Rita's tea was forgotten about the moment Philomena confided in her. Frowning deeply, Rita nodded in thought about what she would do to a man that ever dared to lift a hand to her. She couldn't fathom being in Phil's designer stilettos and to be quite honest, Rita didn't want to think about it. Her mother, God rest her soul, while an abhorrent bitch, did raise Rita with different morals than those that ran in the pureblooded circles. Rita learned from her mother's mistakes. She learned that she didn't want to grow up to be a rug. She also learned to use men to her whims and be a strong woman without a man. There was no need for one of them using her like they used her mother.
"Oh, my lovely," Rita attempted to sound consoling as she reached out to place a reassuring pat to Phil's hand. "He sounds horrid and I'm sorry you have to suffer through his abuse." Pulling her hand back, she wrapped finely manicured fingers around her cup of tea. "An auror on the outside, and a horrid beast on the outside." She said bitterly as she began to lift her cup of tea.
"He sounds like the monster my father became," Lifting the cup to her crimson painted lips, she sipped her tea. "My mother and father were forced into a marriage, you know?" Sharp, eagle like green eyes glanced up at Philomena, "It was an attempt to unite two families."