"Sending out a note for assistance", Ama replied with her nose still in her handbag, and was glad to find that she didn't snap out these words. For she was feeling very snappy inside. She didn't like it — it was not like Ama to find herself writhing in this unkind fusion of dislike and the feeling of being disliked. It made her quite out of character, and keener than ever to escape this miserable situation.

She finally found a scrap of parchment, and was in the process of placing it on the counter and withdrawing an old quill when she glanced up and noticed just how pale and clammy young Mrs Zabini looked. It seemed that the beauty in this bathroom was in fact Ama. But she felt so wretched at having such a childishly petty thought, that she finally felt a semblance of pity for the girl.

Ama returned to her handbag and withdrew a small wrapped sweet, which she offered to Mrs Zabini. "It's peppermint — it'll help with the nausea", she said simply, half expecting to be rejected despite the consequences.