Clorinda/Caradoc
Caradoc rolled his head in response, because he thought rolling his eyes wouldn't be enough. But then, for good measure, he took off his glasses and rolled his eyes at her as well. She was too much of a straight arrow when it came to ownership and use of historical artefacts and he was the opposite of everything she had mentioned in the second half of her little speech. While he would've loved to involve Narcissa in this whole mess, he was too clever to be burdened by even more favours that could be collected later on.
And he definitely didn't believe in the world's most interesting historical items to gather dust behind charmed glass walls (or bullet-proof glass walls in the case of Muggles) inside boring museums.
"I'm going to take that first idea and run with it. I most certainly will not be blackmailed. I will have what is rightfully mine. And please don't bring this up with Narcissa or she will hound me to see what it is. I tracked them down on someone else's request and will definitely not be giving them to a stupid museum."
Before he could speak further, the tremendous amount of food Clorinda had ordered arrived. Two stone-faced waiters started fussing about the table, setting everything. While they made a show of unfurling napkins for them, Caradoc filled up his cup with coffee and drained it in a few long sips. It scalded his throat and jolted his senses. Just what he needed.
"What about you though?" he asked, waving at the waiters to finally bugger off. "What are you doing here so early in the morning?"