Walden Sr was angry with the papers and with Rodolphus Lestrange. Rabastan had only been gone a day and already his brother was splashing rewards money all over the Prophet, talking about how he just wanted his brother back. Like it was really strange that a teenage faggot had wandered off. He could detect his son's hand in the pleas.
He slammed open the door to the dungeon, walking in and finding Rabastan where he'd left him. He'd have to keep away from work for a while, so his son couldn't waltz in and take his prize. "Been a good boy while I was gone?" Walden kicked the cage with a booted foot. "Feeling hungy, boy?"
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