Frank looked at Bridget like she'd told him that she was a goddess. "Really? Can we look for them?" Frank would have gone to look for them himself, but he wasn't sure what they looked like and from time to time he had trouble reading.
"It's from... I can't remember." Frank shrugged, making a point to tell her if he ever remembered. "What's Pulp Fiction?" That's one he hadn't seen, but if it was Tarantino, he knew he would like it.
When she told her she grew up with Muggles, Frank was smiling again. "You're lucky. I'm pureblood, so no Muggle fun for me." Frank frowned. "Not that I don't like my family, because I do. I fucking love them. We just never have a lot of Muggle stuff around the house. I always went to Muggle shops, though, when I went into London."