Head and added them to a flask of muddy Polyjuice Potion she had taken from the beaded

bag. Ron was rummaging through the little witch’s handbag.

“She’s Mafalda Hopkirk,” he said, reading a small card that identified their victim

as an assistant in the Improper Use of Magic Office. “You’d better take this, Hermione,

and here are the tokens.”

He passed her several small golden coins, all embossed with the letters M.O.M.,

which he had taken from the witch’s purse.

Hermione drank the Polyjuice Potion, which was now a pleasant heliotrope color,

And within seconds stood before them, the double of Mafalda Hopkirk. As she removed

Mafalda’s spectacles and put them on, Harry checked his watch.

“We’re running late, Mr. Magical Maintenance will be here any second.”

They hurried to close the door on the real Mafalda; Harry and Ron threw the

Invisibility Cloak over themselves but Hermione remained in view, waiting. Seconds

Later there was another pop, and a small, ferrety looking wizard appeared before them.

“Oh, hello, Mafalda.”

“Hello!” said Hermione in a quavery voice, “How are you today?”

“Not so good, actually,” replied the little wizard, who looked thoroughly

Downcast.

As Hermione and the wizard headed for the main road, Harry and Ron crept along

Behind them.

“I’m sorry to hear you’re under the weather,” said Hermione, talking firmly over

The little wizard and he tried to expound upon his problems; it was essential to stop him

from reaching the street. “Here, have a sweet.”

“Eh? Oh, no thanks –“

“I insist!” said Hermione aggressively, shaking the bag of pastilles in his face.

Looking rather alarmed, the little wizard took one.

The effect was instantaneous. The moment the pastille touched his tongue, the

Little wizard started vomiting so hard that he did not even notice as Hermione yanked a

Handful of hairs from the top of his head.

“Oh dear!” she said, as he splattered the alley with sick. “Perhaps you’d better

take the day off!”

“No – no!” He choked and retched, trying to continue on his way despite being

unable to walk straight. “I must – today – must go – “

“But that’s just silly!” said Hermione, alarmed. “You can’t go to work in this state

– I think you ought to go to St. Mungo’s and get them to sort you out.”

The wizard had collapsed, heaving, onto all fours, still trying to crawl toward the

Main street.

“You simply can’t go to work like this!” cried Hermione.

At last he seemed to accept the truth of her words. Using a reposed Hermione to

Claw his way back into a standing position, he turned on the spot and vanished, leaving

Nothing behind but the bag Ron had snatched from his hand as he went and some flying

Chunks of vomit.

“Urgh,” said Hermione, holding up the skirt of her robe to avoid the puddles of

sick. “It would have made much less mess to Stun him too.”

“Yeah,” said Ron, emerging from under the cloak holding the wizard’s bag, “but I

Still think a whole pile of unconscious bodies would have drawn more attention. Keen on

his job, though, isn’t he? Chuck us the hair and the potion, then.”

Within two minutes, Ron stood before them, as small and ferrety as the sick

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 694