Today I snuck into the children’s section of the library to pick up a Riordian number, and while in the R’s noticed a book I’d not seen before. Naturally I checked it out and read it at lunch, giggling the entire way through. A couple of teasers —
‘…and Wee Willykins kissed and huggled the hoppity pot and promised always to help the dollies and never to be an old grumpy-wumpkins again.’
Mrs. Bloxam’s tale has met the same response from generations of Wizarding children: uncontrollable retching, followed by an immediate demand to have the book taken from them and mashed into pulp.
p. 39, Tales of Beedle the Bard. (J.K. Rowling, “Albus Dumbledore”)
This exchange marked the beginning of Mr. Malfoy’s long campaign to have me removed from my post as headmaster of Hogwarts, and of mine to have him removed from his position as Lord Voldemort’s Favorite Death Eater. My response prompted several further letters from Mr. Malfoy, but as they consisted mainly of opprobrious remarks on my sanity, parentage, and hygiene, their relevance to this commentary is remote.
p. 42, Tales of Beedle the Bard. (J.K. Rowling, “Albus Dumbledore”)