I feel a strange conflict within me, a mixture of being irked and being thrilled by a challenge. I consider how to respond, particularly when you make your points about having muggles clean the floor and do menial labor. Of course, you have a point but I cannot personally consider it a good one.<br/><br/>"Well, I might force a muggle to lick the floor clean but I would not then kiss that muggle on the mouth nor trust that the floor was, in fact, clean. Muggles are filth and the only way I can see them being used is for... entertainment purposes or perhaps as test subjects for new spells and recovered artifacts. Muggles are filthy, disgusting creatures and you deserve so much better than to wear their fabrics as if they could possibly get clothing right."<br/><br/>I sip my wine and swirl it gently in the glass. The red color plays and swirls in the liquid as if the blood was deliberately kept separate from the wine. For a moment I am deep in thought and considering what I have learned about you so far. Wearing muggle clothes. I admit that it makes my skin crawl. It's also an uncomfortable reminder of what danger lies in my own background. If my parentage were well known... well... it would not be good.<br/><br/>"Perhaps you would permit me to obtain clothing for you - there is a nice new store open further down the alley, Dark Enchantments, specializing in enchanted clothing for the discerning witch or wizard. You may, of course, want to avoid some of their more unusual products, unless your tastes run to the decidedly twisted. Now, what brings you here? I understand that you said you had something I may be interested in?"<br/>