It was a fortnight into September now, and the transition to Autumn was starting to hint of its arrival in this part of the world. The forest directly outside the Shield Ward of the Blue Palace was like a Bob Ross painting, touched with hints of browns and reds and ochres. There were even the rolling hills of the Brecon Beacons to complete this stunning vista. Harry was a huge fan of the magical world's greatest artist, and the Grand Gallery of the Blue Palace was replete with his works, ones that Harry had managed to collect on his travels. Harry hoped to tempt him to visit Wales once Voldemort was vanquished, but Bob rarely left Alaska these days, where he had retired after faking his death in the Muggle world, to spend more time with his happy little trees and his family of squirrels.