Penelope Clearwater

Mum,

Look, it's not that I wouldn't love to see you. It's just--not a good time, right now. Percy's working all sorts of hours and so am I, and by the time we get home we're both too knackered to do much besides a little reading and then fall right to sleep.

And there was this big project I was doing for Mr Powell and I realised halfway through it that I accidentally crossed two columns of notations and--well. It wasn't easy to fix. I was working on it when he asked to see how things were coming along, and of course I was trying to get it fixed before he needed it, but instead I had to explain and--well, the short version is that I'll have to work this weekend, probably, to get it done.

I mean, I really appreciate your offer to come in some afternoon and cook and all. It's just that right now that would be a waste of your time.

But.

I think I could use one of the enchanted crockery pots, if you could spare one. That way I could throw something together in the morning or the night before and it'd be done (and perfect) when we got in. It'd save us on takeaway and particularly it'd save me his look of disappointment when it's oatmeal or fried eggs or beans on toast again. Not that he minds, much, it's just that he always compares things to the way his mum cooks. You know.

And--about the holidays. Well, it's a little early to know exactly what we'll be invited to go to or not. But obviously, his family will want Christmas Day. I thought maybe I'd come round on Christmas Eve for an hour or two, after work, to say hello and give you and Dad your presents. All right?

Not that it'll be much. The landlord mentioned just yesterday (as it was the first) that he might have to raise the rent in January. Just by two Galleons a month but still--that'll probably take care of all the money we were trying to saving for a new lounger. (The second-hand one we found when we moved in just developed a tear in the upholstery on the arm, and reparo isn't keeping it sewn shut.)

Well, I've got to get back to sorting out these mixed-up notations. Let me know about the cookpot? And maybe we can get together the week after next, all right?

-Penny

Mum,

Saw that you tried to Floo while we were out. Sunday nights, remember? Another command performance for his mum.

And no, don't worry, he knows why we don't ever have supper with you and Dad. It's okay.

Mrs W really is a good cook. I did ask her tonight for the recipe for her casseroles (even though you know how I feel about casseroles!) and that seemed to make her light up a bit. Only I wish that they didn't expect us every week! And particularly as it seems like she's always got a thousand little chores for Percy to do when we're there. Like milking the goats. The man's working for the third most important wizard in the Protectorate and his mother makes him milk goats on his day off, for Merlin's sake!

Well, I know he doesn't mind doing it. It's one of the things that makes him so good. But still, I wish sometimes that the 'family tradition' didn't come with so much baggage.

But it's okay. It really is. I told you before I just love his brother Bill and his dad's an all right sort. If a bit hen-pecked, maybe, though he obviously really loves Mrs W. (That's not a comment on you and Dad, either.)

And don't make a big deal about the message from Antonin Dolohov. Percy explained that he's an old family friend of Mr Malfoy's so he took an interest, since Percy's been so helpful and Mr Malfoy told Professor Dolohov so. He's the one who sent his elf that afternoon, I told you. Oh, Mum, having that elf here was so wonderful - we didn't even know where to start! and then it seemed like we had masses we could have asked it for. Of course, it's ever so much more efficient than a mudblood but if ours will be even half as much help it'll be amazing. I'm hoping by this time next year we can manage it.

But the one thing Professor Dolohov did I kinda wish he hadn't done was give Perce this book. It's got meditations (he's read a few aloud to me) and he's spending a few minutes on them every night (like right now) and they're sort of annoying. He said that Professor Dolohov said that they'll get better. (But that they get worse first.)

Everything else is fine. Working hard - both of us - but it's okay. And the job's going well. Mr Powell's working on a big project this month, so I have some good opportunities to show him how much I've learned of his systems and the cross-checking spells and the charting cantrips he's been teaching me.

If Dad's going round the pub on Friday, why don't you come here and see the flat?

Mum,

You're so right. It's been absolutely liberating to have a place of our own. And I know what Dad thinks but you're right about that, too: Getting out of there is the best thing I could've done. I wish you could do, too, but I know you won't so let's not worry about it.

The thing is...setting up a household? It's a little more expensive than either of us realised. I guess I thought the Weasleys would send him off with a little more furniture (his mum thought she had a kitchen table in the attic but it turns out the legs were sawed off by the twins years ago to make toy brooms) and she's trying to help through the barter network but...not very successfully. And I went shopping for a sofa and some other things, second-hand, but even second-hand they're all pricey.

Of course, we're very grateful for the silverplate, and we're using it all the time, and the linens, of course, and all the kitchen things, between you and Mrs Weasley. But what we really need is a proper kitchen table, some proper chairs and things, and a bit more dosh for incidentals. Oh, I did take the open container of Mrs Skower's. But every day it seems like we discover something else that we had at home and don't have here, like bins, or a coat rack near the door (there's no proper cupboard), dishes, and so on.

It's almost too much to think how many household presents Sandoval will be raking in today, when she doesn't want for a thing! But I don't think waiting to get married first would have been a good idea, really. For one thing, Percy and I don't want to get married yet. I'm not sure I want to get married at all But for another, you know, it would have taken so much longer to get away from Dad. And honestly I think if I'd had to live with you both for another week I'd've used the Cardinals, much less the months it would take to prepare a wedding!

Okay, I'm kidding. Sort of. You know how he gets, that's all I'm saying.

Well, the point is, we're both great, and living here is great, and being flat-mates is snitch. But if there's any way you could loan me, say, 50Γ? I can pay it back in a couple months, once I've built up a reserve out of my pay.

Oh, speaking of that, work's going well. Mr Powell is very precise but really interesting. And I think I'm making headway on convincing him that I'm trainable!

I think Percy's working late most nights this week, so let me know if Dad goes round the pub and I'll pop over by Floo, all right?

So much love,

Penny