"Death by Chocolate," Rodolphus tells the waiter. "Though if I do die, I promise I'll come back and haunt you." He smirks at the man. "And bring an extra fork," he peeks at Severus. "Just in case he decides to indulge."
"It certainly couldn't hurt," Rus tells him. "Well, actually, some of it could. So," he shrugs expansively. "I was a better cook than she was," he remembers. "No Black ever knew how to cook."
"Why's it closed? he asks. "Haunted? Thought muggles went mad for things like ghosts." He nods; he remembers. "Do you think it might be?" Merlin's magic loose here might just explain all the oddities. "I can see that," Rus says, fondly exasperated. "You always wear black. I meant if you wore something other than black, you wouldn't seem so batty."
"You make it sound like I kill people at the drop of a hat!" he protests, pouting. "I only did that the once you know. It was my favourite hat."
"No?" Rus looks curious. "Children bounce back much more easily. I doubt you gave more than a dozen students nightmares in all your years at Hogwarts. You should have tried harder." He stretches his legs under the table. "Probably," he says carelessly, not promising anything. "All right." He sounds surprised. "How much should I get?" Rus shrugs again, looking thoughtful. "Oh, five or six hours I'd imagine. Maybe longer if I'm having fun."