"You'll never believe the story I have for you," Ophelia said rather gratuitously to her friends as she reclined on the chaise. Though, of course, they would; that was the whole point of having friends, after all, was that they listened to your stories and tended to believe them. This was more a way for her to build it up before launching into it properly than anything else, and to stall a little while the servants laid the tea things out and departed. She trusted her servants, generally, but expected that they probably gossiped as much as society wives did. While she hardly minded, being something of a gossip herself, she didn't need to go making it any easier for them to overhear anything.

"The invitations for my ball couldn't have gone out more than a week ago, and I haven't even heard back from everyone that I wrote asking if they'd like to be presented," she explained. "And the Countess or Earless or whatever she is — you know the one I mean, don't you? That dark-haired woman with the muggle title — said something about it the other day when we were both in the tea room in London. And then she mentioned that Selwyn girl that she's decided to sponsor this season, and she wasn't entirely direct but I believe the implication was that I might consider adding her to the list." Ophelia paused here for dramatic effect; this was bound to be entirely shocking, she assumed. "Can you imagine? Perhaps something had gotten into her tea and she'd gone a bit off in the head that afternoon. Or perhaps she's really quite committed to this girl, and it's dulled her wits," she speculated. "I can't exactly go presenting a foundling as a darling of society at my ball, can I?"

November Malfoy Porphyria Dempsey