Going to an art gallery to badger portraits was a novel idea. Ford could have protested that generally he liked portraits, but he wasn't sure that was entirely true. During his early Hogwarts years he'd gotten a bit of a reputation for being the sort of boy who talked to the castle ghosts and paintings more often than he talked to other children, but that didn't mean he'd continue to get on with them outside of Hogwarts. One of the things he'd liked so much about the paintings at Hogwarts was that they seemed to know so much; every conversation with them was an outpouring of wisdom, invaluable to an eleven-year-old trying to find his way in a strange new world. Portraits outside of the Hogwarts Castle wouldn't necessarily have that same knowledge. Saying he liked portraits was probably as broad as saying he liked ghosts, or that he liked people. There were certainly some that he liked, but maybe some deserved to be badgered a bit. Besides, badgering was very much in character for Tycho; he badgered people even when he liked them.

The conversation seemed to be turning without his having to say anything about cajoling portraits, anyway; Tycho was asking him about ballets and operas now. Ford had been to operas before, but he hadn't particularly enjoyed the ones he'd seen. What did Ford like to do? He had been captivated by the Sonata in the spring — but that didn't feel like the sort of thing one could casually bring up to a friend, so he didn't mention it. Instead, he laid back down on the sofa and let out a melodramatic sigh. "I don't know. I don't get to do anything except chaperone my sisters around."

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