Tracey followed him into the flat slowly, leaving the door open so some of the smell of burnt food could get out. She should be getting out too, really. Aside from him being a halfblood and completely unsuitable, he also had awful taste in fashion, had too much puppydog enthusiasm to behave himself, and apparently couldn't cook anything but pancakes. That last bit wouldn't have been an issue, since Tracey thought that cooking was best left to house elves, if it weren't for the fact that Tracey had a secret passion for cooking herself.
"What've you done?" she asked, coming into the kitchen now. With her wand, she opened the windows and sent the acrid air out.