Arthur Weasley flooed home from work. Though he rarely worked on Sundays anymore, the upcoming Quidditch League finals had kept most of the departments in the ministry swamped with work, and so he had volunteered to help work through the misuse of muggle artifacts's backlog.
He found his wife in the kitchen, where he usually found her around this hour, but she was not making dinner. Instead, she was being comforted by Ginny, Audrey, and Fleur, all of whom looked similarly distressed. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but before he could even utter a single word, Harry came in fuming.
"I will murder him for this! Git!" he raged, his face red with anger while he paced the room. Some family drama, Arthur guessed.
"What have I missed?" he asked, brushing soot off his coat. Harry said nothing, but gruffly held out a piece of paper. Arthur quickly scanned the contents, and when he did, he noticed Hermione through the window. She was smiling. It was the saddest smile Arthur had ever seen. Behind her carefully maintained mask of indifference and pleasantry was a girl feeling miserable. Her cheeks were splotched with red. Her eyes were glossy and wet.
"I know where he lives," Harry said, "I'll make him pay for what he did to Hermione. This is the second and the last time!"
Having read the letter more carefully this time, Arthur connected the dots. Oh dear.
Stepping back into the fireplace, he took a bit of floo powder and returned to the ministry.