"Oh--so I should be calling you a scholar now--and a diplomat--" He's laughing, and turns a bit to swat unsteadily in a direction that's more or less Harry's shoulder. "--It's about as good French as I came to Paris with. Around Lyon we have our own language."

He'd adapted quickly, very quickly, and been proud of it. Had barely missed Lyonnais words until running into someone else from the region.