Private Message to Poppy Pomfrey

[alt_horace]

Poppy,

Sending up Mr Crabbe and Miss Bundy. If you would be so kind as to reverse the pustule growth and treat any burns they may have sustained, I would appreciate it.

Really, one likes to applaud the students for their ingenuity in such projects as Mr Diggory's masks, but on the whole, I do wish he had waited until after lessons today to hand them out. Or that students would listen when we instruct them not to wear masks while preparing potions.

Miss Bundy need not return but do send Mr Crabbe back so he may determine the time of his detention.

Many thanks.

Comments

[alt_poppy]

Bless.

Yes, of course, I'll see to them. What was the potion?

[alt_horace]

It was a confusing concoction.

[alt_poppy]

Indeed?

I'd say that Mr Crabbe was confused by the recipe, then. Which is fortunate for Miss Bundy, I suppose. At least she'll be in fit shape to attend tonight's feast.

I expect, however, that she'll be glad to have a mask this evening. She was left with several rather unfortunate marks. They'll fade, but it may take a day or two.

It's as much a shame that she wasn't wearing a mask during your lesson as that Mr Crabbe was. Possibly you should contract with Mr Diggory for a supply of protective masks specifically designed for your purpose.

Without wide-span bat wings, naturally. Or tentacles. Or Veela tresses. Or any of the other drooping protuberances many of them are sporting today.

I had an elephant here earlier, whose trunk had wound itself like a constrictor about the wearer's neck. I expect Mr Bletchley may find it difficult to speak this evening. He had rather strained his voice by the time he reached me. Apparently no one heard his appeals for help, strangled as they were.