Two.
Amelia had been a Prefect in her fifth year, so she was accustomed to riding to Hogwarts without her best friends by her side, but when she made rounds she was granted a chance to talk to them for a few minutes. However, each time she offered to scan the train, Charlotte, Hestia and Dedalus insisted.
So, instead of playing cards with Emmeline and Xeno, she was stuck watching Alecto Carrow chew the ends of her ratty and seemingly unwashed hair, Walden smooth out his shirt and straighten his tie each time the train jostled, Benjy speed read his way through texts on Charms and Transfiguration, and Caradoc change positions each time he awoke from his short lived naps. She almost wished that Kingsley would come by – at least it would be someone to talk to.
When Hestia and Dedalus came back without the Hufflepuff, Amelia raised an eyebrow.
"Where's Charlotte?" she posed, her eyes moving back and forth between the two Gryffindors.
"No idea." Hestia said shortly, brushing her tasseled hair away from her face.
"Haven't seen her." Dedalus shrugged, a little breathless.
Amelia exchanged looks with the other members of the compartment who seemed to be thinking the same thing in regards to the Gryffindors.
"'Course you wouldn't have. You were too busy snogging." Caradoc said, his eyes half closed.
A curious trait of Gryffindors, they were too proud to be embarrassed so when neither of them flushed in the face or retorted with something witty, no one was surprised. Alecto even stopped pulling the threads out of her skirt to listen in.
"Just the same," Hestia said, "We didn't see her."
"I'll go look for her." Benjy volunteered before Amelia had the chance to.
He stood and reached for the latch when it opened. Most of them assumed the missing party had returned but it wasn't Charlotte. Far from it.
"Sorry, Benj." Kingsley said, stepping aside to let him out. Once Benjy had disappeared, Kingsley took Benjy's vacated seat beside Amelia, flashing him a grin.
"What're you doing in here?" Amelia asked, puzzled.
"It's good to see you, too, Lia." He teased.
"I didn't mean it that way." She corrected. "Shouldn't you be patrolling or something?"
"Andromeda's got it covered." Kingsley said of the Head Girl.
At the mention of the Black sister, Alecto snorted. Andromeda, most knew, went against her family and didn't hold true to their beliefs. An outcast of sorts, she was usually shunned by her own house for her behavior.
"Damn blood-traitor." Alecto sneered.
"That's enough." Walden said to the black haired witch. Of the two Slytherins in the compartment, Amelia reasoned, Walden seemed to be the lesser of two evils; a bit concerned with order and consistency, but hardly as ruthless as his female counterpart.
"Thinks she too good for us. Won't even eat with us. Sits with your lot." She said to Amelia in reference to the Ravenclaw house.
"Piss off, Alecto." Amelia said with a narrow of her eyes and a slight shake of her head.
"What's the problem, Bones?" She asked, cocking her head to the side, her green eyes catlike. "You of all people should understand. What is it? Six or seven Pureblood generations in your family?"
"Alecto-" Walden started but she cut him off.
"Shut it, MacNair." She seethed, her eyes still fixed on Amelia. "You're just as bad as she is-"
"Carrow." Kingsley said firmly, his eyes hard. "Another word and I'll see to it that-"
"No surprise that you'd stick up for her, Shacklebolt." She snorted. "Are you the one that's swooning over Miss Amelia here-" Walden quickly covered her mouth with his hand and grabbed her by the arm.
"We're going to do rounds." He explained to the group before whispering to her "This is not the place or the time."
As they exited, it was clear that Alecto was biting him, kicking him in the shin, anything to get him to let go of her. An awkward silence fell over the compartment and Amelia wasn't sure what to say. Alecto was right about her family being Pureblooded for generations and generations but it wasn't intentional. Happenstance, that was all that it was. Even for Edgar and Elliot, Nathalia and Cordelia were from Pureblooded families. It just happened that way.
Kingsley, who had been called out on his feelings for Amelia, looked a little embarrassed, but not enough to avert his eyes from her. Quite the opposite, he was staring, which, in turn, caused her to lock her eyes on the carpet. She didn't fancy having this conversation with Kingsley right now, or any time in the near future. What Amelia most wanted was to sleep for the remainder of the ride.
"Hestia," Dedalus said shortly, "It might be a good idea to look for Benjy and Charlotte."
"Right," Hestia nodded, "Good idea. Caradoc, why don't you come along with us?" The idea the two Gryffindors had was to one, leave Amelia and Kingsley alone to talk things over, and two, to get away from everyone so they could pick up where they had left off.
"No, that's alright." Caradoc said, seeming to have sensed that the Ravenclaw did not want to be left alone with the Head Boy. "I think I'll stick around here."
"But-"
"Don't you have tonsil hockey to play?" Caradoc said to the two, which was enough for them to leave.
Kingsley, who was currently pissed off with Caradoc for his refusal to leave, sighed heavily before standing. Turning to Amelia before he reached that latch of the door, he said,
"I'll see you at dinner, Lia." And with that, he was gone.
After Kingsley disappeared, Amelia let out a heavy sigh that suggested that she had been holding her breath, and this made Caradoc laugh. Turning to him, she pivoted her framed so that she was leaning against the window and stretched her feet out in front of her long-ways as Caradoc did the same thing, his toes touching her own.
"So," he began, a smile tugging at his lips. "Who are you more angry at? Alecto for being a foul loudmouth, or the Gryffindors for trying to 'create a moment?'"
"That depends," she said after a pause, "What are you more impressed with? Your ability to embarrass Hestia and Dedalus or your ability to kick them out of the compartment?"
And for the remainder of the train ride – at least, until both of them fell asleep – they went back forth with a variety of questions. Amelia was thankful to at least have Caradoc, who she always seemed to get along with, share the sixth year Prefect title with her. It meant that when they had progress report meetings with Professor Dumbledore, she would have someone to talk to.
Amelia was sound asleep when the train stopped, and all of the other sixth year Prefects had vacated the compartment to change into their robes and greet the first years. Caradoc had tried to wake Amelia but she rolled over and muttered something along the lines up, 'I'm awake, I just need my eyes to adjust.' And Caradoc took this as a suitable response when he left her.
Though she was being shaken awake gently by a pair of soft hands, Amelia woke with a start, her head moving faster then her body in an effort to figure out what was happening. She scanned the compartment and realized that her joint titleholders had left her. When she turned to see who had graciously offered to wake her, she was surprised, although part of her suggested that she shouldn't have been.
Walden MacNair's sapphire eyes stared down at her, his face apologetic and a little embarrassed.
"Come on, Bones." He said with no particular tone. "The train is about to leave the station. You don't fancy a ride all the way back to London, do you?" he said with a slight smile.
Amelia looked at him curiously, confused. He was a Slytherin; he should leave her on the train and run to tell his friends what he just let happen. Alecto would certainly be proud, Amelia thought bitterly.
"Why are you being nice to me?" she blurted out, still in her sleeplike state. "I mean, why have you always been so nice to me?" When she stood, she still had to look up at him, which made her feel smaller then she already was. Throughout the train ride and even throughout their time at Hogwarts, he had never made a snide remark or laughed at her, something she thought odd. She never complained, but she was curious.
Walden laughed at this, his teeth as straight as his tie and as white as the crisp cotton button down he wore under his robe.
"Why shouldn't I be?" he posed, folding arms across his chest.
His question was quick and she didn't see it coming. She would have expected a response that was more like 'because I have to' or 'Kingsley is outside listening.' For him to offer up a response that suggested that this was the right thing to do was unnerving.
Amelia shrugged lightly with an embarrassed grin and made for the door when he pulled it closed.
"I want an answer."
Amelia sighed before answering, unsure of how to word her thoughts without sounding like a bigoted git. She didn't get along well with Slytherins, any of them. Walden, who had been in nearly all of her classes since they were first years, should have known this. When they were thirteen, Amelia threw a potions bottle at Amycus Carrow for trying to look at her exam answers. Last year she charmed textbooks to whack Patrick Greengrass in the back of the head for asking her if she needed her lips surgically removed from Professor Flitwick's behind. She had gotten into countless arguments with Winifred Kirby over the years ranging from everything to lessons to the war. When Amelia saw anything clothed in green in the halls, her mood fell considerably. Saying that she hated most members of the Slytherin house was a vast understatement.
"Your house doesn't exactly have a reputation for being friendly." She said with a knowing look.
"Neither does yours." He said, without missing a beat.
Walden knew that Amelia was going to say something stereotypical and was ready with a retort. While he couldn't deny that Ravenclaws were among the most good looking and intelligent, the air that they had about made them less so. They flaunted their smarts, even Amelia. They were quick to correct others and make sure that their opinion was heard.
If there were any two houses that were alike, it was Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Both were witty and cunning. Though Ravenclaw was known for their intelligence, Slytherin was a very close second. The major difference was that Slytherins just made their presence known more often.
"Stuck up, pompous, know-it-all arses. That's what Ravenclaws are, right?"
"No!" she said, offended, her jaw dropping. "Not at all! Well, some," she offered, "but not everyone. That's-" she stopped, closing her eyes. "That's your point."
"Exactly." He nodded, dropping his arm from the latch, allowing her to pass. "And," he added as she was about to cross the threshold, "for the record, I've never been nice to you; I treat you like I would any Pureblood." He said matter-of-factly.
"But what about what Alecto said about-" she started.
"Alecto." Walden said as if her name was a complete sentence in and of itself. Running his tongue over his teeth before breaking into a grin, he continued. "You've known her six years now, Bones. You tell me. But as far as I'm concerned, you're okay."
Amelia grinned lightly and nodded, grabbing her robe and saddlebag before departing to the hallway. She didn't know how long she had been asleep but it was evident that all of the other students had already gotten off of the train. Lateness being one of her pet peeves, she quickly threw her robe over her shoulders hoping to conceal the fact that she had yet to change into her uniform. After securing her bag over her shoulder, she flipped open the top and checked to make sure that she had all of her belongings. Stepping onto the lift, Amelia nearly jumped onto the platform, her eyes still fixated on the textbooks and number of quills she had.
Fall had always been her favorite season; the smell of maple, burning leaves and the overall feeling of change. The pavement was slick beneath her shoes, the sound of her steps echoing in the empty station as the train began pulling away.
Her thoughts drifted back to what Walden had said and she thought for a moment that maybe not all of his housemates were as horrible as Alecto. As her mind recounted the words Walden had said and her eyes scanned the inside of her bag, she was oblivious when she collided face first into the stone hard chest of another figure who had turned in her direction at precisely the wrong moment.
Amelia fell to the ground, landing square on her backside, the wetness from the ground soaking through her clothes, her texts spilling out of her bag like water from a faucet. As she raised her gaze, her heart rate sped up and a shiver ran through her bones.
She was not scared of Lucius Malfoy, though she did most certainly didn't go out of her way to cross him. She had heard all of the stories about him; how ruthless, how cruel, how horrible. When she started at Hogwarts, he was one of the first people Edgar had told her to steer clear of. Quickly reaching for her belongings, she shoved them back into her bag carelessly.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, shaking her head. "I wasn't watching were I was going." Amelia's voice was nonchalant, as though bumping into the head of Slytherin was nothing to be taken too seriously. "Really Lucius-" she started as she brought herself up to her feet, clutching her bag against her chest.
Amelia's apology was cut off. The six foot one blonde placed his index finger to her rapidly moving lips, systematically silencing her. His skin was cold, much like his heart and his eyes bore into her, a piercing grey stare. He had not anticipated speaking to her at all, just casting her a scowl and continuing to walk past her. But her informal use of his name set him off.
"When addressing me," he sad in a velvety voice, a tone that was seductive without trying to be, "you will do so with no name other then 'Malfoy,' even better if you don't address me at all. And the next time you condescend to speak to me in such a manner, I will not be as forgiving." He said matter of factly.
Amelia's eyes darted to his head, to his finger at her lips up to his eyes, which she had to crane her neck to see properly. She had, of course, expected his reaction to be unpleasant, which was why she was a little unnerved. But his tone was uncalled for and she intended to let him know it.
Swiftly pushing his hand aside, Amelia narrowed her dark blue eyes, her lips twisted into a thin line.
"I'm sorry, Malfoy," she said, heavy emphasis on his surname, "but your ego takes up so much room that it's difficult for those of us who aren't accustomed to tending to it to realize when we're about to walk into its airspace." She said evenly, her bag now slung across her shoulder, her hands folded across her chest. "What have you got now? A twelve foot range? Miss Black been whispering pretty lines in your ear to add to your vanity?"
Malfoy's face, if possible, turned harder and his lips contorted into a sinister smile, as though he knew something that she did not and planned to use it to his advantage.
"Bones, is it?" he said, her surname sounding strangely foreign on his tongue. "Yes, Edgar's little sister. The phrase is true – the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree." He continued, giving her a onceover that made her feel both disgusted and violated.
"Leave my family out of this." She said firmly.
"I've heard about you. Quite a quick tongue you've got. I'd commend you on your bold stature but I don't tolerate wistfulness from anyone." He said sharply. "Especially brats like yourself."
"I suspect your father is an exception, then." She said without hesitation.
Amelia knew more about Arabaxtus Malfoy then one should, thanks in large part to Rita Skeeter. Rita, for a reason none of her housemates could explain, harbored an absurd obsession with the Malfoys mainly because she was under the impression that they had dozens of secrets. For instance, the last two generations consisted of one child per marriage, and both children had been boys. 'It's a good thing their male heir survived,' Rita had said, 'because Merlin knows that years of inbreeding severely damaged their genetic chain.' How she came up with her information and theories, they didn't know. But she seemed too sure of herself for them to question her.
At the mention of his father, Malfoy's eyes narrowed art her remark, livid. His hands formed into angry fists, his knuckles turning a stark white.
"Keep my father's name out of your mouth." He said through clenched teeth, taking a threatening step closer to her.
"Do I detect some hostility between father and son?" she challenged, staring up at him, his frame towering over her with ease.
"You insolent, little-" he began, raising his hand as if to strike her when he was caught off guard by the soft voice of Narcissa Black.
"Lucius?" she called from the far end of the station, making her way toward the arguing students.
Narcissa was tall and elegant, and almost seemed to float rather then walk. Her hair was a corn silk blond and fell around her waist in a flaxen manner. Her eyes were cornflower blue and beneath their hard exterior there was a compassion that one had to search for. Her face was delicate and her features sharp, a combination only one of her confidence could pull off. Nearly every girl in the school envied her, even Amelia, though most wouldn't admit it.
"You're lucky." He breathed, turning away from Amelia and to Narcissa.
"Lucius," Narcissa said cocking her head to the side. "Stop harassing Ravenclaws – they're not worth it."
At her remark, Amelia debated on retorting but held her tongue; she had already wasted too much time arguing with lesser beings.
"Besides," Narcissa continued, "Prefects have to make a good impression." She said knowingly.
"Prefects?" Amelia said in disbelief without realizing it. She could almost understand Narcissa being a Prefect – she hadn't been wholly corrupted by Malfoy and her older sister, Bellatrix. There was still time for her to turn out to be decent human being. Malfoy on the other hand; he was already too far-gone for anyone to bring out any good in him.
"That's right. Lucius and I both." Narcissa stated proudly, though Malfoy rolled his eyes, a bit agitated at the mention of his title.
Amelia knew he had been a Prefect in both his fifth and sixth year because Edgar often mentioned that he missed meetings regularly. She found it odd that he was offered the position again for such disregard of its entailments. Shaking her head with a mocking grin, Amelia looked up at the both of them.
"In that case," she said, pulling her own Prefect badge out of her bag and pinning it loosely on her robe, "we'd all better get going."
"Don't tell me-" Malfoy began.
"I won't." Amelia said cockily. "Here's to not seeing you around." She said brushing past the both of them and hurrying to the boats to catch up with the first years.
Narcissa folded her arms across her chest and watched as Amelia walked off. She turned to Malfoy, whose hands were shoved into his pockets and his eyes were fixed on the ground.
"What did she mean by that?" the girl asked, unsure of whether or not to be offended.
Malfoy looked at Narcissa without answering as he placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the castle.
–––––––––––––
When Amelia reached the Black Lake, all of the first years had already piled into the boats and Hagrid informed Amelia that she wasn't needed. Feeling a bit dejected, Amelia turned and headed for the carriages in hopes that she hadn't missed out on those, too. Thankfully, she was able to catch one of the final rides to the castle in a carriage by herself and changed into her uniform along the way. Once she had reached the front doors, she nearly ran into the Great Hall, brushing past the awaiting first years.
In the Great Hall, the sky was lit up with floating candles and a clear night sky much like the one outside. From the entrance, the table on the far left belonged to Slytherin, beside them, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and on the far right, Hufflepuff. Because Edgar was now a seventh year and the self-appointed Head of House, he sat on the end, close to the professors, Nathalia beside him. Kingsley usually sat across from him, but because it was the first feast of the year, the Gryffindor sat with his own housemates, and Amelia aimed to take his vacated position. Beside Amelia, sat Emmeline, who was across from Elliot and Cordelia respectively. Amos, who had taken to sitting with the Ravenclaws during mealtimes late in the previous year, usually took a seat beside Emmeline.
It was clear that the Headmaster was just about to make his opening speech in welcoming everyone back to school and bring the first years in to be sorted. Amelia hurried to the front of the table, trying not to draw too much attention to herself, though it was next to impossible; the hall had fallen silent for the Headmaster and all anyone could hear was the clicking on Amelia's shoes against the stone floor.
Sliding in beside Emmeline, Amelia cast an apologetic look to her professors and turned her eyes on Edgar who grinned at her mockingly.
"Shut it, Edgar." Amelia whispered.
"Uh .. Lia," Emmeline whispered to her friend discretely. "Your shirt is on inside out."
Amelia looked down at her blouse to find that the buttons on her blouse were fastened on the underside of her shirt. Sinking against the table, Amelia ignored it and focused her attention on the first years that were making their way in.
Amelia and Edgar liked to take bets on which eleven year olds would be joining them. The wager was small – whoever lost had to do both of their Charms homework – but it was the sport of it. In years previous, Edgar usually won but Amelia as generally a good sport about it. It gave her a chance to learn new material and be prepared for the following year. Elliot once tried to get in on the game but he lost miserably and his older siblings hardly counted his opinion either way.
There was one occasion when Amelia had won and it was by chance. Edgar had been going on and on about a boy with sandy colored hair and a pale face. 'He just looks smart, Lia.' Edgar had said. Amelia was so aggravated with Edgar's confidence that she up and decided that he was a Gryffindor just to make her brother angry. As it turned out, while Remus Lupin certainly had the intelligence to be a Ravenclaw, he was destined to be a Gryffindor
"Right there," Edgar said, pointing to tall boy with shaggy dark brown hair, "He's definitely a Ravenclaw."
"Hardly." Amelia said with a shake of head. "He wouldn't know a confundus charm from a bat bogey hex." Amelia said with a roll of her eyes. "Now her," Amelia said indicating a girl who stood toward the front of the line, "She looks the part."
"The part?" Edgar said with furrowed eyebrows. "What is this? A casting call? She's a bloody Hufflepuff. Just look at the way she stands! All hunched over and fidgety."
"She's not hunched over." Emmeline said, directing Amelia's attention to a pair of Gryffindor boys who were giggling as the girl tried to shoo away what appeared to be a niffler. "She's terrified."
"James!" Amelia whispered harshly across the row at James Potter and his partner in crime, Sirius Black, who rolled his eyes at Amelia. "The both of you, stop it!"
"Don't lose your skin, Bones." James said easily and charmed the niffler back to him when the Great Hall erupted in applause.
"See! I told you, Lia." Edgar said, giving a high-five to the boy he had been betting on. "Oy! All of you, move down! Todd needs a place to sit." Edgar called, scooting down so Todd Boot could take a seat beside him. "Todd," Edgar said, clapping him on the back, "Welcome to Ravenclaw."
Amelia and Emmeline rolled their eyes as Edgar gave the boy a pep talk about what to expect and what not to expect when the hall erupted in cheers once again for the girl whom Amelia had chosen who was sorted into Ravenclaw.
"Make room!" Amelia called to the rest of the table as Lindsay Barstowe sat down. "We're glad to have you, Lindsay." Amelia said encouragingly, casting a look of triumph at Edgar.
Throughout the rest of the feast, neither of them guessed the correct sorting for the first years, though Elliot gave his siblings knowing looks every once in a while as though he was winning his own private game.
Each house reacted similarly when someone was sorted into his or her house. Cheers and applause broke out across the tables and the Heads of House beamed. The Quidditch Captains, who seemed to be the leaders of their respective houses, greeted each new member with a warm grin, even Malfoy, though Amelia hardly paid much attention to the Slytherin table. Her attention was divided among the three remaining houses and she found her eyes darting back and forth between her own table and the one behind her.
Whenever Gryffindor garnered a new house member, Kingsley embraced each one of them warmly and introduced them to everyone within the vicinity. Amelia watched as he seemed to take each nervous and petrified newcomer under his wing and assure them of the new friends they were going to make. As Head Boy, Amelia supposed he was expected to behave this way. But it was effortless. It was who he was and it was endearing.
And unfortunately, Edgar didn't miss it.
"Liiiiia." Edgar said with an annoying drawl. "Is it my imagination or are you gawking at King?"
Edgar's face was that of an excited toddler who had just been granted another chocolate chip cookie or a brand new toy. The arrangement of his sister and best mate was a long time coming and he had hoped that maybe the two would make a connection on their own without too much of his own intervention.
"I don't gawk." Amelia protested, turning back to her meal.
"Well whatever it is you do," he pressed, "You're doing it at King."
Amelia shot a burning glare at her brother, but was biting back a grin she was sure wouldn't go unnoticed at the same time. She had to admit several things about Kingsley. While he was undeniably good looking, he had a way with people that certainly make him attractive. He was bold and charismatic and kept his friends laughing. The sixteen year old would never admit it aloud but she was reevaluating her decision not to get involved.
"Hey, Lia." Benjy called from down the row. "We ought to get going with this lot, yeah?" he said in reference to showing the first years around.
As sixth year Prefects, the arrangement had been made that she and Benjy would herd the students around like cattle and show them the ins and outs of the school. Edgar and Nathalia – ironically enough - seventh year Prefects, would be tied up in a meeting with the Headmaster on what was expected of them. The fifths year were still getting used to the title and taking on the responsibility of showing them the castle was a bit too much. Instead, the following day, they would take them around the castle grounds.
After the Headmaster had finished bidding goodnight and good luck to the student body, Amelia and Benjy rose and beckoned the new Ravenclaws toward the entrance hall.
The tour itself of the school was boring; where the library was, where the classrooms were located and the most direct route to get there.
"The school's a pretty big place," Amelia said to the wide-eyed students, "But if you ever get lost, there is a way to find your way back to the tower."
"If you notice," Benjy jumped in, "All along the castle walls, there are portraits of famous witches and wizards throughout the ages." He said, indicating several of the portraits on either side of the corridor.
"Those who had been in Ravenclaw," Amelia pointed out, "Are all facing toward the East, the location of Ravenclaw Tower."
"How do we tell East from West?" Lindsay asked curiously.
"The direction of the sun." Benjy said with a nod.
"It rises in the East and sets in the West." Amelia chipped in as they stopped in front of the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower.
"You'll find that while most houses require a password to gain access to the common room and dormitories, Ravenclaw requires the answer to a riddle." Benjy informed them promptly.
"So if another house lets their password slip, anyone can enter. But the riddles change everyday, for everyone."
"And because you're the smartest in the school," Benjy grinned, "You shouldn't have a problem figuring it out."
"For example," Amelia said, turning a wooden door without a handle. Using the Eagle shaped knocker, Amelia rapped on the door twice when the bird chirped and asked, 'It is a slither in the water.' Without hesitation, Amelia replied, "It is a soar in the sky."
Stepping back, Amelia let Benjy lead the students into the common room and was just about to follow when she heard her name on the lips of a deep voice. Turning, Amelia felt her lips break into a grin at the sight of Kingsley.
"Anyone could have figured that out." He said in reference to the riddle, his face bright.
"Which is why you've been to Ravenclaw Tower so many times." Amelia said with a slight smirk.
Kingsley had tried to access Ravenclaw Tower many times before due quarrels over Quidditch schedules or to remind Edgar of a Prefects meeting that had suddenly come up. But he tried to no avail. Each time he thought he had the answer to one of the many riddles; he ended up right back where he started.
Folding her arms across her chest, she leaned her body against the wall, the day's events catching up with her. "I thought you had to meet with the Headmaster."
"I did." Kingsley explained. "But he asked Andromeda and myself to check up on the sixth year Prefects. You know," he shrugged, "Make sure you're doing your job."
"Yeah?" Amelia asked with a grin. "Tell me, am I cut out for a career in tourism, or do I need more practice?" she joked.
"I think you could stand to hone your skills. But you did a better job then Hestia and Dedalus. Merlin," he said with a wide grin, "Everything they said was an innuendo. 'You can find the entrance here.' 'Make sure you say the password nice and slow so that it can hear you properly.' The poor first years had no idea what they were talking about."
"Somehow I'm not surprised. They couldn't keep their hands off each other on the train. Neither could Walden and Alecto, now that I think about it." Amelia said with a soft laugh.
"I don't think beating each other counts as any kind of affection or flirting, Lia." Kingsley replied.
Amelia was silent for a moment and kept her eyes focused on Kingsley, who also seemed to run out of things to say. She weighed the pros and cons of the situation in her mind; if she agreed to date Kingsley, she wouldn't be losing anything, not necessarily. She had no problems with the dark skinned Gryffindor and she really couldn't find anything about him unlikable. She wasn't seeing anyone else and had no real intentions of doing so.
If she did start seeing Kingsley, of course, it would turn into something serious. In a nutshell, she was almost agreeing to marry him now. But on the bright side, they would both be in the same line of work, have a stable home together and everyone would be ecstatic with their union. What was the worse that could happen?
"Then why don't you show me what does?" Amelia prompted, offering Kingsley a look that was inviting and understanding.
As much as Kingsley liked Amelia, he didn't quite fashion their first kiss in a dimly lit corridor outside of the Ravenclaw Tower. He would have hoped they might get to know each other first. But in all honestly, they already knew everything about each other. Edgar had done a good job of slipping obscure facts about the other into his conversations. It was hardly subtle, but it was certainly helpful.
Kingsley already knew Amelia's favorite ice cream flavor, what she preferred on her waffles, who her favorite author was, why she liked winter, her biggest pet peeve. Raspberry, powered sugar and Vermont Maple Syrup, Robert Frost, because the snow looked like diamonds, and dishonesty. It was almost as though they had been together all this time and were just getting around to accepting it.
Just the same, it wasn't really fair. Kingsley should woo her and be a gentleman, not put the moves on his best mate's little sister because she was looking at him through those unbelievably blue eyes.
"Lia-" Kingsley began, ready to block his own shot because it was 'the right thing to do.' Sometimes, he hated being a Gryffindor. But before he could explain his reasoning, she cut him off.
"Kingsley." Amelia started. "I know what Edgar's been trying to do and I know you've been going along with it."
"It's not like that-" He began again. He hated for Amelia to think that he was shallow and was only chasing after her because he could. Genuinely, he liked her, and he wanted her to know that.
"Regardless." She interrupted. "I'm starting to think that maybe Edgar wasn't completely wrong." She said, her eyes softer then he had ever seen them.
Kingsley was, indeed, surprised and a little elated. This meant a number of things, one of them being that he was free to spend time with Amelia without feeling like she didn't want him around, because obviously, she did. Now, he wouldn't have to second guess himself if he sat next to her at dinner and all thoughts of 'is this okay?' could be laid to rest. Kingsley opened his mouth to speak when Amelia spoke again.
"And if you tell him I said any of that I promise that I will hex the daylights out of you." She said with a teasing grin.
"Okay." Kingsley said, laughing. "I won't say anything."
Kingsley looked at Amelia in the dimly lit corridor, seeing her in the light he had always wanted to, but had resisted for so long. Her features were soft, and even in the darkness the navy of her irises were impeccable. Her cheekbones were strong and without even trying, she emitted confidence. Without even touching it, her knew the texture of her hair was fine. His eyes warmed over her face, memorizing each detail, because now, he could.
Without the hesitation he had harbored before, Kingsley rubbed his thumb across her cheek, her skin smooth and cool, and the light powder of her foundation against his fingertips. They were not terribly far apart, but it was enough of a distance that Kingsley had to take two steps to close the gap.
With a sweep of her eyelashes, Kingsley placed his lips swiftly against her own, her mouth warm and inviting, perhaps more then it should have been. Regardless, Kingsley inhaled the scent of her, his bottom lip dancing with her own. He was taller then she was and she had to tilt her head upwards to reach him, and he took notice of her nerves. She was small and he let his hands rest on her hips, his fingers curving perfectly around her frame. It was like a puzzle and together they were a sung fit.
Kingsley pulled away after a moment and opened his eyes to find her own blue orbs looking back at him. Her lips were a pale pink, her cheeks flushed - even in the light he could tell - and her eyelashes swept over her eyes, a bit stunned. Her hands rested on his upper arms and she looked at him in a way that she never had before. A way that suggested that he was the only person she wanted to be with. Her hair fell around her face and the navy blue of the ribbon she wore in her hair caught the light, just so, making her even more dreamlike then he remembered.
For Kingsley Shacklebolt, Amelia Bones was perfect.
Amelia let Kingsley kiss her for two reasons. The first, because she wanted to know what it would feel like. The second, because she had nothing better to do. She was not seeing anyone and did not have any plans on seeing anyone. The harm in dating Kingsley even if she wasn't fully interested was minimal for Amelia. They got along, liked each other well enough and in so many ways, it was bound to happen.
His breath was hot against her and she could smell the cherry scent of his skin. The threads of his tie brushed along her neck and she felt a shiver run through her. She thought for a moment that this was the feeling. The feeling one is supposed to get when they find the one. After he pulled away to look at her though, she surmised that it was just the texture of his clothing.
The chestnut amber of his eyes made her focus. She knew that she appeared to be enthralled by him, but in reality, she was stunned by the pigment of his eyes. They were beautiful and she immediately felt guilty for thinking that they would look even better on someone she really wanted to be with.
For Amelia Bones, Kingsley Shacklebolt was substantial.
Amelia offered Kingsley a smile as he disappeared into the darkness. When she traveled to France over the summer, Emmeline had insisted that Amelia read the dozens of broken spine Jane Austen novels that she read time and time again. Amelia had protested, claiming that her academic reading was much more important but Emmeline had insisted.
At first, Amelia was reluctant. She had no interest in the trappings of love – she wasn't meant for that sort of thing. But through Emmeline's persistence of 'this will be your year,' Amelia consumed page after page of Miss Austen's novels. The story of Elinor and Edward in Sense and Sensibility – how she suppressed her adoration for a man that was not meant for her. The blind affection between in Emma between Emma and Knightly, who proposes at the novels end. Amelia frequently slipped herself into the heroine's shoes, creating that face of the mean she'd fallen in love with. She knew that in her heart one day a gentleman with good intentions would steal her own affection. And in her recent conversation with Kingsley, whose own name mirrored that of Knightly, Amelia thought that maybe she had found him. Yes, perhaps that maybe she had. She brushed her hair away from her face along with the fact that Kingsley had not, as Mr. Darcy had done with Elizabeth Bennett, rendered her speechless.
Shackled - Vertical Horizon