Meaghan had only agreed to accept this invitation based on the extreme flowery-ness of the invite itself and because of Narcissa's recent peacock-related breakdown, which she had found so utterly hysterical that there was not a power on this earth that could have stopped her from meeting its perpetrator in person. She really had no interest in attending or being an honored guest at any fancy dinner party-shenanigans for Saint Mungo's and would beg off as soon as she was told the date. In order to assuage her conscience, she would be sure to make a donation from her savings after this meeting, just to be sure a worthy cause actually got money that wasn't bribed out of people in exchange for dry chicken and watered-down wine.
Wearing her best light-blue robes, that brought her eyes into startling relief against her dark hair, she followed the little house elf with a certain amount of distaste--not at the creature, but at its servitude. It seemed downright barbaric for those who claimed to be so refined to force other, weaker creatures into their service. She stepped into the salon, eyes surveying the dainty (Oh, Christ) place-settings and her even daintier host, who looked just as Meaghan had remembered: pretty, perfect, and down-right fragile looking. She looked as if a muffled noise would startle her out of her skin. No wonder a missing peacock (a peacock, for Merlin's sake) had sent her into priopisms of hysteria.