One Thing Left to Restore
Number 12 Grimmauld Place was beautiful. The floors gleamed, the glass shone, every bit of it had been restored to its original grandeur. Well, almost every bit of it. There was the boggart in the kitchen cupboard that Remus stubbornly refused to dispatch, and the fifth floor could still use some work. And then there was this.
Pansy laid the item in question out on the library table and scowled. It resisted every magical effort to repair it. There was only one thing left to do...repair it by hand. Pansy examined the damage carefully and made a mental list of the items she would need to purchase on Diagon Alley to repair it. After carefully packing the item away, she donned her winter cloak, tied on a bonnet, and walked toward the front door.
"I'm fixing it whether you like it or not, you old bat," she commented to the portrait of Mrs. Black on her way out. "And there's nothing you can do about it."
The portrait screetched horribly.
"I may not be able to take you down, but I can still paint chin hair and a unibrow on you," Pansy threatened. Mrs. Black quieted immediately with a frustrated hrumphh.
Pansy laid the item in question out on the library table and scowled. It resisted every magical effort to repair it. There was only one thing left to do...repair it by hand. Pansy examined the damage carefully and made a mental list of the items she would need to purchase on Diagon Alley to repair it. After carefully packing the item away, she donned her winter cloak, tied on a bonnet, and walked toward the front door.
"I'm fixing it whether you like it or not, you old bat," she commented to the portrait of Mrs. Black on her way out. "And there's nothing you can do about it."
The portrait screetched horribly.
"I may not be able to take you down, but I can still paint chin hair and a unibrow on you," Pansy threatened. Mrs. Black quieted immediately with a frustrated hrumphh.