She found Guilian to be quite forward. Usually, the infatuated ramblings of men drove the younger Delacour to roll her eyes, but here she saw something genuine. It was as if a piece of him was shriveled away, and needed the light of someone like her to reignite. Gabrielle was more than willing to oblige, but became more and more curious, to the point of uneasiness.
Her pale hand raised her own glass as she winked playfully. Guilian would have to work more still to fully prove that he wasn't just another Veela-chaser, but he was definitely making admirable progress. He really looked quite dashing across the table...
Durmstrang. Having attended Beauxbatons, she had not known of her companion's transfer. The information settled sourly in her stomach, as Beauxbatons girls had often considered Durmstrang boys to be frightening and brutish. ...well, that, or dangerously alluring. All Gabbi knew, though, was that she had never been trained in the Dark Arts, nor had she wanted to, and Guiliano Montague probably had.
"I was not a prat," she said with her nose in the air, trying to hide her thoughts.
His statement about love made her smile again. "Oui," Gabbi replied with pride. "I do not know about as-air-teev, eizer. I just defend zose 'oo cannot defend zemselves." The girl was sure that, were Bill Weasley in the room, he would have plenty to say without her help.
She had not yet sipped her wine when the music kicked in, and she was almost talking about it before the question had been asked. "I love zat zey 'ave a live band," she nodded enthusiastically. "Eet eez becoming more common to 'ave recordings or charmed instruments wizout ze 'uman touch." She glanced toward the table of one now-dancing couple. "And... zeir food eez going to get cold...!"