"Won't you even admit it to me?" Harry asks, still smirking. "Don't you find it the littlest bit entertaining? You must." He says, gently hooking his arm through hers. "You can tell me, I won't tell anyone. Not even Eward. Promise."
Harry laugh, bowing his head slightly, "You have a string of admirers, Abigail, even if you do not know it yourself. Now, those roses will need water." He says, fingers moving to lightly stroke one of the velvety petals. "Beautiful things, Roses. They suit you."