What an awful day this has been; all I'm really sure of is that none of it is my fault.
I went canoeing with Jessica today. She and I were in one canoe and the muggle maths teacher and his wife were in another; the other couple, they explained, had decided to take the ferry to Ambleside instead. Jessica and I were much faster at paddling than the teacher and his wife, and we soon left them behind, which seemed to suit Jessica quite well.
She explained--I asked--that she was here on holiday with her sister (the teacher's wife), but that until she met me she'd been having the most boring time imaginable because she can't stand anything her sister or her sister's friends like to do.
She seemed unduly angry about it; I don't think I got the whole story, because she tipped over the canoe as we were talking. I think it was on purpose, which makes the mess at least partially her fault. She did it because I had pointed out our cottage, but I wouldn't take her up to meet Mum and Dad. I told her they were still ill, but I had been telling her about the floo problem, except without mentioning the floo because muggles don't have floos, and she didn't believe me. I think she thought I thought she was too common to take home to meet Mum and Dad, which is true if you think about it--muggles are dreadfully common--but not exactly true in the way she thought it was true.
After she tipped over the boat, we were wet, and she said we should go up to the cottage to dry off, which is silly. I thought we could go up past the cottage to the table rock; it would be bright and sunny there and we could climb all the way up where no one really goes, and talk some more while we dried off. She couldn't go to the cottage anyway, because of the anti-muggle charms. So I pretended to agree with her about going to the cottage and we set off.
It would have worked, I'm fairly sure, because she was starting to calm down as we went, and the anti-muggle charms would have kept her from wanting to go to the cottage once we were close enough for them to work. But as we were going past, dad saw me and he runs out and drags Jessica and I in--he brings us past the charms, which ruined everything. He wants me to talk to some woman from the ministry who was doing a follow-up interview about the floo problem. Neither of them pay any attention to Jessica, who is listening like she's not sure whether to laugh or run away. She kept looking at me like she was looking for clues, and I didn't know what to do at all.
Then Dad does a couple of spells and she decides running away is the right thing to do; that gets everyone's attention, and the next thing I know the woman from the ministry is obliviating Jessica and lecturing us about secrecy, and dad's frowning at me as if it was all my fault.
I told him this morning that I was going canoeing with a muggle; he should have realized. Right?
I led Jessica away while she was confused; luckily she didn't recover until we were back at the canoe. I told her she had fainted, and I carried her back to the canoe.
She was touchingly grateful for about five minutes, and it made me feel like a complete cad. She was quite worried about why she might have fainted--exertion? the heat?--and I might not have been as patient as I could have been because I was uncomfortable with the whole situation. I told her she ought to just forget about it, and then we had an amazing argument that could probably be heard on the other side of the lake. When that was done, she paddled off with the canoe and my lunch and my favorite hat.
She can keep it. I'm swearing off muggles for the rest of the summer.