Alright, there was a pregnant woman and she wouldn't wake up, and - maybe it was something with the pregnancy, although it should not have been, or maybe it was something with an allergy, although if she had taken other sleeping draughts it should not have been. Maybe it was something with the dosing. Or maybe it was his fault.

He could brew it again and try it himself later, but that wasn't the point, right now. Think, Noble, think - think like a healer, or even like a potioneer, like someone who was not trying to go to prison for accidentally murdering someone's pregnant wife. He looked a little overwrought, like this was squeezing him.

"A bezoar," Noble said, the thought coming to him in a flash. He looked at Mr. Crouch and the woman who seemed to know him with some urgency, hoping they were absorbing this. "It might not wake her up but it's - fast, it'll help, and - you should take her to potion and plant poisoning."

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