Sorry I'm late!
Indeed the boy had beaten her there. He was leaning against the fireplace mantle, idly contemplating one of the pictures remaining as a reminder of the former inhabitants. An old woman waved up from the photo, smiling, blissfully unaware of just exactly went on in the cottage. Salazar only knew why Rodolphus had left some of the old junk laying around.
He raised a beer bottle to his lips, having consumed a six pack back in his flat, and wondered for the zillionth time exactly what he was doing fucking around with Mafalda. The woman sort of scared the hell out of him. He hated her, but he was awed by her. It was all quite confusing and usually easily remedied with some booze. But he'd been a little mouthy and now he had to back it all up. Ridiculous.
As he took another sip the door opened and in sauntered Mafalda, looking as striking as usual. She looked so smug and arrogant, and for a moment Adrian saw Bellatrix. He shivered a bit despite himself.