pinching the bridge of his nose One week. One sodding week.

The instructions were clear. The antidote will mature in precisely seven days. No sooner.

muttering Could’ve been seven months. Could’ve been permanent. Look on the bright side.

There is no bright side. This is a catastrophic humiliation. My father will hear about this.

voice like cold oil, from the doorway The Headmaster has been… persuaded… that this was a regrettable accident during independent study. Not deliberate malfeasance.

You will be its custodians. You will keep it alive, clean, and contained within these dormitories until the potion wears off. You will tell no one.

Right. He clapped his hands once, the sound sharp. Berkshire. You’re on nappy duty.

I’d rather kiss a grindylow.

It’s staring at me. It’s judging me.

It’s probably plotting. Look at its eyes.