Eileen settled into her chair, her feet propped up on the table (it's not as if Tadpole could see them) and the stack of papers from the fourth-years awaiting its verdict.
How did they ever manage to be as wordy and dry as Caractacus Burke? Those passages had to have been copied from somewhere... somewhere recent.
She gave the topmost work the suspicious look which it fully deserved and set it aside.
"And no, you are not keeping me, Mister Weasley. You are performing a charitable deed. My son certainly appreciates your attention."