Ford hesitated. He preferred red wine over champagne when it was strictly a matter of taste, but he wasn't usually wearing a blindingly white suit. "Champagne," he decided. "And I think it's best for everyone if I don't take a spin," he said with a chuckle. His magical abilities had always been strictly focused on practical magic. If he didn't have an opportunity to practice it at least once a week in the course of regular activities, he was going to end up rubbish at it before too long. He hadn't continued with transfiguration at the NEWT level — actually he hadn't even earned an OWL in it, though he didn't know whether he'd ever shared that particular fact with Tycho. He would certainly be sorely out of his depth at a place like this.

"If I were an animagus," Ford said, with the same air as one might say if I could fly to Saturn — "What animal do you think I'd be?"

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