During the summer holidays, the Harrises all tried to gather together in the evenings after work, because once the Hogwarts renovation plan, along with Fleur and Albert's wedding and all the other details, went into full swing, it would be hard for them to assemble this neatly again.
At that moment, Morgan le Fay, who had not cooked personally but had left it to the House-elves, leaned back on the sofa. She closed her eyes, reached up, and kept kneading her somewhat stiff neck. She sighed. "I really am getting old. The slightest little thing leaves me exhausted... Lately I've felt tired so easily."
Hearing this, Allen, who was nearby, set down the report Lenn had given him and looked at the weary Morgan le Fay. "Mother, have you run into something difficult to deal with?"
"It's the International Confederation of Wizards. They sent a statement... Oh, don't worry, Allen, it doesn't even count as a protest or warning. They merely expressed concern over the television programs recently approved for broadcast by the Television Station under my management... But I spent a long time thinking about how to write the reply. The wording couldn't be too forceful, but it couldn't be too weak either." Morgan le Fay drained the lemonade beside her in one go, then, still unsatisfied, picked up the lemon slice from the glass, put it into her mouth, and slowly chewed it. She gave a comfortable sigh, leaned back, and sank completely into the sofa, relaxing her somewhat stiff shoulders, neck, and back. "Your father thinks that before our true purpose is inevitably exposed, we should do our best to lower their guard, so our programs can continue operating normally abroad for as long as possible. The wording and tone needed for that really took some thought..."