Roslyn bit back a laugh. She was, after all, supposed to be stern, grave right now. Ros knew that she certainly could be wrong, but the longer she could use logic to thwart her son, she thought, the better.

"You behaved recklessly and dishonestly," Ros voiced. "You were dishonest to do something which you knew you were not allowed, and so must be punished—your uncle had asked if he might purchase you a broom for this school year, but I shall tell him he must wait instead until you return for your summer holidays."

It sounded, Ros thought, worse than it was—the loss of what one never had was not so great as the loss of something more tangible. Still, for a young boy, she thought it would do the trick.

"You were reckless in placing yourself in a situation where you might find yourself in danger," she continued. "Regardless of your feelings on the matter, your father is the Minister of Magic. While I wish the world were safe and wonderful, it is not, and the fact of the matter is that you are both an example and a target so long as your father remains in his office. I have always thought you to be wise in spite of your age, Idris, until this incident, and so I believe you can understand the gravity of this."