With a flutter of nervousness (it was probably that kind of thrill more than dizziness, fall or no) Daisy tucked her arms about his neck as though that would help him carry her, as though she wasn't lighter than a sack of potatoes already. Anyway, he was being tremendously kind, and caring, and worrying about her especially! Wasn't that a lovely feeling! She'd say it was a little like having a parent, only the one parent she had met in her life... hadn't done much of that, so Mr. Goyle was a mythical person if ever she'd met one.

"Top secret preparations," Daisy said, delighted at his interest. She expected he could tell that was a lie - that no one would entrust her with anything terribly important - but if he so much as chuckled at her teasing, the collision would the lamppost would be well worth it. "I do all sorts to help out, see. I know practically everyone there, an' I do anythin' they need me to." (Not well, necessarily, but with gusto, which ought to count for something.) "One day maybe I'll get to be an act myself, maybe." For a split-second, she had considered pretending she already did something awe-inspiring, but she wasn't sure he'd believe it. "Are you going to visit the festival this summer?" She asked brightly. "I know it's not all same as usual in the fog, but there's still... some stuff to see!" (Her, she meant, mostly.)

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