Draco was wearing shackles in what could generously be considered a closet as he finally got to see his solicitor. The room was sweltering and stuffy, and he knew that the environmental charms were tampered with just to make him suffer, reeking and sweat-drenched. When she first arrived, her nose twitched in shock at the cloying scent of musk and his cologne. Helena was sporting the same auburn-red hair and highwayman cloak from before, though judging from the fit he knew she hadn't purchased it off the rack for herself, but rather took it off of someone else. Where did father ever find such a person?