This is most trying for me, and fully accounts for the stars.

Which I hope you'll excuse.

However.
We now come back by way of the stars to Philip wrong way up in the clutches of the Pretenderette.

She had breathed the magic word in the Hippogriff's ear, but she had not added any special order.
So the Hippogriff was entirely its own master as far as the choice of where it was to go was concerned.

It tossed its white mane after circling three times between air and sky, made straight for the Island-where-you-mayn't-go.