"Yes," Tracey said dryly, "you were demure and sweet and Alex was the perfect gentleman and I, I was the wide-eyed, innocent ingenue." For all the sarcasm, she couldn't laughing right along with Daphne. It felt too good to just be with her friends and not have to act a part.
Waggling a subtle eyebrow, she cut her eyes teasingly at Daphne. "You'll have to share the details of your experiments with me, darling. I want to hear about them even if Alex wants to stew in his fiancee-envy."
"Infamous is more likely. It is Alex we're talking about." She covered Daphne's shaking hand with her own in an attempt at reassurance. Alex's glib assertion that he could bring down pain and suffering on random shoppers was not in the least comforting. While she liked and trusted, to an extent, Alex Bole, there were plenty of Death Eaters out there who would see only the halfblood and not Tracey herself. She thought she'd finally left that kind of potential for random violence when she dragged herself out of the East End. It was wholly depressing to be proved so deeply wrong.