Marcy had by now managed to calm herself somewhat, largely by pressing her hand to her mouth; but meanwhile the Quidditch match was back to full-swing, creating a great cacophony of noise that was making it very hard to concentrate.

Finite incantatum... right... of course. Good suggestion.

Taking a breath, attempting to find a pool of focus in this ocean of noise, Ama tossed her hair back, raised her hand elegantly, and tilted three fingers, muttering the spell...

A flash, a squeak from Marcy — they were gone! The bats were gone. Ama chuckled in relief. But now that the spell had been reversed, the blackberry wine stain had returned to her white blouse with a vengeance. "I could try again", Ama offered uncertainly. Marcy added; "I might just do it myself", then an eavesdropping stranger from the row behind piped up; "I wouldn't mind trying!"

"Okay, no, let's just leave the stain on the bosoms, no more talking about the bosoms." "Please stop saying bosoms", Marcy pleaded.

"It's fine, you can't even notice the stain, can you?" Ama turned to the young man who'd come to help.