Hermione accidentally encounters enchanted blueberries that make her a little bigger than before.
The gigantic oaken table, dark with centuries of use and polishing, was lined with books, quills, ink pots and scrolls. Hermione sat before the impressive array as if an invading army contemplating the best strategy to assault the fortress of dead trees. Her sharp eyes darted left as she flicked through pages of an open tome and then right as she dipped her quill into a waiting pot.
“Eh-HEM,” a voice declared loudly from behind her shoulder.
“No, I won’t help you study,” she said absently as she scanned the book with a finger blackened from her writing.…