Post DH #6 . . . . . The pleasure of your company

Chapter 2

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                                                           Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley

                                                                Miss Ginny Weasley

                                                                        The Burrow

                                                                  Ottery St Catchpole

                                                                            Devon

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Arthur Weasley was just finishing his morning tea when an owl landed on the top edge of the bottom half of the kitchen door.  It hooted and stuck out its leg, from which dangled a pearl grey parchment envelope.

“Ah, good morning to you,” Arthur greeted the owl, as he stood and walked over to the door.  Grabbing an owl treat from a bowl on the counter, he offered it to the brown bird and then un-tied the string holding the envelope.

“Would you care for some water?  Those things look a bit on the dry side to me,” asked the patriarch of the Weasley clan.  The owl nodded, so Arthur tossed the envelope on the table and after filling a bowl, turned and held it until the owl had drunk his fill.  Hooting his thanks, the messenger-owl turned around and took flight. 

“Wonder what this is then,” mused Mr. Weasley as he regained his seat and turned the envelope over to check the front.

“What do you have there?” asked Molly Weasley, as she came into the kitchen, arms loaded with laundry to be done later that morning.  “Looks semi-important.”

“Well, let’s just see, shall we?”

Grabbing a knife, Arthur slit the thick fold and withdrew the contents.

“Ah, I suspected as much . . . it’s the invitation for Astoria and Draco’s wedding. . . October 11th.”

“Where?”

“Nottingham.”

“Really?”

“Apparently . . . but the reception is going to be at the Malfoy’s.”

“Well, the Manor is bigger than the Greengrass’s house, so I suppose that makes sense.”

“It’s addressed to you, me and also Ginny. . . we’ll have to check her Quidditch schedule and see if the team is playing that weekend .”

“That’s the second Saturday, isn’t it?  I think that’s a free weekend, if I’m remembering correctly.”  Molly waved her hand, dismissively. “We’ll worry about that later . . . more tea dear?”

“Yes, please.”

 Molly poured him another cup and then one for herself.  Sitting down next to her husband, she tilted her head as she saw the far away look in his eyes as he gazed out the window, cup held suspended, halfway to his mouth.

“Knut for you thoughts, dear.”

“What?  Oh . . . just ruminating a bit about how all of our lives have changed in the last five years . . . since the battle.”