Seven-year-old Ruby seemed to be in a good mood today. She chattered in the werewolves’ language (Hermione had tentatively identified it as a Gaelic-influenced dialect of Norwegian, but as yet had no translation spell or potion for it) and played games with the bucket, popping soap bubbles that formed on the roiling surface. Hermione nodded and smiled whenever the little girl said something to her, and swallowed her bile.