“Merlin’s beard!” exclaimed Narcissa Black. She spun both of her arms in windmills to check her balance as she struggled to stand still atop the narrow, rust-colored, cylinder. “Oh, stop making such a fuss,” chided her older sister Andromeda. “Last time I Apparated with you, you threw up, so we had to use Floo powder. …
Creme Tangerine 