139
Wesley the Weasel
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You reach out a hand to pet the weasel, who allows you to pat him on the head.

"Ah, my pet weasel Arthur, do please go ahead and stroke him, by all means. Wesley craves human contact, as long as the human is not from Snakefang house. You see Arthur," Slumblebore explains as you stroke the weasel, "Wesley was not always a weasel. He was not always called Wesley either. Let me explain.

"Wesley used to be a real boy just like you Arthur. Then one day in an ill-tempered dispute with a Snakefang House student about who had the fastest broomstick, he was transformed by magic into the weasel you see before you. Unfortunately the spell was permanent."

Wesley listens to all this intently, and he leaps onto Slumblebore's desk, chattering his teeth in rage and frustration.

"As Wesley was an orphan I realised that the kindest thing to do would be to adopt him as my pet. My tailor on Hippotomews specially made his red waistcoat and matching hat. And I decided to give him his new name: Wesley, because Wesley the Weasel has a rather pleasing ring to it, don't you think? His boy name before that was Gary, which would never do. Or possibly it was Barry.

"Ever since then he has lived with me. We get along famously although I must admit that his table manners are not all that they might be - he has an unfortunate habit of defecating in the raisins."

Wesley hangs his head, shamefacedly.

"But do not let that worry you," says Slumblebore brightening. "Because every once in a while, I cast a spell to turn all the droppings in the room into raisins. Then they taste virtually identical in any case.

"Why do I tell you all this Arthur? Because I want you to know that for all my students I will always be there for them. I will always be there for you, when you need help the most. Always, Arthur, always. Metaphorically. Just like I was for Barry. Or was it Larry.