"Perhaps they are just well disguised?" Harry smiles, shrugging slightly. "They could be anyone at all. Perhaps one is a foreign prince, hiding here as a kitchen boy, waiting for his moment to sweep you off your feet?"
"Give me your hand, let me see." He says, noticing the drop of bright red blood that forms on her finger, pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, "Blood is bad for the constitution." He parrots, mocking one of the doctors he had once met. "You're lucky I don't have any leeches with me."
He shakes his head at the mention of Eward's stubbornness. "It's hardly his fault, Abigail. He can't help the fact he likes to live in a dark, dingy, and dirty room. Personally, I think it suits him." He teases. Picking on Edith was one thing, but normally both sisters wouldn't hear a word against Eward.