Within moments of the young woman speaking Orlando began to wonder whether he had grossly miscalculated and inadvertently put himself in a position where he not only had to dance, but looked as though he was utterly desperate to do so. The maliciousness he had seen from a distance did not seem quite so evident up close, and she seemed cheerful enough, but what if he was wrong?

“Orlando Lovegood,” he supplied, taking note of her accent and immediately discounting her as one of the girls of Ada’s circle who developed claws the moment they debuted. “Perhaps you are acquainted with my sister?”