The pictures are moving!

She stares at them, fascinated.

They don't exactly loop but they're not very creative in how they move or what they do. They're also soundless.

"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid mutters, turning the page. 

"I think governments do that," she shrugs with the air of someone who really doesn't know much about politics.

He snorts. "Yeh got that right."

"Do pictures always move, in your--our--world?"

Blink. "Well, o' course, yeh couldn' expect 'em ter just sit still all day, could yeh?"

"Why not? Lots of things do."

"Well, they'd prob'ly get bored."

"They're people?"

"Well, I reck'n the pictures ain't but the paintings prob'ly are."

"There are paintings that are people!?"

"Aye. Yeh'll meet them at Hogwarts."

!!!!!!!!!!!

"Yeh'll meet ghosts, too."

"Huh."

He gets back to reading the newspaper.

She cheerfully goes back to examining the parts she can see.

But soon the boat bumps gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid folds up his newspaper and clambers up the stone steps onto the street.

She follows.

They make their way to the station, but on the way Hagrid points at a parking meter with delight and says, "See that, Dorea? Things these muggles dream up, eh?"

"That's a parking meter."

"An' that, eh?" he says, pointing at a wall clock. "Muggles invented those."

"What's a muggle?"

"Oh, that's how we call people with no magic."