He laughed. "I know it seems very strange at first. I've been there, though I was a lot younger. I w-" He stopped himself as she went on. "He told you that?" he asked, his eyes closing as he slumped backwards into the chair. He merely nodded as she went on. "My son has no idea what he's talking about," he said when he looked up again. "I've told him to let me handle it, but he's too much like me I suppose."
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You just made me want to lock up my son and not let him out until Voldemort is dead," he said, giving her a sad smile. "Do me a favour and if you meet his mother, don't tell her that. She will lock him up. I'll settle for tying to talk to him. Again. Though I'm starting to think my wife has the right idea."
He smiled at her again. "Several clothes shops, but nothing like you'd be used to." He gestured to his robes. "This is what we normally wear, though young people wear Muggle clothes as well. If you want something from the Muggle world I'll be happy to arrange it for you, however. It's not a problem."