The chocolate oughtn't to have been served, if Rudder had heard Norbert well. It was uncalled for. Rudder had served below the belt. He wasn't playing fair. Oh sure, Rudder was the Dark Lord and all, and Voldemort had nothing on him, either trident-wise or serpent-wise. But, it occurred to Norbert a trustful covenant had been signed earlier in the day. Was this supposed to be Rudder's twisted way of signalling a bashful retreat? Was He being brazenly spineless? Surely not, Me Lud, if Norbert may venture to call anyone that. Usually, Norbert would never even instigate such a thing, but the gold-foiled cocoa slab really was really pushing the envelope.



And suddenly, Norbert was wishing for a world in which the law of the land was either sanity or death. It was absolute madness to have a world where one was allowed to be insane. Give Norbert intellectual liberty or give him death, Zogwarg Queen.

The repetitive clawing motion was insisting that Norbert do his utmost best to ignore it. The more it jabbed, the more it urged Norbert to build his muscular resilience. "Get stronger," it thumped benevolently over Norbert's silently screeching hypothalamus. It's a cardiac calisthenic. Breathe and jump. Rinse and repeat.

When the eye tried to stare Norbert down, he knew he must rise to the challenge and climb the stair on the double. And didn't he dare worry that he seemed not to be able to play by Their rules. Truth be conjectured, They didn't seem to be able to convey with any sort of clarity what the rules were themselves, and Norbert would be a fool to himself if he attempted to understand that which strove not to be understood.

In the meanwhile, it still remained to be seen what would be done about the insidious bar of chocolate. More on that as it unfolds, or unwraps.

Irredeemable insanity should really be banned. Just saying.