Private Message to Rolanda Hooch

If you're not in the midst of something that can't be laid aside, I could use your presence in the Hospital Wing. I have one of yours, Mr McLaggen, suffering from a rather nasty curse injury.

Mind you, he won't die of the matter, but it is a serious thing nonetheless, and as it is patently a result of rule-breaking behaviour, I believe it's a matter requiring intervention from his Head of House.

I shall hold him here until you arrive, though it would be helpful if that were sooner than later as I've another, considerably more pressing, situation at hand and cannot be keeping more than half an eye on McLaggen the while.

Private Message to Minerva McGonagall and Septima Vector

This unsupervised duelling must be stopped. And you are the ones must stop it.

One should have thought that after Samuels, they'd have seen sense, but no! This morning, I have McLaggen with an infected curse burn and Inglebee with no mouth.

No mouth.

In consequence of an unreversed Omniphagitos curse. I've told him they might as well have cursed his brain to atrophy for all he apparently ever uses it. Needless to say he's not answered any of my questions.

They never do.

In any case, I've done all I can for Inglebee; however, full restoration will require specialist treatments, which, I'm pleased to say, will set his family back a substantial sum. I've given him an oral cavity, a tongue, and teeth; I've also reconnected his mouth to his throat and respiratory system, but I'm afraid his lips no longer sit entirely right on his face, and nor is his speech likely to recover without therapeutic intervention. He is also unlikely to be a quiet sleeper for some time to come; one hopes, rather, that this will not endear him to his dormitory companions--peer disapproval ranking high amongst effective deterrents to future misbehaviour, higher than physical discomfort or lectures from the Matron.