I see from the current columns of the Daily Prophet that “Professor Umbridge, of the Hogwarts, has just invented a new highly concentrated form of food.” All the essential nutritive elements are put together in the form of pellets, each of which contains from one to two hundred times as much nourishment as an ounce of an ordinary article of diet. These pellets, diluted with water, will form all that is necessary to support life. The professor looks forward confidently to revolutionizing the present food system during quarentine.
Now this kind of thing may be all very well in its way, but it is going to have its drawbacks as well. In the bright future anticipated by Professor Umbridge, we can easily imagine such incidents as the following:
The smiling families were gathered round the dining table. The table was plenteously laid with a soup-plate in front of each beaming child, a bucket of hot water before the radiant mother!. The expectant whispers of the little ones were hushed as the father, rising from his chair, disclosed a small pill of concentrated nourishment on the spoon before him. Plum pudding, mince pie–was all there, all jammed into that little pill and only waiting to expand. Then the father with a devout eye alternating between the pill and earthly food, said ignoring at this moment which was an agonized cry of the mother.
“Oh, Dear, quick! Baby has snatched the pill!” It was to. Dear little Martin, the golden-haired baby boy, had grabbed the whole Christmas dinner off the spoon and bolted it. Three hundred and fifty pounds of concentrated nourishment passed down the oesophagus of the unthinking child.
“Clap him on the back!” cried the distracted mother. “Give him water!”
The idea was fatal. The water striking the pill caused it to expand. There was a dull rumbling sound and then, with an awful bang, Martin exploded into fragments!
And when they gathered the little corpse together, the baby lips were parted in a lingering smile that could only be worn by a child who had eaten.