Well. She never had been able to resist making Harper jealous. Maybe he would even cut in and whisk her off. Until then, she'd dance with the quidditch bloke (because what girl didn't dance with the quidditch bloke? Stupid girls, that's who), or at least until she spotted her husband. Who was probably stuffing his face with that cheese he liked.
And now she kind of wanted that cheese too, but. There was a hand being offered.
Psyke's nose tilted up once more as she took his hand, and she stood, letting out a breath in the form of a slightly high-pitched sigh. "If you insist."
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