Order Only: Swamped at work, as usual

[alt_arthur]

Just a very brief journal entry, since I’m simply buried in reports.

Alice and Frank, I’ve not been able to find Felicia Saint's parents to make her birthday report to them, although my visit with Louis Barton's family went off without a hitch last week. I did locate Mrs Saint's sister, who thinks the girl's parents were transferred to another camp further north, perhaps in Lancashire. I'll start with checking the camp rosters at Chorley and South Ribble. The Ministry, of course, cannot be bothered in the least with keeping relatives informed when they shift Muggles around the country to fill work orders. There's no reason for alarm, though: if I don’t locate them within the week, we can always resort to using the locator charm on little Felicia’s sketch of her parents.

Other than that, there is not much to report, except I'm being driven half-mad by requisition requests for labour from the Department of Magical Games and Sports, of all things. There's some worry that the stadium won’t be completed in time for this August's Quidditch Cup Finals otherwise. Why a new stadium must be built and then torn down again for the event each summer is beyond me, but it seems that local pride means that every District has to compete to host the event, and once a site is chosen, Merlin forbid that a stadium ever be reused. Why bother, when there is all this free labour available to slave away under the hot sun, just to ensure that we wizards can sit in comfort to cheer for our favourite teams?

Molly has a dreadful cold that she simply hasn't been able to shake. I think the Pepperup Potion she got from the local apothecary is adulterated, black market rubbish, probably; she dosed herself last night but got barely a wisp of steam coming from her ears.

In other news, Geoffrey Dunstan remains as insufferable a git as always. Warrington is even worse. I am sure you are all astonished.

(Upon reading this over, I realise that I do sound rather uncharacteristically cross. Sorry, all. It has been a difficult week. Molly and I are worried about Percy and—well, never mind. I hope to recover my good cheer over a slice of Molly’s apple crumble tonight. Though I doubt I'll get home to enjoy it before midnight.)

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[alt_poppy]

I'm very sorry to hear that Molly's feeling so poorly.

I wish it were safe to send her an owl with a bottle or two of Pepper Up, but there are strange things afoot here. There are reports that that castle is being watched and news from Hogsmeade of odd folk who suddenly turn up then disappear as suddenly. These days, people grow edgy with little provocation, I know, and it's easy enough to imagine you've glimpsed something looming down a dark alleyway--especially after a pint or six in the pub. But there are other things, too. Pomona thinks some of her letters have not arrived at their destinations, and I've heard that some of the school owls have gone out and not returned in recent weeks.

I hate that the best I can do is suggest lemon and honey in piping hot tea (with a bit of ginger in, if you have any). Tell Molly that if she'll steep the tea on the ledge of an east-facing window and swirl the tea carefully in the pot three times as it brews, it will make its aromatic properties more robust. My mother had it from her mother and then taught me that as a healing tea brews, one ought to intone, 'Arrive, Strive, Revive!' It's not a proper incantation, of course, and I suspect it works best if one believes it will, but sometimes these things seem worth trying.

Do, at all costs, tell Molly that I hope she feels very much better soon.

[alt_frank]

sounds like you had a rough day of it, mate. hope today is a good sight better. I'd buy you a lager if I could. or a nice belt of firewhiskey. Merlin, I miss going to pubs.

keep us posted on the Saints.

[alt_arthur]

It's been too long since I've been out to a pub myself.

Molly's been talking about coming to see you all when Ginny's off to school next year. I wonder if I might be able to take a long weekend at the same time, if you would be willing to put us both up, perhaps? I certainly have enough holiday time accrued, since I hardly ever use it.

I'll bring the firewhiskey. Or if the firewhiskey's out (and supplies certainly are hit or miss, these days) we can bring some lager, or at least a few pints of Molly's home-brewed cider.

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[alt_molly]

Thanks, I will try that, Poppy. I do have a good supply of honey and ginger, at least, even if lemons are as dear as Ashwinder eggs.

I have no voice at all today, which Ginny and Luna find vastly humourous. Ginny seems to be taking a certain delight in mothering her mum and made some chicken soup for my lunch. (Arthur, there's plenty left over for your dinner, dear, and it's quite good. Be sure to tell her so; it'll make her quite happy! I'm glad you'll have a hearty meal waiting for you when you get home, even though I'm not up to making it myself.)

I find I'm a little shaky, and once Ginny's fixed me the pot of tea, I think I shall crawl back into my bed to drink it.

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[alt_poppy]

Have you tried Sonorus on your voice? It'll make you sound like an Erumpent trumpeting, more than likely, but it will give you some sound at least.


And I expect Ginny would find it very amusing! That is unless you decide she needs shouting at, and then you'll scare the poor girl silly!

[alt_frank]

that would be brill. besides, you lot are used to having kids running all over the place.

[alt_arthur]

Indeed we are. It will certainly cheer us both up if we could come visit. I'm sure Molly will not quite know what to do with herself at first once her last chick goes off to Hogwarts.