the place to go if you were at all peckish, he'd readily admit.