"Plaster, just plaster. What in the stars?" Harry laid a hand on the flaky plaster, checking for the spark of life, even of the involvement of a necromancer. He missed Bob. He could have just demanded an answer, one of many he'd have asked for this week, and got one. It would have been sarcastic and tinged with polka related trivia these days, but at least he'd have got an answer.
"God damn plaster elephant." His summons were still failing and yet someone else had managed to call this.