"Zat's what I've been afraid of on zose blasted moving staircases!" Fleur admitted, frustrated. She was mentally keeping notes as the waiter brought out their food.
She relaxed somewhat, supposing that if nothing else, it made sense for safety reasons. She cut into her lamb, enjoying the smells that school food often lacked. "I steel 'ave not met 'oor 'usband." She admitted. "I wish I coud. I 'ave talked to him over journals."