Raphael watched the exchange between Splitters and Yaxley, feeling as though he'd intruded on something deeper than a mere transaction gone wrong. Yaxley had a temper, sure, but she'd drawn her wand seemingly without realizing, and he found his gaze caught on it as she argued with Splitters. He couldn't remember ever having to fight with someone at a pawn shop—disagreements, sure, but never had he been driven to hysterics. The little voice in the back of his mind told him that she was being irrational, that they probably only gave her a hard time because she'd demanded too high a price or didn't know how things worked around here, but there was a change of tone to her voice that brought his gaze back to her face.

Not only did she look angry—she looked moritified. Her cheeks were tinged pink and her eyes glassed over with unshed tears, and he found himself so caught on the words that left her mouth that he merely stared at her blankly when she turned and spoke to him.

"you also offered to business of a different sort didn’t you?" she'd said to Splitters. He wasn't stupid; his experience told him it could only mean one thing, but in this case he had to second-guess. Yaxley was a woman, so there was a chance she didn't know what she was saying, and despite the accusations against Splitters Raphael didn't want to assume that he'd tried to buy a woman who, while not wealthy, was no whore.

Irritated, he couldn't even let her finish. "—What do you mean, business of a different sort?" he interrupted.

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