As the young witch, Bobbie Granger, enters her seventh and final year at Hogwarts she anticipates her time to be full of secret parties in the common rooms, cheering for her friends at Quidditch matches, and studying endlessly for her N.E.W.T's.
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Bobbie sat on the worn in sofa of the Burrow, absentmindedly running her fingers through the grey fur of her car Jinx. He was growing like a weed and eating anything he could get his furry paws on, but he still had the adorable baby face and green eyes he had the day Bobbie and El picked him out at the shop.
The ground level of the Burrow remained intact after the attack, and for the time being, it housed most of the Weasleys. Everyone worked relentlessly to help Molly and Arthur charm the different stories of the house to mend them. Fred and George had been staying at Bobbie's cottage, which they knew she appreciated more than she led on. She had been so distracted since Remus left to go underground with the wolves.
Charlie was staying with Bill and Fluer in Bill's small flat in London, wanting to be close to home after Molly wrote to him regarding the attack. Percy Weasley (a sore subject to bring up around Molly) hadn't spoken to his family in nearly two years now.
The twins had offered a large sum of their earnings from the shop to help repair the family home. Bobbie, of course, contributed whatever gold she could spare, saying the Burrow was as much her home as anyone else's. It took days of convincing, but Molly and Arthur finally accepted the generous donations.
Ginny, Harry, Hermione, and Ron had returned to Hogwarts after the holiday break, but of course, not without trouble.
Ron had been in the hospital wing for days after drinking a poisoned glass of sherry, offered to him by the new potions Professor. Mrs. Weasley nearly went to the castle and plucked Ron out of there herself, had her husband not helped her come to senses.
Professor Slughorn had informed everyone that the bottle of sherry was given to him as a gift-one that he was meant to deliver to Dumbledore. Harry reckoned that is an attempt by none other than Draco Malfoy, convinced Voldemort had given him the task of killing Dumbledore.
Bobbie didn't believe this theory to be far fetched in the slightest, despite everyone else's opinion. Molly reasoned that the boy was too young, and that Narcissa Malfoy wouldn't dare allow her son to become a Death Eater.
"If you pet that cat anymore feverishly I reckon he'll get bald spots," Fred laughed as he plopped next to his friend on the sofa.
Bobbie peered down toward her grey cat, silently apologizing for petting him so roughly while she was in her train of thought.
"Best not to make fun of her, Freddie. She's been training with El recently and she uses Mad-Eye's boot camp method!" George stated as he jumped into the arm chair across from them.
"How is Burton, by the way? Feel like I haven't seen that git in ages," Fred sighed, drawing his arms behind his head.
"She's good," Bobbie smiled thoughtfully. "Happy for sure."
