Mudraking

With a flutter of pages, Destrey threw the Daily Prophet across the table. Of course, the magical world was against her this morning so rather than landing in somebody's food or hitting them in the face or creating any sort of satisfying result, the newspaper used the momentum she'd given it to flap high into the air and begin folding itself up.

"Oh no you don't."

Destrey aimed her wand at the offensive item and blasted a hole through it, bringing it down like a wounded bird. After the paper had been unfolded, the article in question could still be read around the singes in the paper. However, Destrey's concern was with a footnote, which she pointed out to her brother.

To compensate for their lack of magical ability, Hogwarts gives them an unfairly easier grading curve, and thus they end up with marks they would not have got in the past.

"Not that I care, but it's like they went out of their way to hire morons," she said. "And you know Father is going to be livid about this when we go home. Perhaps I'll just stay here for the holidays."