"Arthur! Arthur, urgent message from the Ministry!"

A pained groan sounds from the back of my throat, and I hug the pillow closer over my face. It seems as though neither Charlie nor I are fit to drink at the capacities we used to in our late teens.

"Delphina, you're needed as well!"

Molly tugs me off the couch, sending her second-oldest son flying to the ground. She mutters a quick apology and pulls me to the fireplace across the room.

". . .Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-do-you-call-'ems — please-men. Arthur, you've got to get over there —"

Amos Diggory's head bobs in the middle of the flames like a large, bearded egg. Mr. Weasley jots down notes of everything he says.

"— it's a real stroke of luck, I heard about it. I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot all setting off. If Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one, Arthur —"

"Mr. Diggory, is there any purpose for my presence?" I interrupt the rambling man.

"It regards Mad-Eye, Delphina." He tells me. "Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says he was creeping toward the house but was ambushed by his dustbins."

"What did the dustbins do?" Mr. Weasley inquires frantically.

"Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell. Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the please-men turned up —"

"Where is the intruder now?"

"Delphina, you know Mad-Eye the best out of us all." He huffs a breath. "Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there's a very shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot got their hands on Mad-Eye, he's had it. Think of his record! We've got to get him off on a minor charge, something in your department, Arthur. What are exploding dustbins worth?"

"Might be a caution." Mr. Weasley furrows his brows.

"Did he use his wand at all?"

"I'll be he leapt out of bed and started jinxing everything he could reach through the window, but they'll have a job proving it. There aren't any casualties."

The memories of last night's drinking flashes through my mind like a roll of Muggle film, and I curse at no one in particular for allowing myself to drink so carelessly.

Mr. Weasley stuffs the parchment with his notes on it into his pocket and dashes out of the kitchen once again.

"Have you notified Nymphadora of the situation?"

"Yes, she says she'll meet you and Arthur at the Ministry."

"Thanks, Mr. Diggory."

"Of course. And sorry for bothering you so early in the morning."

I leave for Ginny's bedroom, where the girls are only starting to get ready for the day.

"What's happened?" Hermione sits up in her makeshift cot. "Delphina, we don't have to be at King's Cross for another hour or so."

I shove the slippers off my feet and slip into proper shoes. "Mad-Eye says someone tried to break into his house last night."

"Is he alright?" Ginny brushes her strands of red hair.

"From afar, yes." I fasten a jacket over my shoulders. "He's been getting really paranoid since retiring. Trusts only a few wizards here and there and sees dark wizards everywhere."

Charlie barges into the bedroom, sending the three girls shrieking and flying to cover themselves up with anything.

"Charlie, can't you knock?" Ginny shrills at the top of her lungs.

The brooding man chooses to ignore his only sister. "Della, are you leaving with Dad?"

"I have to." I button up the rest of the jeans. "Dora's meeting me and Mr. Weasley there and. . .I don't know what to expect."

"What about. . ."

His eyes shift to Hermione and Ginny, who silently eavesdrop while readying themselves for the train ride ahead.

"I'll be there by tonight."

He simply nods, not knowing what else to say. "Ginny, Hermione, Mum's ordered three Muggle taxis to take us to London. Dad tried to borrow Ministry cars, but there aren't any to spare."

"I'll be right back."

I glance at the girls before pushing Charlie out into the narrow hallway. With a swift kick, the door shuts behind me, sounding a loud thud.

"Mad-Eye's notorious for being a nutter — not my words. . ." My hand grazes over his broad chest. "But something tells me it's not just his paranoia acting up again."

His fingers hover just over my cheek. "You'll be careful, won't you?"

"I always am, aren't I?"

A sad sigh leaves my lips as I realize the reason behind his upsetting words: once he helps Molly take the kids to Hogwarts. . .he'll be going back to Romania.

"It's alright. I'll be back soon."

"What for?'

"For the. . ."

The pesky feeling of someone else silently present in the conversation, and Charlie smirks towards the door of the twins' bedroom.

"You've been caught, Fred."

"You as well, George."

The two exit the room, shoving glasses stolen from the kitchen downstairs behind their back so we wouldn't see.

"What lovely weather we're having, don't you think, George?"

"Oh, splendid indeed, Fred."

I squint my eyes in their direction and feign a Mum Weasley pose — hands fisted against my hips and lips tightened into a thin line.

The two scurry off downstairs for breakfast.

"She's worse than Mum!"

"You'd think she'd birthed us herself!"

I turn back to Charlie just in time for him to loop his strong arms around my waist and pull me against him.

"One kiss wouldn't hurt, now, would it?"

His lips pucker suggestively, and I let out a short laugh.

"Last time you kissed me, we were drunk. And it was only because you wanted to try something with your best friend."

I remind him of the faithful night from our sixth year in Hogwarts when the Gryffindor Quidditch team had won the enormous silver Quidditch Cup.

"If I remember correctly, you were wearing a rather flimsy piece of fabric that barely covered your arse."

"It's called a skirt, Charlie."

His breath is warm against my ear, leaving a tingly sensation with every exhale.

"Regardless, we were far too drunk to be held responsible for what occured that night." He captures the back of my thigh in his hand and hooks it to his narrowed waist.

"I really should get going, Charlie."

"No one's stopping you, Della."

I hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Charlie merely smirks in victory, his elbows resting against the railing behind him.

On the tips of my toes, I peck the corner of his lips and hurry off.

"There's no more where that came from!"

"You're such a tease, Tonks!"