Wentworth sat in his seat, fingers lightly tapping against the tabletop. Time passed second by second, and the room was engulfed in silence, save for the rhythmic tapping that echoed throughout.
After a long while, Wentworth's fingers suddenly halted. The room fell into complete stillness. Then, he turned his gaze toward Auston Greengrass and decisively ordered:
"First, assign people to keep a watchful eye on Gringotts around the clock. I don't want a single suspicious movement to go unnoticed."
Without hesitation, Auston Greengrass nodded and immediately left the room to carry out the instructions.
Once Auston had departed, Wentworth shifted his gaze to Carrow and gave the next command:
"Second, stir up some trouble in other parts of Britain. We wouldn't want our dear Aurors to have too leisurely a time, would we?"
Carrow nodded repeatedly, then quickly left to make the necessary arrangements.
Finally, Wentworth turned to Rosier and spoke slowly:
"Third, Grandma Rosier, I need you to keep an eye on a certain place for me."
Rosier furrowed her brow in slight confusion. "Where?"
Wentworth's voice was calm as he replied, "The Burrow, in the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon—the residence of the Weasley family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
Although Rosier found the request puzzling, she knew that Wentworth never acted without reason. She chose not to question him, nor did she inquire why he wanted the Burrow monitored. Instead, she simply nodded and replied coolly, "Understood."
Once Rosier had left, the room was empty save for Wentworth himself. He retrieved parchment and a quill from his suitcase and began to write:
Dear Mr. Bill Weasley...
...
Days passed, yet there was still no word from Abernathy.
Each evening, Auston Greengrass personally reported on the surveillance of Gringotts, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.
Until one morning, Rosier suddenly approached Wentworth, unable to contain her urgency as she announced:
"Wentworth, the person you've been waiting for has returned to Britain!"
Upon hearing this, Wentworth gave a slight nod, signaling that he understood. He then leisurely finished the last bite of his breakfast, elegantly wiped his mouth, and finally stood up, saying:
"Let's go. We're heading to Ottery St. Catchpole."
While Wentworth was still enjoying his breakfast, Bill Weasley stood at the doorstep of his childhood home, staring at the towering, crooked house built of stone. A wave of emotions surged within him.
This was his home, the place where he had grown up. Though it had never been wealthy—indeed, one might even call it poor—it had never lacked joy.
Forcing himself to shake off his memories, Bill put on a smile and gently knocked on the wooden door of the Burrow.
Moments later, hurried footsteps echoed from inside, followed by the familiar voice of Molly Weasley:
"Coming, coming! Who would be visiting this early in the—Merlin's beard! Bill! Oh, my dear boy, you're home?!"
The instant she laid eyes on her eldest son, Molly's eyes welled with tears. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace.
Hearing her voice, the rest of the Weasley children came rushing out, their footsteps pounding against the floor in their eagerness. The moment they saw their big brother, a chorus of delighted cheers erupted.
Laughing, Bill greeted his younger siblings while stepping inside, pulling out a collection of gifts from his luggage, much to their delight.
Meanwhile, Molly was already looking for the family owl, determined to send a letter to her husband so he could return home as soon as possible.
As Bill watched the lively scene unfold before him, his heart filled with warmth. And yet, his fingers brushed against the envelope in his pocket, and the weight of its contents settled upon him once more.
Just as the other Weasley children were busy unwrapping their gifts, Bill quietly slipped out of the Burrow and approached his mother, who was in the process of tying a letter to the owl's leg.
Molly, focused on her task, seemed unaware of Bill's presence. But just as he was about to speak, she preempted him, saying without turning around:
"All right, Bill. I came outside on purpose. Now, tell me—what's going on?"
Bill blinked in surprise before asking, "How did you know I had something to say?"
Molly finally released the owl, watching as it soared into the sky. Then, she turned to face her son, looking at him intently as she spoke each word with certainty:
"Bill, don't forget—I'm your mother."
Bill felt a lump form in his throat, but he held back his emotions. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter, placing it in her hands.
Molly opened it and read silently. After a moment, she folded it away, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she gestured for Bill to follow her back inside.
The moment they stepped through the door, Molly clapped her hands together, gathering her children's attention.
"All right, my little mischief-makers, since your big brother is home, I believe we have the perfect excuse for a grand feast tonight!"
Cheers erupted once more.
Molly raised a hand to quiet them. Once the room had settled, she reached into her apron pocket, producing a handful of Sickles and a few Knuts. After a moment's thought, she fished out a few more Knuts from another pocket before announcing:
"Now then, who wants to go out and buy some ingredients for dinner?"
At first, the room fell silent, and it seemed as if everyone was about to scatter. Only little Ginny hesitantly raised her hand.
But before anyone could flee, Molly added, "And whatever's left, you can keep for yourselves."
Instantly, the Weasley children swarmed forward, each eager to claim the task for themselves.
Bill stood aside, watching the joyful chaos unfold. He couldn't help but smile—but there was a trace of bitterness in that smile, too.
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