Night had fallen,
The Burrow was brightly lit, a stark contrast to the cold darkness outside.
The rich aromas of roast chicken, gravy, and fresh bread filled the air, yet they could not suppress another, more tense atmosphere.
Arthur sat beside the dining table, the food before him barely touched.
Unmistakable exhaustion lined his face. The knuckles of the hand gripping his knife and fork were slightly pale, and the third edition of today's The Daily Prophet lay at his side, its front page featuring a somewhat stiff photograph of him.
Sitting across from him was his third son, Percy, who had not returned home for a long time.
He wore the standard black robes of the Ministry of Magic, every button at his collar fastened precisely. He sat perfectly upright, as though he were still in the office.
There was a newspaper in front of him as well, but his gaze rested on his father Arthur's face. Behind his lenses, his eyes held confusion and deep thought.
With her back to both father and son, Molly busied herself at the stove, stirring a pot of thick soup.
Percy's sudden return home had delighted her beyond measure, but Arthur's unusual silence and the strange atmosphere brought by that newspaper made her heart grow heavier and heavier.
"The Ministry's arrangements... are always unexpected." Arthur finally broke the silence, trying to explain his promotion.
Percy adjusted his glasses but did not respond immediately.
As the Minister's Assistant, he was far too familiar with how the Ministry of Magic operated, and far too familiar with Fudge's way of doing things.
Making such a huge spectacle of his father Arthur's "heroic deeds" was definitely meant to conceal something major.
"I heard," Percy said in a lowered voice, making sure only his parents at the