Snape and Albus glided down a few more aisles, until they came to one labeled FLATTERERS. This section gave off a rancid smell, for the floor was heaped with rubbish. Those who walked up and down these aisles went around picking up the rubbish and eating it. One boy carrying a camera saw Albus and came running toward him.
“Harry! Is it really you? How glad I am to see you! Why are you here?”
“Well, er, I’m not actually Harry. I’m his son, Albus. And I’ve come here to see the entire Ministry.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Albus. Like Albus Dumbledore? What a noble name! And you’re Harry’s son? And you’ve been chosen to journey the Ministry of Magic? AND you’re riding a thestral?” Albus thought the boy was going to faint of excitement.
“Er . . . I wasn’t exactly-”
“Can you sign this for me? My name’s Colin!” Eagerly, the boy held up a rusty old cauldron he had just picked up.
“Er . . . well, I’m a bit busy at the moment . . .” Albus stammered, thinking of how to get rid of Colin.
“Come, Potter!” Snape shouted. Relieved, Albus went over to join him. Snape explained, “Just as rubbish comes from the mouth of a flatterer, so it must return there.”
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