Bella nodded her approval and swept past him into the terribly plebian kitchen. Gingham prints? How tacky.
The father charged into the room, his dressing gown gaping open and streaming behind him in a parady of a proper cloak. He slid to a halt upon spotting her and let loose an offensive stream of incredulous vulgarity. A flick of her wand sent him flying to slam into the far wall with an agonized grunt. "Do not speak to your betters in such a tone, you foul creature."
The wife screamed from the other room and Bellatrix sent the neophyte after her with a wave of her hand.