Something struck Gabrielle about the name 'Antonin Dolohov.' Thinking back, she recalled the grand winter festivities he had treated many people to. She had sung for him! Then, he had seemed a generous man who had found a charmingly fiery woman. Still, something was prickly on the back of Gabrielle's neck. She had heard the name elsewhere, like he had a past that Fleur was neglecting to mention.
"Ze entire town??" Well, she was still right about the extravagant part.
...wait, had Dolohov once been one of the men under He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named??
She believed in her sister without exception. Fleur had found a way to avoid registration, and seemed content with it. I must trust my sister. I must trust my sister. I must trust my sister...
"I weel go to ze party eef you go," she answered with a much-needed smile.