2.| ✮𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮, 𝓑𝓲𝓵𝓵. ✮ {𝓑. 𝓦𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓵𝓮𝔂}

\𝓉ℯ𝓃\

Percy continued; "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans —"

"Do us a favor, Perce," said Bill, yawning, "and shut up." He caught Eleanora's eye and winked. She looked away, a small smile growing on her face.

Mr. Weasley and Percy left the house after only a few minutes to try and help smooth things over at the Ministry, leaving the rest of the family to occupy themselves for their last day before the start of term. Eleanora laid her head down on the armrest of her chair and closed her eyes. Her head was aching from lack of sleep.

"Mrs. Weasley," said Harry suddenly. "Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?"

"Hedwig, dear?" said Mrs. Weasley distractedly. "No . . . no, there hasn't been any post at all." Ron and Hermione looked curiously at Harry. With a meaningful look at both of them he said, "All right if I go and dump my stuff in your room, Ron?"

"Yeah . . . think I will too," said Ron at once. "Hermione?"

"Yes," she said quickly, and the three of them marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Eleanora snorted derisively, eyes still shut.

"What?" Bill said, watching her from the couch.

Eleanora opened her eyes and gave him a sleepy smile. "Those three," she said vaguely.

"What about them?"

"They think they're so smooth." She closed her eyes again.

"What do you think they're up to?"

She made a non-committed noise and brushed her hair from her eyes. "Who knows, it's always something, isn't it?"

Bill leaned his head back, crossing his arms over his chest. "It always is."

The day crawled along slowly, every minute feeling like five. The twins, Bill, Charlie, and Eleanora, all joined Harry and Ron in the field for a quidditch game, but it didn't last long. Everyone was too tired to try very hard, and it didn't help that Eleanora, Charlie, and Harry were all on the same team. After several easy wins, they trooped back to the house to relax before dinner. Percy joined them after work, looking absolutely exhausted.

"It's been an absolute uproar," he told them importantly. "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders."

"Why are they all sending Howlers?" asked Ginny, who was mending her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi with Spellotape on the rug in front of the living room fire.

"Complaining about security at the World Cup," said Percy. "They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks."

Mrs. Weasley looked at her grandfather clock with worry. The hand that represented Mr. Weasley still pointed to "work."

"Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You-Know-Who," she said. "They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."

"Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" said Percy. "If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first —"