*After decades of long practice, Walburga has mastered the decorous swoon. Her nightgown and wrapper are neat, as if carefully arranged--not even her ankles are showing, just two bronze slippers embroidered with the Black crest peeping out from under her hems. Fluttering, her eyes find Orion, and she looks at him with utter sincerity. Her voice is wavery, drifting up from the floor.*

It was Muggles, Orion.