Helga listened to him complain with her champagne flute to her mouth, only lowering it once he'd finished talking. Hopefully he was not so wounded; surely a man with such physical strength was not so easily disheartened by the opinions of gossips.
"Do not fret, Mr. Longbottom," she hushed, trying and failing to keep a smile off her face, "I do not possess the same opinions as the gossip mills—and if I am honest, I've never heard a bad word of your team until you were made beater of the British team. I'm sure it's just silly girls that are disappointed that their favorite players were not chosen," she said, letting out a dramatic sigh and shaking her head to prove her point.
She was much more familiar with the topic of quidditch sponsorships than quidditch playing, having her own step-nephew and niece overseeing the management of the Chudley Cannons after the death of their Papa. "But if it troubles you anyhow, perhaps you should follow my nephew Mr. Gallivan's lead—I hear he may try to recruit one of the Moroccans."
"Do not fret, Mr. Longbottom," she hushed, trying and failing to keep a smile off her face, "I do not possess the same opinions as the gossip mills—and if I am honest, I've never heard a bad word of your team until you were made beater of the British team. I'm sure it's just silly girls that are disappointed that their favorite players were not chosen," she said, letting out a dramatic sigh and shaking her head to prove her point.
She was much more familiar with the topic of quidditch sponsorships than quidditch playing, having her own step-nephew and niece overseeing the management of the Chudley Cannons after the death of their Papa. "But if it troubles you anyhow, perhaps you should follow my nephew Mr. Gallivan's lead—I hear he may try to recruit one of the Moroccans."
— set by MJ! <3 —