"Cunting bastards," Fred swore under his breath, remembering at the last moment Bailey probably wouldn't appreciate his swearing. Few people did. He looked down at her. "Oh Princess, I'm so sorry this shite had to come down on you. Just because the Prat and his bitch of a wife can't get their collective sticks out their arses..."
He shook his head, wondering how the hell he was going to fix this.
"Look they're probably a bit fussed because George and I, mainly me, might have dosed precious Percy at the party last Saturday because he was being such an arse. We'll figure something out. Promise."