Millie's hand flew to her throat, almost a perfect mime of her aunt's own reactions. The boisterous woman could have rattled the silverware on the other side of the barn with just her voice. It was a feat that the young witch felt herself draw back in anticipation, her fingers only soothing the edges of her nerves as they brushed over the silver links of her necklace. When the barn remained standing and her mum remained where she was, deep in conversation with neighbors who were also attending, Millie let out the breath she had been holding in.

The young witch was grateful that Aunt Laurel had such high ambitions for her, she had the voice of a terrible foe to cross.

She could really only nod and smile with relief as the conversation seemed to move back to the wedding cake. Easier subjects, and far more pressing to the wedding party. Privately, Millie agreed with her aunt, with ambitions for her own to pass her NEWTs. That was too far in the future to think too much about yet, she couldn't let herself get distracted by idle dreaming. Like the sort she let herself be lulled into until Laurel's words pulled her right back into the forefront of the conversation once more.

"Oh, well..." she started, glancing over to Daffy with a plea in her eyes. If anyone could pull a Potts woman back from the edge, it was certainly her own daughter. If anything could pull Aunt Laurel back from wherever she wanted to go. Millie pulled her hand away, finding the same tenacity in her aunt that she'd found mirrored in Jessamine Parkinson last fall. A kindred spirit that had already led her astray once. All sensibility seemed to fly from Millie though, as it did for the plot of a hearty book, or a juicy rumor. "I suppose you heard about Miss Flitwick's engagement with Professor Prince, the whole school knows so I thought Calla..."

Millie shook her head, wondering just what Aunt Laurel spent her time on if it wasn't keeping abreast of the goings-on. "It's such a scandal, a professor courting a student! Quite a few parents know as well, it's been all over Witch Weekly. I saw them staring at each other from across the room, and that was just before we heard about their match. Everyone at school is just waiting for which professor will start courting someone next, and there's only so many bachelors on staff."

By this point, her mouth was feeling a bit dry. Millie chalked up the unusual feeling to the rash of conversation, one she had not expected to be so passionate about at her cousin's wedding. Her nerves had apparently disappeared, and it wasn't clear yet whether that would turn out in her favor yet or not.

"If you ask me, I think it will be Professor Skeeter." Millie ran her finger along the inside of her necklace, back and forth in a thoughtful manner, waiting for her aunt or cousin to finally get the humor in it all.

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