(Pigwidgeon had gone to Ginny.) Now she pecked at his ear and dropped a letter into his hands: it was printed on lavish gold-and-white stationary and was heavily scented with jasmine.

"What can I say?" Ron unrolled the paper and examined it with a grin.

"Monique just can´t get enough of me."

"Oh, you´re just stringing her along," said Ginny with a smile, reaching past Ron to get at the pumpkin juice. "You´re not serious about her."

"There are some aspects of this relationship I'm very serious about," Ron said gravely.

"And she's got quite a Wonderbra supporting those aspects," said Hermione, with a sideways evil grin.

"I think sheś just after me for my money anyway," said Ron, who had set himself to the task of turning the unfortunate Moniqueś letter into a paper Firebolt.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Does she know there isn´t much?" she inquired. This was true. While the discovery of a cache of medieval magical treasures underneath the Burrow had made the Daily Prophet, the Weasleys had seen no profit from it, since the entire collection had been spirited away by the Aurorś College for purposes of study and research.

Of the whole treasure hoard, the only things they'd managed to keep were the Gryffindor Galleon that Ginny had given Harry for his birthday and a few pewter trinkets. And if they had expected an enormous windfall from Mr. Weasleyś appointment as Minister of Magic, they were disappointed there as well: few Ministry officials made a great deal of money, and the Minister was no exception, especially when he had seven children. The Weasleys remained what they had been since Fred and Georgeś joke shop had succeeded: pleasantly well off, but not by any means rich.