"Most appreciated." There's a faintly annoyed note in his voice, overlaid with the politeness who has been raised to use manners as a weapon. At the same time, his gray eyes glint with something like sadistic amusement. The ones from the future seem to eye him - probably Bella as well - with a trepidation he's not entirely accustomed to. Don't mistake him, there are ministry officials in Riddle's inner circle who engender the same thing from natives of his time. He's just not one of them.

He pulls out a small pouch of galleons from the depths of his robes and taps it lightly on the counter as Dean wraps his items.