Anne raised an eyebrow at the flask Black so casually sipped. He was already the perfect image of rich, handsome, and bored. It made her want to shake him, just a tad. "I thought death by boredom a real danger at this sort of thing." Anne sniffed, as if the smell of the room offended her.

Turning an eye to Black, and with actual sympathy, Anne wondered aloud. "Bloody hell, you have to tolerate this nonsense the rest of your life, don't you? Hope there's some posh, pureblood quidditch league for you to join at least." Anne's genuine curiosity still bleeding into the need to needle. It wasn't like she'd have the chance much longer.

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