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“Daddy’s made a tiara,” piped up Luna, “Well, more of a crown, really.”
“A daughter. A—a—matter of business—don’t be distressed.
“A wand was taken from you upon your arrival at the Ministry today, Mrs. Cattermole,” Umbridge was saying. “Eight-and-three-quarter inches, cherry, unicorn-hair core. Do you recognize the description?”
“Gas explosion,” grunted Ernie.
“From the time of our alighting at the outer gate (which we
