Amelia spun around with her wand raised in front of her at the popping sound of apparition. The spiders could not have followed her here, but she was probably not the only one to have thought of the owlery. Judging from the amount of noise coming from downstairs, the castle was being infiltrated quickly and the battle was being carried in with the people.
The first thing Amelia realized as she turned around was that she had to look up to see the face of the woman she was looking at. Amelia didn’t have to look up at most women – she was unusually tall herself – but this woman had a few inches on her. Amelia quickly scanned the woman’s short dark hair and smooth dark skin, flipping through her mental roster and coming up blank. Amelia didn’t know who was friend and who was foe in this battle – she didn’t really have a side declared, so it was that much harder to tell.
She didn’t have to wait long to find out, though. The woman didn’t seem to care to identify who it was she was facing, because she didn’t ask before declaring that she was planning to kill. The woman’s comment also revealed to Amelia that her disillusionment spell had finally worn off, leaving her fully visible except in rough patches on her calves where the magic was still wearing away.
Damn… that really would have been useful in such cramped quarters… Amelia thought, her mind trying to work its way around the terror that was threatening to creep up into her thoughts. She was facing what she knew to be a very dangerous woman – death threats in the first ten seconds were never a good sign – and Simon may as well have been stunned at this point for how useful he was being. Amelia needed more time, but without any knowledge of this woman or her plan of attack, the Ravenclaw girl didn’t know how to proceed.
“I would think that is one of the more common things to die for, actually,” Amelia said as her subconscious tried to buy her mind time by removing the filter between her mind and her mouth, giving this crazed woman a glimpse into the thought process that belonged to Amelia Lyons.
“Romeo and Juliet, Cleopatra and Mark Antony, Tristan and Isolde, Paolo and Francesca,” Amelia rattled off, ticking each one off on her fingers. It seemed that her subconscious was taking over for her, because Amelia’s rational mind never could have produced such coherent speech under the present circumstances. Hell, she couldn’t even create cohesive dinner conversation when she and Simon had been out that once – giving a likely Death Eater a lesson in tragic love stories definitely wasn’t something Amelia would do normally.
“Shame. Such a dramatic entrance, and then you blow it in the very first sentence,” Amelia’s subconscious provided, Amelia herself trying not to looked visibly stunned by the words coming out of her own mouth. Since when did her subconscious start running the show?
What am I doing? What the hell am I doing?
It’s not like you had any better ideas…. her subconscious defended, this time inside her own head.
Yeah, well this one is only a good idea until it gets us killed, Amelia retorted, gripping her wand tighter as she prepared for the worst.