Applewood crackled in the fireplace at the Holmes home.
Douglas Holmes casually tossed his trench coat to the coat rack.
The coat rack promptly extended two brass arms to catch it and automatically began steam-pressing it.
Then he sank deep into the soft sofa.
Wangcai the Niffler ran over from the Fortune Basin and nestled in Douglas's arms.
Dobby had recently been helping Douglas keep watch at Hogwarts and the Cave, so he was not home.
The little fellow had not seen shiny gold Galleons for days.
"Ring-! Ring-! Ring-!"
A black rotary telephone rang.
At that moment, its receiver was bouncing wildly on its cradle, like a rooster struggling in its death throes with its neck gripped tight.
The rune array beneath the telephone's base flashed an urgent red, indicating that the caller's emotional index had gone off the charts, along with the source of the signal that had traveled across half of Europe-Romania.
This was a telephone Douglas had specially modified. Not only could it make and receive Muggle calls, but it could also connect to certain special forms of communication in the wizarding world.
One look at the signal's origin told Douglas who was calling.
But having guessed what the call was about, he had not yet worked out how to answer.
So he leisurely poured himself a glass of whisky.
Only when the telephone rang for the eighth time did he pick it up.
But rather than put the receiver to his ear, he had the foresight to hold it at a distance, casually casting a "Muffliato" filtering charm on himself as well.
"DOUGLAS HOLMES!!!"
Even from half a meter away, the roar coming from the receiver made the crystal chandelier tremble slightly.
The voice carried the roars of dragons, the howling cold winds of the