Actually, that thought bore repeating for clarity.
Walden was bored out of his fucking mind.
He was bored out of his fucking mind and had a hard-on for a little excitement. Just a little. Any excitement. Something to ease the monotony of the same four cell walls. But there was no excitement to be had when he was the only one in a cell and didn't see anyone but that useless excuse of a Wizengamot -- Regulus Black was a disgrace to be leading those fools, not half the man, or woman, his cousin had been -- just before they sentenced him to a lifetime of boredom in this place. It wasn't even any fun taunting the guards because they never played along and he only ended up bored again within five minutes.
Still, this was new. The guards came to get him and take him out of his cell. But, instead of taking him to the Ministry, he was taken to another room at the prison. His eyebrow climbed up his forehead when he saw who was sitting in the room.
"Why if it isn't our old friend, Stephen Nott," he said pleasantly, taking a seat without preamble. He smirked, thinking of the last Nott he'd dealt with, but continued the charade of pleasantries. "You look...well."