Just offset to the curtained partition itself were two chairs. A disconsolate Percy Weasley was seated in one, head buried in his hands while soft sobs emanated from him. Occupying the other seat was a young woman Harry had never seen before. Dark midnight tresses cascaded down like a curtain, partially obscuring her face as it was turned towards the ginger man, speaking in soft, comforting tones that the Chosen One couldn't make out. Behind Percy and the mystery girl, Bill's wife, Fleur, was hovering, biting her lip in concern.