It was a sunny spring afternoon when tragedy struck. Mrs. Rivers was placidly gardening in the backyard of their home, trimming weeds with flicks of her wand in every direction, occasionally stopping to shoot jets of water out of its end toward the parched plants. Her husband, Mr. Rivers, was reading the Daily Prophet in a lawn chair beside the patch of garden. "You hear that, Ella, they are putting a ban on unauthorized portkeys from now on. It seems that people have been taking advantage of them. Using them to traffic illegal potions ingredients".

But Mrs. Rivers wasn't listening. Her ears had perked up at the sound of...nothing. Deafening silence. This could never be a good sign. As the mother of two rambunctious toddlers, Jack and Jill, Ella Rivers had long ago learnt that silence was never a good sign. She had been grateful to hear the constant snaps and bangs and whizzes that usually accompanied her children, because that meant that they were out of trouble for the time being. Young though they were, the twins could send various objects zooming throughout the house with the bat of an eyelash. One could never be sure what to duck from next. Would it be exploding bubbles filled to the brim with confetti that she would spend days scraping off the floor, or the light fixtures that would swing precariously from one end of the room to the other without warning? A

And yet now, there was silence. Ella strained her ears, hoping to catch a stray pop, but all was still. She called to her husband who still seemed to be absorbed in his Prophet. "Ted, where are the twins? It seems awfully quiet". Ted Rivers lay down his paper. If there was anything that could make an impression on the man, it was the mention of his children who were at the moment involved in some unknown form of mischief.

The next fifteen minutes were spent looking around the garden, in the house, at the neighbors. But there was no sign anywhere of the children. Just when it seemed that all hope was lost and they would have to call in a team of Aurors to locate their missing offspring, Mr. Rivers spotted a sight that sent his senses whirling. On top of a nearby hill, there was an old tin pail. It would have been just an old tin pail had it not been put to use by Ted as a portkey to get to the Ministry every morning. And now it was glowing faintly purple around the edges, the way it did when someone had just been through it.

Seeing no other choice, Ted took a deep breath and placed his hand on the pail. This was going to be a long day.