Kalon
/kA-lon/
(n.) Beauty that is more
than skin-deep
❝In the dark depth of her steel gaze, you can see the brightest of the stars.
She has magic in her eyes that even the stars envy.❞
"Blimey Fred, are you one of those anguished cursed poets now...
Shortly after Betelgeuse had fixed the gnomes problem, the group of teenagers heard the front door slam.
"He's back!" George exclaimed.
"Dad's home!" The Weasley children rushed through the garden and back into the house. Harry and Betelgeuse followed them with a more unhurried pace.
Mr Weasley was slumped in a kitchen chair with his glasses off and his eyes closed. Betelgeuse noted he was wearing long green robes, which were dusty and travel-worn.
"What a night," she heard him mumble, as they all sat down around him. "Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I had my back turned." Mr Weasley took a long gulp of tea and breathed.
"Found anything, Dad?" Fred inquired earnestly.
"All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle," Mr Weasley yawned. "There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness."
"Why would anyone bother making door keys shrink?" George asked.
"Just Muggle-baiting," Arthur lamented. "Sell them a key that keeps shrivelling to nothing so they can never locate it when they need it. Of course, it's difficult to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking — they'll declare they just keep losing it. Bless them, they'll go to any lengths to disregard magic, even if it's staring them in the face. But the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't guess —"
"LIKE CARS, FOR INSTANCE?" Mrs Weasley had appeared from nowhere. Betelgeuse sighed, exasperated as Fred nudged her, smiling.
Mr Weasley's eyes flung open. He gawked guiltily at his wife. "C-cars, Molly, dear?"
"Yes, Arthur, cars," Mrs Weasley responded, her eyes flashing. "Imagine a wizard buying a rotten old car and reassuring his wife all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, while really he was enchanting it to make it fly."
Mr Weasley blinked. "Well, dear, I believe you'll find that he would be quite within the law to do that, even if — er — he maybe would have done better to, um, tell his wife the truth. There's a loophole in the law, you'll discover. As long as he wasn't planning to fly the car, the fact that the car could fly wouldn't —"
"Arthur Weasley, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!" Mrs Weasley screamed. "Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information, Harry came this morning with the car you weren't aiming to fly!"
