Trev Scabior sold his scruples for a galleon. (opportunist) wrote in wished,
"Walking from London? Yeah, I'd think so." He folded his arms over his chest and watched her fetch the chair and fall into it. "Nothing. Just doing a little work. Got some amulets in I was charming." There were no plans for them yet, sell them in Diagon or pawn them off on some Muggle wanna-be psychic shop, either would be worth a laugh. "Want to get a drink? I was going to go down to the pub anyway."