Blaine Borgin stood in front of the door to Theodore Nott's home, his anger for the moment suppressed behind a thin mask of contempt and dislike. Barely suppressed, honestly. Theodore Nott was messing with Blaine's life, and he did not approve. At the sight of the other man opening the door, wand in hand, Blaine automatically frowned. "On the contrary," he replied coolly, his fingers tightening around the wand in his pocket, though he didn't draw it just yet. "I think right now is a perfect time. I need to have a discussion with you, and that-" bitch "-woman you are seeing. She's here, is she not?"