"Oh, you're from the magic school nearby, aren't you? Looking for chicks for experiments, or maybe as pets? You're too late. I only sell chicks in spring."
"No. Excuse me... do you have any Roosters left?"
The stallholder's expression froze. "No. I only bought a few, and they all... Ah, never mind that. Here, take a look. You can't fault these hens. Look at those plump bellies! They'll lay an egg a day, no problem. How about one each?"
The hen in the stallholder's hand was certainly fat, but its tail feathers were wet and smeared with droppings. When he held it toward them, the stench of rotten eggs rushed up all four of their noses.
"Sorry, we're not buying hens. Our professor said we need a Rooster for the experiment next lesson. If we can't find one, we'll have to sit there doing nothing. We might even lose points. Are you sure you don't have any Roosters?"
Before speaking, Hermione had held her breath until her brown eyes turned watery, making her look pitiful.
Unfortunately, the stallholder was unmoved. "Look, I'm running a business. Why would I turn away a customer? I've only just opened, and I'm working on a shoestring. I buy stock and sell it as soon as it comes in. How would I have any left over?"
"Besides, you were here just now. You must have heard that all the Roosters in Fortes's warehouse died too. Luckily, I only bought two or three. I can take the loss."
"When's your next delivery?"
"About half a month from now. The supplier comes through the village every two weeks, and I only got this batch the day before yesterday!"
"Half a month?! We can't wait that long!"
Ron frowned.
"I've heard the professors at Hogwarts are very understanding.