“Harry, they’re not using wands,” Hermione shrieked shrilly.
Harry had indeed disarmed the battling wizards. Four arms now paired off and arm-wrestled at his feet.
“Brilliant, boy genius,” said Weasel as he refereed the match. “That put an end to the fighting….Not!”
For the two wheezing geezer wizards, it only meant a change in tactics.
Bumblebore clamped down on Russet the Potato’s er Randalf the Potato’s er Randalf the Russet’s leg with his teeth. Randalf the Rancorous er Russet head-butted Bumble the Bore (whoops, sorry got carried away) Bumblebore’s chest.
“Oh bother!” whined Hermione prissily.
She marched over to the two thumping thwacking thaumaturges and booted them both in the butts. “Stop it. Stop this, this instant!” she cooed consolingly (sorry again, I wanted to see if you could write an attribution that didn’t match the text. Nope. So why should I use it? The author queried queasily.) “You two are acting foolishly.”
Randalf untoothed Bumblebore’s ankle and Bumblebore’s head ceased acting like a battering ram on Russet the Potato’s skin, which now had purpling which would lower its value in the stores. The two wise wizards looked at Hermione sheepishly.
“Oh ewe kid,” said Bumblebore to Hermione. His eyebrows jumped up and down on his forehead like caterpillars practicing cheerleading maneuvers.
“Thank ewe, dear,” said Randalf the Red Faced Wizard.
Hermione stomped over to the arms, warily waved her wand at them, (Randalf’s right arm was up by two points), and put each set into handcuffs that she materialized out of thick air. “I’d give these back to you two old gits, but I’m afraid as to what you might use them for, if left to your own devices.”