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(Adriana) Oops
Author: Bill Weasley
Date: 09-04-13 17:56
It was midmorning when a bleary-eyed Adriana stumbled out of her room. Her foot caught on something and she nearly fell. When she gazed down, she saw the lifeless body of a man facedown on the ground. He wore only jeans and his bare skin, beneath which blood flowed no longer, nevertheless retained a summer glow.
Adriana nudged him with her foot, testing for a pulse even though she knew there was none. She drew her foot away and then moved to the next room.
Various of her followers were passed out, some in chairs, others on the floor. A streak of lipstick ran across Malarie's cheek. Ivanova cradled a bottle of vodka in his arm. Meadow twitched in her sleep and seemed to have vomit caked in her hair. The rest lay in various states around the room, some looking more innocent in sleep than others. It looked like the aftermath of an amazing party, and then Adriana remembered how they had spent the previous evening.
They had randomly selected the bar, put the SORRY, WE'RE CLOSED sign in the window, and attacked without preamble. They were quick to stop anyone from using their mobiles to call for help, allowing the Death Eaters to terrorize the place without unwanted interruptions. They spent the rest of the evening playing with their victims and drinking every last drop of liqour in the building.
Perhaps they had had a little bit too much fun, Adriana reasoned, since large chunks of her memory appeared to be missing. She left the room and ran into Hattie, who did not look very amused.
"What's the matter, cutie?" Adriana asked, ruffling Hattie's hair. "Upset we didn't let you play with the grownups last night?"
Hattie jerked her head away and smoothed down her hair. "No, I'm too old for that kind of debauchery."
Adriana threw back her head and laughed uncontrollably. "It's funny, because you look like a tween. Boy, it must really suck to be an old lady stuck in a little boy's body!"
Hattie's scowled deepened. "I said I was too old for last night's antics, but I'm NOT an old lady."
"Really? You've got to be at least in my parents' generation," Adriana said, tilting her head as she guestimated Hattie's true age. "Oh, well." She wanted to reach out and tweak Hattie's chin but she refrained. "So, what's the problem?"
"You made a huge mistake last night."
"That's not entirely impossible," Adriana admitted. "I can't remember half the things I did last night. Did I kill that guy who looks like a model outside my room?"
Hattie waved off the question and indicated for Adriana to follow her to the holding cell which had lastly held Berthold Beatenberg. Hunched over and bound to a chair was a twenty-something man. He appeared to be breathing.
"Is that it? We left one alive?" Adriana asked.
"No," Hattie said, moving to a small table against the wall containing what looked like a leather wallet and a wand. Hattie picked up the wand and asked, "What would a Muggle be doing in a Muggle bar with a wizard's wand?"
Adriana scrunched up her forehead. "Is this a joke? A Muggle walks into a bar with a wand… Oh…," she added, as realization dawned.
She walked up to the man and grabbed his head by his hair, raising it so she could see his face. He wasn't anybody she recognized, and by his dress, she couldn't make the assumption that he wasn't a Muggle. He knew how to coordinate, and plenty of wizards didn't when it came to Muggle clothes.
"His wallet has Muggle money, but there are some sickles and knuts in with the coins," Hattie went on. "What in Merlin's name do you think that means?" she asked, the sarcasm heavy in her voice.
Adriana ignored Hattie's insubordination, her thoughts still somewhat dulled from the excess of alcohol she'd imbibed the previous night.
She looked at the man and slapped him hard across the face. It did the trick and roused him from his slumber.
"What's your name?" she asked, "And who are you really?"
Saint Tropez: Another Bellatrix Interruption
Author: Lucius Malfoy
Date: 09-04-13 18:56
"Lucius, we need your What are you doing?"
"Do you ever knock or wait to be announced?"
"You know very well I do."
"You do?"
"Now and then."
"Then sounds about right."
Bellatrix grabs one of the cards Lucius is studying. "Please tell me you aren't going to paint this room pink."
"I'm not going to paint this room pink. Is carnation better or rose? And if rose, regular rose, pale rose, French rose, deep rose, Persian rose, rose pink, or this one called blush rose?"
"They're all pink. What does it matter?"
"It matters because I am making a decision concerning Carina."
"Redoing her room? Again?"
"Birthday celebration planning."
"Her birthday is at the end of July."
"What is your point?"
"Aren't you being excessive?"
"I hardly think that planning my only daughter's birthday is being excessive; but, then, you have no children of your own."
"I could have done. Before Azkaban or after. And when my husband was not incarcerated separately. I was simply too busy with other, highly important matters."
"Good thing too as you'd have likely eaten them by now," Lucius says sotto voice.
Not low enough though as Bellatrix bristles. "That's a low blow." After a pause she laughs heartily. "Low blow but you are most likely correct."
"Carnation or rose?"
"Pink is pink."
"Pink is not just pink. As someone who has a brightly pink house in Venice and who once hexed Charlie Weasley to wear shades of pink, a hex that lasted at least a year, I should think you'd be more open to the color."
"I hexed him to wear pink because I very much dislike the color."
"Yet the hot pink Venetian manse."
Bellatrix gives an exasperated sigh and taps a blood red painted fingernail on the card of the color Lucius had termed regular rose. "This one. All right? Can we move along now?"
Ignoring her he studies the card and holds it next to the color called pale rose. "Yes, good choice. The regular rose and pale rose, as the two go well together. The seamstress will be free to pull a few other colors in for the outfit but these will be predominant."
"Seamstress? Outfit?"
Lucius shoves an open book at her, a book she'd not noticed previously. "Carina has taken quite a fancy to this Muggle depiction of a summer fairy. I'm having her a copy made in pinks because she wishes to have pink at her party."
Bellatrix makes a rather rude sound. "I cannot believe Lucius Malfoy is having Muggle costumes made."
"It is for Carina. Also, I should point out that even the most die hard anti-Muggle witches and wizards tend to wear clothing at times that are either Muggle inspired or copies of Muggle wear, even if hidden by their robes."
She makes a face and waves a hand as if clearing the air of a bad smell. "Fine. Fine. I shan't argue over the matter. I have far more pressing issues."
"Do tell," Lucius says, unable to keep the slight tone of boredom from his voice.
"First, do you think Gudrun Landvik is ready to be introduced to Fairchild? Second, who should I next awaken from the Dementor's Kiss?"
Lucius tries to think of the names of Voldemort supporters who were subjected to such a fate. At length he replies, "Goyle's cousin. What was his name?" With a snap of his fingers he says, "Archibald! I believe that if not for his untimely encounter with a Dementor, he would have received the Dark Mark."
Bellatrix's brow crinkles. "I though he had passed away years ago."
"No, the family had him move to private care. His wife thought it déclassé to have him on ward care."
"Hmmm. Yes, I shall have to consider him. And Gudrun?"
"She seems somewhat caught up on world events since being Kissed."
"I sense one of those unspoken buts."
"But the woman is mental."
Bellatrix gives that hearty laugh of hers again. "Aren't we all, Lucius? Aren't we all?"
Skeeter's Next Victim: And a Missing Husband?
Author: Karma Davyd
Date: 09-04-13 19:57
Karma Davyd: Drunkard, Abusive and Kidnapper!!
The headline on the Daily Prophet screamed out in thick bold letters. Cursing lightly, I read through the article. Every word of the article dripped scathing lies, okay, so the hang over was true, and my mother being punched – also true. However, that final accusation was beyond insane. That woman seriously needed to be removed from normal society, or at least made to pay for the slander she spews.
I knew I would be fielding questions from my students, and I was not sure I was ready for that. Perhaps it would have been better if I'd taken the remainder of the term off and be at home with my daughters and husband. However, no matter where I was, it would not have kept Skeeter from writing this garbage and it getting published. It was, in truth only a matter of time before my life was dragged through the mud. As it was, parents had dealt with the hangover earlier in the year and now this? Bringing it up again.
After my classes, I sighed, leaning back in my chair. I wasn't ready to deal with this, but unfortunately, I couldn't avoid it. Pulling the copy of the paper to me, I looked over the article, sighing.
There was question if I was a drunkard, seriously? I overindulged once and paid for it the day after. I drank nothing more than tea or coffee since then, and I am careful when there is an indulgence. As for the abusive charge, that was preposterous. My mother, a vial woman who had perhaps not deserved to get punched, but none the less she had been by Desdemona Diamond, a very good friend of mine.
Then there was the accusation that I'd acquired my two eldest daughters through illegal means, and that the adoption was merely a cover for kidnapping. This, was not what I needed to deal with this morning. Dexter had gone out last night, and had not made it home. I was worried, it wasn't like him to be gone for too long without sending word that he was going to be late or something held him up.
At least the children slept, with the only interruptions being the normal for Nuri to be fed, and one brief accident with KJ, who was soon tucked in clean pjs and back beneath her blankets. Finally, I'd gotten all three children up, and they were soon playing in the living room with Easton, while I'd explained to Fia what was going on, and the fact that Driver hadn't come home last night. They'd agreed to watch the kids for as long as necessary, and they would be doing what they could should no one hear from Dexter by this evening.
"I'm going to at least try and focus on my classes, but with the drivel that Skeeter posted coupled with the fact that my husband has not even bothered to owl me or come home since he left last night. I highly doubt I'll be able to focus on anything."
Fia nodded and hugged me tightly. "We'll keep the children. I will let everyone else know while you are up at the castle. I'll see if maybe Dex crashed at Ember and Cameron's, or Etch's. Do you know where he went?"
I shook my head. "No, though there is a chance he may have gone over to Driver's bar. Anyone know if Driver was working last night?"
"More than likely Driver was working last night, so Dex may have crashed at the apartment if he didn't think he'd make it home. I'll send Easton over to check out the apartment."
"Alright. I'm going to go talk to Professor McGonagall, and see if I can dodge questions from my students and my co-workers."
Fia nodded and hugged me tightly before I headed out of the house after giving my children a hug. The walk to the castle seemed like it was five hundred miles and eventually I made it up to Professor McGonagall's office, and shortly after I was leaving the castle, and Professor Binns would be covering my classes for the remainder of the week. It would no doubt make things look worse because I was taking time off after a scathing article about me in the Daily Prophet, but finding my husband safe and sound was one hundred times more important to me than dealing with the drivel and lies that Rita Skeeter has managed to print. I would deal with the backlash later – for now I wanted to know why the hell my husband never made it home last night.
After Meeting with the Headmistress
Author: Cloris Mockridge
Date: 09-05-13 10:50
Cloris adjusted her hat as she left the Headmistress' office of Hogwarts. A part of her hoped to spot her granddaughter between classes, but she did not want to be a distraction, so she could wait until the end of term if necessary. It had been a surprise to receive the letter from McGonagall, but the more Cloris had considered the proposal, the more she liked it.
Meeting today had finalized the details and the Mockridge matriarch was more than pleased with what had been decided. She would be arriving before the students on September first, and while she was choosing to not live in the castle full time, because of her various other projects and responsibilities, she would be staying during the week and then returning to the Mockridge Dower for weekends, or if there were other things she needed to see to. After all, even the education of the next generation of Britain's Witches and Wizards could not deter her wholly from her fundraising work and societal obligations.
She had just exited the front doors when the call of "Grandmother!" caught her attention. Turning to the side, she smiled as Valeria approached from the greenhouses, walking rapidly but not running because she had been taught that it was not proper to go running about if there was not a decidedly good reason.
"Valeria, my darling, how are you? Are you done with your classes for the day?"
"Yes, Grandmother, we just finished Herbology," Valeria said, gesturing toward where Petula, Anton and Titus stood waiting for her. "Now we were going to head to the common room to study for exams."
"An excellent use of your time. But do not work too hard. I have confidence you will each do well on your exams, and I shall see you after term ends. Perhaps we can have a tea for you and your friends at the Dower, since your Aunt is working now."
"That would be lovely, Grandmother," Valeria answered.
"Then I shall see you soon. And I can tell you my own news after term ends," the elder witch said with a slightly mischievous smile. When Valeria rejoined her friends, she watched them for a moment before resuming her path toward the gates so she could apparate back to the Dower. She still had to plan her annual fundraiser, from choosing her charity for this year to the menu and guest list, and she would need to refine her syllabus and choose her texts before the school letters went out.
(Ariella) Winding Down
Author: Beck
Date: 09-06-13 16:54
Ariella stepped out of the bathroom she shared with Lawrence and padded over to their bed, dressed in pink pajama bottoms and a matching camisole. Her red hair was in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She pulled back her side of the covers and climbed into bed, propping up her pillows behind her back so that she could sit comfortably and read for a little while.
Lawrence, seated similarly beside her, was deeply engrossed in his own book. Ariella peeked at the cover and smiled. Always something about plants when it came to her husband. In this case, he read a mystery novel in which the killer, who happened to be a herbologist, used poisonous plants to off all his victims. Lawrence only had a few more chapters to go, and Ariella didn't doubt that he might try to stay up and finish them.
She planned on turning in very soon, but she wanted to get a little bit of reading in before she closed her eyes. Reading a book, even the most exciting of stories, always helped her wind down at the end of a day, especially the longest of days.
Today had been her first day in her new position at the Ministry of Magic. Ariella now worked in International Wizarding Communications in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Specifically, she worked in the Foreign Relations division as assistant to Representative Christiana Chadd.
She spent the day meeting a lot of her colleagues and others wizards in the various divisions comprising the department. Those who happened to be out of the country on business she would meet later. Besides meeting people, she received a crash course in her basic duties and learned what her new boss expected from her.
Ariella had felt a little overwhelmed, but also very excited. She knew in time she would feel more comfortable in her new role, but she had a lot to learn!
She reached for her book from the bedside table and opened it to where she had last left off reading.
Lawrence finally spoke. "Did you have a good first day?" he asked. "We didn't really get to talk much about it earlier."
Ariella turned to him and nodded her head. "It's a lot to take in, but I guess first days can be that way. I'm excited, though. I'm going to learn so much and visit some amazing places."
One of the perks that came with her new position was the opportunity to travel to other countries to meet with officials from their governments. Not that Ariella hadn't already done a bit of traveling, of course. Lawrence had taken her to many wonderful places. They had discussed maybe going somewhere this summer, but aside from possibly going on holiday for a weekend, Ariella thought it might be best to concentrate on work.
"I'm happy for you," Lawrence said. He leaned in to kiss her and then returned his attention to his riveting book.
Ariella felt happy too. She smiled to herself and then immersed herself in her own novel.
(Mockridge Townhouse) Sharing News
Author: Cassandra Catesby
Date: 09-07-13 04:01
Nephele hummed to herself as she finished writing out her observations on the vial of potion that sat on her desk. It was another experimental one, one of her first since she had accepted Pippin's idea of joining the Blackguard. She'd finally answered when they'd returned to London, after taking the time to be certain they could handle working together and their social relationship as well.
Cassandra waited until she had finished; she knew how absorbed her friend could get when working on her potions. When Nephele stopped humming and set her quill to one side, she said, "So how was Paris?"
"Paris was fabulous, as was Pippin," Nephele answered with a naughty grin. "How are the libraries? I'm glad to see you've finally surfaced for more than snogging my brother senseless," she teased.
Cass merely arched a brow and smiled enigmatically. "It doesn't take much to make your brother senseless," she said dryly. "He comes by it naturally."
"I'd argue that, but there's really no point," Nephele answered. "He does lack a certain bit of sense." The blonde smiled. "So catch me up, I've missed our chats."
"Surely you're the one with the greatest adventures, globe-trotter that you are," came the amused reply, but Cassandra readily took a seat.
"Did Kirley tell you about our visit to the castle?" she asked.
"I doubt you want all of the romantic details," Nephele teased, "but since we were just talking about snogging people senseless, I tried my own hand at that when we got to see La Medici's Potions Lab." The blonde paused for a moment then shook her head. "No, he said you went, but no details. Of course, I've been working too, I'm now officially the Potions Mistress for the Blackguard."
"Congratulations," Cass said, "now you get to mix business with pleasure."
She rested one hand lightly on the arm of the chair. "As for my own news, let's see... you know about the Skeeter articles. We went to see your mother, who did it appears give Callandra money for a certain project. She suggested we go to see Blaise Zabini, which we also did, but he did not know all that much. Apparently Phyllida visited Grimsay on her own. So we went to turn over Callandra's rooms at Catesby Castle to see if she had a hidey-hole."
"Which, naturally, she did, because that's such a Callandra thing to do," Nephele said. The blonde leaned back in her chair. "Just as giving money is such a Mother thing to do. Which reminds me. You'll likely have an invitation soon, depending on which cause she decides to champion this year. Remind me when it comes in and we'll go shopping, I owe you a birthday gift too, but that's off the subject, back to your sister and her hidey-hole."
Cassandra wrinkled her nose slightly at the thought of the invitation, mingling with the movers and shakers was not really her thing and she knew Nephele knew it too. Unfortunately, she'd probably have to accept. At least with the Mockridges there, the event would be amusing.
"Typical Callie hidey-hole," she said. "A blood safe concealed in the wall. I have to admit that I was wondering at one point if we'd trigger some sort of unpleasant jinx, but apparently not. Either that or she's saved those for elsewhere. We did have to run the gauntlet of some rather peculiar roses though."
Nephele perked up. "What sort of roses? Anything potentially useful from a potions standpoint?" she asked.
"We had to shut the window on them; they were climbing up the wall outside. There was something about their scent. Sort of drugging," Cass said slowly. "Kirley mentioned they reminded him of some your mother had."
Nephele wrinkled her nose. "Mother has a number of odd plants. I doubt they would be useful then, unless I want to make some sort of Confundus in a Jar..."
"Probably not. Merlin knows where Callie got them. But as Kirley pointed out, if she was involved with a Grimshaw-Spore, maybe that was the source. Not that there aren't plenty of weird plants at the castle already," Cassandra said.
"It's hard to tell. She could've gotten them from Mother herself, but Mother rarely parts with any part of those," Nephele said. "Grimshaw-Spore is probably the more likely source, I know Mother's mentioned him as a supplier herself in the past, though that was years ago."
Cass nodded. "And the connection between Callie and Phineus seems clear enough. When I broke the code she'd used for the journal we found in the safe, she refers several times to a G-S. I just wish I had some idea who the other initials referred to. It might be relevant."
"Well, given that she uses G-S for Phineus, it's fairly safe to assume any other initials would be last names. Perhaps we might find something we can look into on that front," Nephele suggested.
"Yes, although it may turn out to be a needle in a haystack search," her friend admitted. "None of the other initials were unusual ones. There was an R she was fairly disparaging about, and an L who I got the impression was probably a man."
"Wait a minute, I might have something on that," Nephele said, reaching into the lower drawer of her desk. She ignored the stack of folded parchment wrapped with a black ribbon and instead reached for some wrapped with a green one. "There's not much, I didn't keep everything, but if she wrote with something I thought might come up again, I tried to keep it."
"You must have piles of old letters," Cass said. "Are these all from Callie?"
"That stack, yes. And I don't correspond in depth with many. I have some from you, some regarding my potions work from Professor Snape, and maybe one or two others," Nephele said. "I mainly only kept things that I might need to reference later."
"That could suggest an obsessive streak, Neph," her friend said with a touch of amusement. "Have you found the one you're looking for?"
Nephele shrugged. "I do not like to be confused," she said. "I like to stay on top of things. And I think this might be it." She handed the parchment over to Cass.
Cass recognised her twin sister's bold script.
"Marc is quite charming, of course. Very French," she read aloud. She could almost hear her sister's lilting laugh as she did so. "We have had such fun together. Alas, he has started to become far too possessive. Why are all the handsome ones so prone to this? It is such a bore."
She paused and lowered the parchment slowly. "Marc, Marc... why does that ring a bell?" she mused. "I seem to recall her mentioning him in a letter to me too. Something about holidaying with him in the South of France, I think."
"That sounds about right to me as well," Nephele said. "Could he be the man she's referring to? The timing seems similar to what was in the Prophet about the experiments on Grimsay."
"It could be. Maybe we can find out what Marc's surname is?" Cass said. "If it is something beginning with L, that would interesting."
Nephele checked the rest of the letters. "Interesting and perhaps oddly convenient," she said, handing over the others that mentioned Marc.
"Too convenient?" Cass mused. "There's no telling that either L or R have anything to do with Rita Skeeter's articles. At least not yet. Whoever it is must know something about the project though." She paused. "Something, but maybe not all. Skeeter's accusations have been a little vague in places. If she had something juicier, I can't help suspecting that she would have used it by now."
"Unless she's been horribly distracted by writing twisted nonsense about Hogwarts professors. Although I hear some of what she's written is actually true," Nephele said with a shake of her head.
"So your mother was saying," Cass said, "and even some of the more apparently far-fetched stuff, maybe there is a grain of truth?"
She scanned quickly through the letters. "Hang on," she said, and read out, "the whole family is well named 'Lebeau'. Marc has only to smile and giddy girls sigh and fall at his feet. It is amusing to see them making such fools of themselves. He barely notices them, of course. Too easy and too boring."
"It's disturbingly possible," Nephele said. "Take that last article on Professor Morgan. Valeria told both Mother and I that the going to class hungover story was apparently true. Students were talking about it at the beginning of the school year, and Mother even wrote to McGonagall, expressing concern that Professor Morgan had lost the respect of the students."
The comment distracted Cassandra from her pondering about Marc Lebeau. "She was hungover in class?" she repeated disbelievingly. "Seriously? How in Merlin's name did she keep her job?"
"No idea. It was before Dumbledore died though, I think, and you know how he was about giving second chances. I can't see McGonagall allowing it to happen again though," Nephele said.
"No, neither can I," her friend agreed.
She returned to the letter. "Marc Lebeau. Lebeau is an L. And he's clearly male, which I thought L was," she said.
"It's not a lot to go on, but it's more than you had," Nephele said. "See, my tendency to save things is not a bad one."
Cass laughed. "Maybe not," she conceded, "and I can hardly point fingers with my love of old books if you choose to surround yourself with old letters."
Nephele laughed. "I hardly surround myself. I keep a few bits that may be useful for future reference. They don't even fill up my desk drawer." There was no point mentioning the undetectable expansion charm on said drawer.
Her friend merely arched a brow and cast her an amused, knowing look that said quite clearly she had her suspicions about said drawer.
"Thank you for the letters anyway," she said, handing them back to Nephele. "Now I just need to see if I can find a handsome French wizard called Marc Lebeau. It may lead nowhere, but..." She shrugged.
"It's worth checking out. Besides, you can always see if you can twist Kirley up and if there's a jealous streak in there," Nephele teased.
Cass gave her a distinctly wicked smile. "What an interesting thought," she said.
Nephele laughed. "I can't wait to see what you find out, just without a lot of details. Siblings and all," she said.
Student Healer
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 09-07-13 12:11
Student Healer Marco Cavendish had just finished his first three clinical rotations at St. Mungo's Hospital. Although not officially in term for the summer, Marco had applied for and been accepted into an internship program expected to last through the end of September. He was most interested in Spell Damage. There was something very interesting about the consequences of casting a spell incorrectly, or of the oddities that could happen from magical objects.
He followed Healer Weasley into the room of a patient, who had mistakenly opened a package that had been charmed so that only wizards of a certain family could open it. Thaddeus Wheatley knew that his neighbor's great grandmother baked the most delicious treats and mailed her family regular packages. Thaddeus, having a sweet tooth, simply couldn't stop himself from taking a sample from the Langley family's most recent sweets delivery.
True, he had done it four or five times already and the Langleys knew this and certainly didn't appreciate it. They had obviously taken measures into their own hands, and now Thaddeus was paying the price.
Giant, oozing pustules occupied every inch of his body. They were very painful and wouldn't go away, no matter the various treatments the healers tried on them. Even pain management didn't take. Thaddeus was miserable and looked almost unrecognizable under the unsightly, pulsating globules all over his face.
"We've tried all the antidotes we know," Healer Weasley explained to her intern, "and any research we've done to find other solutions hasn't led to anything useful. We've tried salves, a few charms, even chocolate! I think my next recommendation might be to lance them off one by one, either through magic or perhaps even the Muggle way. I'll have to do a little reading on it before we try anything, though, as will you if you're to assist me."
"All right," Marco said.
"In the meantime, we need to try to make Mr. Wheatley as comfortable as possible."
Healer Weasley fell silent and frowned at the patient in the hospital bed. Mr. Wheatley had been given a sleeping draught, but he slept fitfully. He had pustules on the back side of his body, as well as his front, and that made it difficult for him to lie comfortably. When the pustules burst, they emitted a foul odor and caused him even more pain.
"He'll need to be bathed once he wakes," Healer Weasley said. "The nurses will handle that, though." She flipped through Thaddeus's chart and then said to Marco, "We'll come back to him in an hour. Let's go next door and check on Mr. Quilter. He accidentally gave himself two left feet and can only walk in circles."
"That's an easy fix, isn't it?" Marco asked. "Charming a foot back to normal?"
"We'll soon find out," Healer Weasley said. She led him to the next room and to Mr. Quilter, who truly had two left feet and wasn't simply a bad dancer.