"Here," he whispered, barely contained. His magic slipped beyond his control, stroked across the broad backs of the men that brought him this... This thing, this disgusting thing swaddled in pinks and wrinkled skirts, bound by magic and writhing like a worm on a hook. Indeed, she was on a hook he supposed, one that was hung up in the Room of Requirement, which had been transformed into his court, a space of intimacy, of magic, of Hogwarts" power pulsing in the walls in leyline ribbons of gold and red. In twisting colors of black and green.