Her hand shot out to close around his wrist once more, and he turned toward her with a quizzical expression, arching his eyebrows. "For the love of god, Theodore," Narcissa hissed. "Be discreet. I don't need that horrible Skittle woman writing another article about them crying over Draco or something to the likeness of that. You know how much I detest playing maid, cleaning up all of your dirty work, and I don't need something as petty as a love scandal on top of it."