She told me to stay put, Pete was away on business but she was free. "Don't a go anywhere", she commanded me in her heavy husky accent, "I'm a coming ...o you now."An hour later she turned up. She came in and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and a brief hug for consolation. I made a cup of tea and we sat down in the lounge next to each other on the sofa.She was a brunette in her mid 40s, about 5 feet 5 and she had a prettiness about her face and eyes when she smiled. Her figure, which I had. The news of his daughter's death, had, if anything, hit Arthur Weasley harder than it had his wife. As Hermione and Imogen did the dishes, the head of the Weasley clan sat motionless in his favorite chair in the living room, the same chair in which he'd sat with his little girl playing on his knee. To outward appearances, Mr. Weasley looked like a man subjected to a Dementor's kiss, except for the silent tears rolling down his face.Harry and Ron were outside with Fred and George, trying to find. More

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