Millicent's arrival didn't come as a surprise. She could be heard stomping around the house for a little while now, her loud footsteps getting louder. Not that he knew her particularly well, having arrived only a week prior to her leaving for patrols, but this seemed like a different kind of stomp, not her usual 'there's a good-looking bloke in my house, let's pretend I'm not affected'. This was something else, and far be it for him to attribute any kind of emotion to this woman, he thought she was annoyed. Or upset. And since he was the only one in the house, he was going to get the brunt of it, oh joy. Not that this bothered him overmuch - he could give as good as he got - but hadn't they come to an agreement?
The book he was working on was open on his desk. Yes, it was an ancient wizarding version of the Kama Sutra, but what did he have to hide? He'd been working on refreshing the writing, unable to do anything about the sluggishly moving illustrations without his wand. Sometimes, the book would also give a loud groan of pain rather than a moan as it was supposed to do, but there was nothing he could do about that either; not until they got married and he could appeal to have certain, work-related charms enabled on his stick. And even then, he might have to get someone else, with a fully functional wand, working for him.
The walls were rattling, signaling her approach, and Roger relocated his owl to the edge of his desk. Odds were good that she had received one as well, and he didn't want her to think she'd been the only one to receive the ridiculous invitation. Or rather, "invitation". It was hardly an invitation when you had no choice but to attend.
One knock and then she opened the door. Roger looked up from his book, quill in hand, and looked at her. Just as he had suspected; while distance hadn't made the heart grow fonder (not by a long shot), it had made him forget just how ugly she was. Seeing her again was a... a disappointment. And a damn good reminder just what he was supposed to get it up for in order to perform his husbandly duties. If that was even a word.
"Millicent," he said simply by way of greeting as he set down his quill. "What can I do for you?"