Undersecretary for the Minister of Magic Hermione Granger-Weasley unlocked her front door and shut it behind her with a sigh.
“How was work, honey?” asked Ron from the living room. He was always in the living room, transfixed by the television. Hermione regretted buying it; she should have made a clean break from the Muggle world. At least she’d managed to keep her mouth shut about the Internet.
“Beastly. The Americans are making noise, and I think the French are getting ready to back out. This summit is going to be a disaster.” She let out a breath, and with it as much stress as she could. “How was your day?”
“I made sandwiches,” Ron announced proudly.