Gabrielle was quite content in the fiery dress she had bought in the afternoon with Morag- one of several selections. While more feminine pastels usually agreed with her, this outfit made her feel like her Veela glow had become a moth-attracting flame. ...Except the moths were men, and she was really a very nice person! ...She was glad she did not talk about that particular metaphor out loud; it was awkward.
Her first precious rendezvous happened like clockwork. No drink had been fetched yet, and Gabrielle was merely smiling at the scenery when the eyes hit her. As usual, she pretended not to immediately notice, though she was giggling wildly through her teeth. She also pretended not to see him stumble, and not to find his 'come here often' line as tired as it was.
What she could not imagine her way out of, though, was that he was madly attractive, and carried with him the air of a rather unpleasant night. La, what had happened to the poor thing? All at once, toying with him seemed cruel. Instead, she suddenly, painfully wanted to make him smile.
"Nous verrons ce que nous verrons," she thought to herself, before putting on her best innocent face and saying "Bonjour. My name, eet eez Gabrielle Delacour, and you are vairy correct. I 'ave not been 'ere before, but ehm..." She looked right into his eyes, hoping to see him brighten, before adding, "I like eet."