After long days spent arguing with uptight witches and wizards who pretended to scoff at Voldemort but were truly, deeply, terrified of him, Edgar Bones never failed to be happy to return home. The Wizanagamot was all stiff rules and proper words, but here in the wide backyard no such sense of propriety existed. There were only brown haired children, freckled and shouting and laughing wildly. Edgar only had a moment to take a step back, to watch, before he was spotted at the edge of the yard and the children were running at him, grinning and yelling with delight.