Liesl turns her face damply against Sol's shirt, hiccuping and unhappy but at least encouraged to stillness by Lucius's obliging her desire to see for herself. Sol rifles in a pocket for a handkerchief as he nods, "Yeah, we worked together on ley lines," he says, arching back slightly to get at Liesl's face and press the fabric square under her nose. "Blow," he instructs, with noisy results, then, "Are we saying hello, Liesl?"

"Hello," she says, finally, truculently; she's got her way, but it's not quite what she wishes it was. "Mr Malfoy." A pause, then, "Do you like dogs?"