“Brave chap, though,” commented Ollie, wiping away a tear and blowing his nose on a black, silk hanky.
“I'll miss him, actually,” said Ronnie. “He'd always give me a prod with his broom if ever I fell asleep on the street in the early hours.”
“At least he used it for something then,” said Stitches with a chuckle.
As the coffin was lowered into the ground, Biddle the caretaker, groundskeeper, and all-round loon whose entire existence revolved around dealing with the dead and the planting thereof, said a few words about Hector.
He spoke about his life, his achievements, and the fact that despite having a brain that was more pickled than a jar of Professor Pickle's Ever So Pickly Pickled Pickles, he had managed to recall a decimation spell from his days as a young warlock and save the day
