Charlie's friends turned up precisely at midnight on broomsticks, dressed all in battered black leather and looking vaguely familiar. They inexplicably managed to land on the tower, all in a flurry of air and loose hanging straps and ruffled hair, without making a single noise, but then immediately ruined the effect by greeting Percy with cheery disregard for the lateness of the hour. "Mornin', li'l Ginger," trilled their leader, a shaggy brown-haired wizard with a friendly Scottish accent who was several inches shorter than Percy and seemed to thrum with energy. One of the others gave him a sardonic look. "Or, eh, evenin', I guess, whichever," he added with a shrug.