Harry smirked, taking a swallow from his glass. She wasn't that old, not really, but certainly much like her father. Angry, yes, but everyone was at that age. He was, especially, but she was unlikely to be whipped half to death. "I don't know. But it was rather amusing when he stumbled in the door naked. Personally, I would have thought you two girls had better taste then to spend the evening with him. Then again, you did tie him up; which was a good idea. Pity he managed to get himself free, really." He said, taking another swallow and watching the press of dancers in the centre of the room. "Perhaps she has a more innocent face?" He proposed, with a slight shrug. "Although I can't see it myself. She used to lift up her skirts when she was three, to anyone passing by the house. I think she learnt it from our mother." Another shrug. Anything else she could insult him with after that lot would be water under the bridge.