“Take that thing out of your mouth,” I say, and with a grimace stick my fingers into his mouth. After carefully inspecting the retrieved cork, I decide that it did not have any traces of potion.

“Here, chew on this,” I say and give him the pacifier provided by Minerva.

My numerous attempts to educate the brat have failed.  Just earlier today, he stuffed a galleon into his mouth. I dropped the thing off the Astronomy Tower, as if was covered in slobber. 

Shaking my head, I banish the contaminated cork into the trash and go to wash my hands.