CHAPTER SIX
“Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative,” said Her-
mione, sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the text-
book. “It is used to return people who have been transfigured or
cursed to their original state.”
“Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor,” said Professor Sprout.
“The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also,
however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?”
Hermione’s hand narrowly missed Harry’s glasses as it shot up
again.
“The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it,” she
said promptly.
“Precisely. Take another ten points,” said Professor Sprout.
“Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young.”
She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone
shuffled forward for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little
plants, purplish green in color, were growing there in rows. They
looked quite unremarkable to Harry, who didn’t have the slightest
idea what Hermione meant by the “cry” of the Mandrake.
“Everyone take a pair of earmuffs,” said Professor Sprout.
There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn’t
pink and fluffy.
“When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are com-
pletely covered,” said Professor Sprout. “When it is safe to remove
them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right — earmuffs on.”
Harry snapped the earmuffs over his ears. They shut out sound
completely. Professor Sprout put the pink, fluffy pair over her own
ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty
plants firmly, and pulled hard.
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