In Hogsmeade...
'I am paying it. On Shacklebolt's request,' Rodolphus said sourly. There were quite a few things the Minister had requested since Rodolphus had left Azkaban. They were all worth it, anyway. Nothing could make up for even one more day in that godforsaken place.
'Please sit.' Rodolphus tried to remember he had one had manners. Before he went away, before his wife went insane and ran around like a common tart after Lord Voldemort. 'Minister Shacklebolt sent me some little girl who demanded she was an... interior designer. I think she was Muggle-born. She left-' Rodolphus waved at the furniture. 'this.' He wrinkled his nose minutely. He both liked the room and hated it. 'At least it is nothing like Azkaban, and some of the furniture is from my manor house.' Rodolphus didn't say that his manor was just as large and grey and gloomy as Azkaban. He wasn't sure what to do with it, not yet. If he had to admit it, Hogsmeade wasn't half bad, although the house was the size of his master bedroom at home.