Trev Scabior sold his scruples for a galleon. (opportunist) wrote in wished,
"Yeah," Trevor rolled his eyes at her suggestion. "I don't know enough words to tell you how 'orrible of an idea that is," he said firmly, disgusted at the idea of spending any amount of time as a Weasley. "And no one in their right mind would give one of that lot any fucking information worth anything."
Resettling himself on the desk, Trevor sipped thoughtfully, considering the options opened to him by appearance charms. "Best place to work," he gestured at her with his glass before drinking, "Dark pubs." They were some of his favourite places. The idea that he could make a habit of working like he did years ago appealed to him and he nodded at Gretch but kept the notion to himself. "Keep working on that."