Arthur Weasley sipped from his mug of tea, his feet covered in Christmas wrapping paper. Nine grandchildren had pillaged through the hundreds of gifts just hours ago. Now they were getting ready to go outdoors to play.
His eldest grandchild burst through the door, followed by others. "Grand-père!" she shouted, "we're ready to play!"
"Give us a kiss then, loves." Nine pecks of his cheek later, Arthur sat back, smiling and thinking. Nine grandchildren…hang on! Waving his wand, he lifted the wrapping paper. Aha, he thought as he Levitated the small bundle to the couch. Ten grandchildren. The perfect number.
