The line was interminable and awful. It was no wonder that Mo wasn't able to wait patiently, going quickly from standing still to standing on one leg to jogging in place to flailing a bit from his spot in the line. This was taking forever.

What were they doing up there at the front? Knitting a sweater for Henry?

Granted, Mo didn't want to scare the hippogriff, so he settled for jogging in place again and opted not to shout impatiently at anyone, but HE FELT IMPATIENT, OKAY? He wanted a turn.