Ford's eyes slid from Lestrange to the dresser as it moved. He didn't see any wires, at least not right away, but his curiosity was piqued. The pictures in the halls could have been magnets or any number of other things, but for something that big there really had to be a wire somewhere. That, or they had to be using magic. That was sort of a funny thought, now that it had occurred to him — it would be really, really easy to run a place like this with a little magic, and if most of your clientele were Muggles they'd never know the difference between a wand and an elaborate trick house. Presumably the Ministry wouldn't be happy about it, though, if they caught wind.

"Well, let's take a look, then," he said brightly, springing up off the doorway and moving towards the dresser. This was the burst of energy he'd needed, it seemed, not the tea — he was feeling perfectly capable of going at this for at least another hour, all of the sudden. He approached the dresser and waved a hand in front of it, then vaguely over the sides; nothing caught. Probably on the bottom, then; that was a better place to pull it from, anyway, to keep it from toppling over.

"Can you stand there in case it moves again?" he asked, but did not wait for an answer before laying down on the ground and wriggling halfway beneath it, peering up at the bottom. "I don't want to get crushed tonight."