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"
Good
afternoon
.
I
have
an
appointment
with
a
Mrs.
Cole
,
who
,
I
believe
,
is
the
matron
here
?
"
"
Oh
,
"
said
the
bewildered-looking
girl
,
taking
in
Dumbledore
's
eccentric
appearance
.
"
Um
...
just
a
mo.
.
.
MRS.
COLE
!
"
she
bellowed
over
her
shoulder
.
Harry
heard
a
distant
voice
shouting
something
in
response
.
The
girl
turned
back
to
Dumbledore
.
"
Come
in
,
she
's
on
'
er
way
.
"
Dumbledore
stepped
into
a
hallway
tiled
in
black
and
white
;
the
whole
place
was
shabby
but
spotlessly
clean
.
Harry
and
the
older
Dumbledore
followed
.
Before
the
front
door
had
closed
behind
them
,
a
skinny
,
harassed-looking
woman
came
scurrying
toward
them
.
She
had
a
sharp-featured
face
that
appeared
more
anxious
than
unkind
,
and
she
was
talking
over
her
shoulder
to
another
aproned
helper
as
she
walked
toward
Dumbledore
.
"
...
and
take
the
iodine
upstairs
to
Martha
,
Billy
Stubbs
has
been
picking
his
scabs
and
Eric
Whalley
's
oozing
all
over
his
sheets
--
chicken
pox
on
top
of
everything
else
,
"
she
said
to
nobody
in
particular
,
and
then
her
eyes
fell
upon
Dumbledore
and
she
stopped
dead
in
her
tracks
,
looking
as
astonished
as
if
a
giraffe
had
just
crossed
her
threshold
.
"
Good
afternoon
,
"
said
Dumbledore
,
holding
out
his
hand
.
Mrs.
Cole
simply
gaped
.
"
My
name
is
Albus
Dumbledore
.
I
sent
you
a
letter
requesting
an
appointment
and
you
very
kindly
invited
me
here
today
.
"
Mrs.
Cole
blinked
.
Apparently
deciding
that
Dumbledore
was
not
a
hallucination
,
she
said
feebly
,
"
Oh
yes
.
Well
--
well
then
--
you
'd
better
come
into
my
room
.
Yes
.
"
