Housekeeper, cook, and maid all in one—if Dezzie had had any domestic leanings, she would have taken some of the weight off the poor woman’s shoulders! The least the witch could do, she reassured the woman after delivering the menu for their dinner with Bella and her family on the coming Wendesday, was answer the door!

To the witch’s knowledge, neither she nor Arthur were expecting someone. Prewett—ugh—would have simply flooed into their sitting room, and Mama always wrote ahead. Still, Desdemona expected someone she knew to be on the other side of her front door, and so her face formed a clear expression of surprise when it was not a quidditch colleague, relation, or neighbor on her doorstep but a young lady.

“Yes?” she asked by way of greeting, her tone as puzzled as her expression. Subconsciously, her body had moved itself to fill the gap between door and frame, a dam stemming the tide of whatever…this was.