The evening started like all Tuesday evenings.

Tube from the City to Waterloo, just another Junior Clerk going home.

Then on the slow, rattly train to Surbiton, barely resisting the
impulse to hide.

A couple of minutes walk to the White Hart.  

A pint of Lager, and a G&T for her.

Bellatrix arrived late, as always, and complained about her drink,
then lead him off to the small hotel she always rented a room in.

But, this evening, he had barely entered the room when he saw the
Lestrange brothers.

"We gather you have information we are looking for, Peter..."