"Visiting my grandparents so my mum and dad can go places without me. Very exciting."

"Awww. Where're they going -"

"India mostly."

"We're not stopping by there they didn't have any buildings with the relevant kind of lightning ward. What're they doing -"

"Looking at buildings and talking to wizards there and probably eating spicy food?"

"Why can't you go along with that?"

"They said I could go next year, I guess they just think I'm not old enough or something."

"That'd drive me nuts."

"I like my grandparents, I don't mind that much. Plus it's beastly hot in India in summer."

"Yeah true. And you'll get to see Swan, I wanted to run the lightning ward things by her since she was so much help studying for Charms -"

Nod. "Her mum might take us to see Muggle theater."

"I didn't even know Muggles had theatre."

"Why wouldn't they have theater? I don't know how they do the lighting though."

"Or the acting - do they just have to find someone who looks just like the character -"

"Miranda says sometimes the characters aren't even supposed to look very specific."

"I guess you make do with what you've got."

"Yup. I'll write you about it."

A few days into summer hols, Timothy receives a peppermint humbug and a return address by owl.

And he writes a bland letter back. He enjoyed the peppermint humbug, he would be a terribly respectful steward of the secret recipe.

Is the twelfth good for him?

Yeah.

Then he'll be expected.

He wishes his family a lovely trip and leaves some letters on his desk and some instructions for the house-elves regarding the letters on the desk and he reads about the human slave trade and the management of the African colonies and Muggle literacy rates and Muggle mortality rates and the morning of the twelfth he flies over, lands outside the gates.

There is a lovely garden with albino peacocks in it.

A house-elf meets him at the door. "If Mister Timothy be following Roly to the drawing room?"

"I'd be delighted."