Yes, dear, Mother knows what you were trying to do, and you were right to do it, of course. I just hate the thought of anything happening to you - or Harry, either of you. You flew brilliantly.

And our tea was rather scattered, wasn't it? Well, nevermind; I shall be certain to send a whole fresh jar of plum jam to get you through to the holidays.

Don't fret about the bludger, darling. Your father and uncle shall sort it all, I'm sure.