Getting to Know the Ravenclaw Champion *Open*

Marco had been sitting unnoticed in his usual spot, an over large lounge chair that he could disappar into the cushions of and be completely unnoticed. So for a moment he watched the others, immediately not liking either of them, but then again he didn't really like very many people. Christabelle was one of the rare exceptions. So we have a Ickle Firstie who is being petulent, and a jealous little girl who simply cannot be happy for those around her. he thought to himself, he read people quite easily, and these two weren't trying to hide their true natures. Gods why hadn't he been placed in Slytherin...

He pulled himself from the cushioned chair and stood behind Christy. I think it an excellent reason to celebrate. Present company excepted, or included makes me no mind either way. He knew the way to the kitchens and he had Na'La, so he offered, Allow me to gather suitable refreshments, my Lady. His eyes met the other two he was forced to share a House with and he bowed politely, already heading to the exit. He wasn't going to settle for mere kitchen supplies, but he knew he could arrange for other libations once he was downstairs. A soft whistle and his flame green Augurey flitted to his side looming larger than life and ready for a mission.

Christabelle's response was predictable, and filled with her overwhelming abundance of "charm". She always spoke as if she were doing the right thing, the best thing, helping others achieve her level of greatness, but what Christabelle failed to realize is that not everyone aspired to be her. Not everyone wanted to be noticed and fawned over. Some people simply wanted to get through school with unscathed.

Amelia hadn't had a reply ready on her lips, but it seemed the boy who had been sitting quietly on the floor near the fire had a tongue much sharper than hers. He was ready with a comment she had not expected of someone so young, especially in the presence of an intimidating older girl. His comment drew Amelia attention to him and she found that he was looking back at her, although his words were clearly addressed to Christabelle. He had a look in his eyes that seemed to say, I saw that, but Amelia wrote it off as a trick of the light. No one had yet to see through her facade, and she hardly thought it possible of someone who looked no older than twelve.

The two continued their banter, seemingly without needing input from Amelia. She was all too pleased to simply observe the spat between two individuals who seemed highly unlikely dueling partners in this war of words. Christabelle, never one to hide how wealthy and wonderful she was, continued to point out that this party was meant to lavish her housemates with "indulgences", though Amelia thought it far more likely that she wanted to have this party to draw further attention to her glory.

The young boy, whose name she had not yet caught, seemed only to antagonize the older girl. Amelia was surprised at the maturity of his wit as he countered her arguments with words like barbed-wire. Perhaps the two had met before and had already formed negative opinions of one another, but either way they clearly were not seeing eye to eye on the subject of celebrating Christabelle's continued good fortune.

"I doubt very much that even Christabelle's riches could make such a lofty purchase," Amelia interjected, looking directly at the boy with a hint of admiration that he had taken on such an intimidating rival. She knew this was exactly the point he had been trying to make with his statement, but Amelia feared Christabelle would soon resort to wands rather than words, and no matter how sharp the boy's tongue, no first or second year was going to be able to match the spellwork of a sixth year.

"I'm sure Christabelle had something far more materialistic in mind," Amelia said, keeping her voice plaintive so even if the blond girl by chance caught on to her annoyance about the way she flaunted of all her good fortune, she couldn't make any direct accusations.

"All the best that money can buy," she added, turning to Christabelle with a smile pasted on her face, far from genuine, but having practiced it enough times at her parents' social events, she knew its disingenuous nature would escape detection.

"Thank you love." she replied to Marco ignoring the boys comment. She couldn't stand people not being nice when she extended the hand of kindness something she very rarely did. She didn't feel as if everyone deserved her to have the heart of gold that she once had and her heart had iced over a bit since coming to Hogwarts. "Of course Amelia...but I wouldn't use such a fake smile...Its far too political if you ask me."

Marco gladly escaped from the room momentarily, urging his Irish Phoenix to follow him and ignore the tensions in the room. Na'La was a very curious bird, and he loved to be in the room when strife and conflict were present. He gave Marco a thin cry but followed. He knew they were going to bend a few rules and he was content that this diversion would be acceptable.

Marco stole away through the castle, using Na'La's acute hearing to detect any wardens in the night who prowled the corridors. Marco had one of the most useful familiars in the castle, he could transport Marco and others by his strength, he had healing properties in his tears as all phoenix do, and he was a very smart bird. Tonight this helped them escape detection twice as they passed teachers in the corridors.

Marco took his time getting the food, he even sent Na'La out to get some butterbeer and other sundries that wouldn't be in the castle. He wanted to hurry, but he wanted to do this correctly. So it took him a little while and a bit of respite before he had to return to the strong personalities back in the Common room.

Amelia's temper flared as she was called out on her facade, her eyes widening as she fought the urge to pull out her wand and use one of her father's unapproved spells on the snooty blond. The other boy in the room that she had failed to notice, hidden as he was in a large chair, clearly approved of Christabelle far more than she or the other young boy did.

His alliance with Christabelle only reasserted Amelia's perception of the girl, and though she had flushed at Christabelle's words, she was not embarrassed enough to be chased from the room by a overly confident bimbo and yet another boy who bowed at her feet. The young boy by the fire had deserted his lines now that the conversation in the room had become more heated than the fire, so Amelia lowered her voice when she responded to Christabelle's remark.

"Well, I wouldn't think so highly of myself," Amelia challenged, "Smug isn't a good look on anyone, not even someone as pretty as you," she added, raising an eyebrow to show that she wasn't going to be intimidated by Christabelle and whatever gaggle of followers she could gather. Amelia might be quiet, but she was not cowardly. She was stubborn as they came, and she would stand her ground if she needed to, even if later on she might regret what she said.

"Oh I don't think highly of myself." she replied to Amelia a little said to see that NaLa had to follow Marco. She was quite attached to the phoenix even though he wasn't hers, she still showed him attention and affection as such. "I'll see you two in a bit." she replied as they left the common room off to get the things that Marco would find that they needed. She had meant to tell him to let her know if anything was of cost and she would of course pay for it.

She turned her attention to the girl before her. It wasn't often that she had problems making friends but this girl was proving to yet be a difficult task for her. She liked having friends and so far she really didn't have many her age at Hogwarts...Something that had perplexed her since she had arrived but then again with everything going on with the confederacy and spending more time with her cousin, Nick and Marco she really didn't think about making friends. That would have to be something she considered changing.

"Amelia, you do know that there is a difference between being confidant and smug correct?" she asked raising her eyebrow to the girl. "Veelas are never smug, they are confident in the things that they do." She hadn't even bothered to try to cover up her German accent a bit. "Besides you have to be rather confident when you are the daughter of the German minister of magic. You can't afford to have any flaws visible in that spotlight."

Amelia could tell Christabelle was sizing her up after she spoke, the way the girl's eyes raked across her made it clear. The girl also looked slightly confused by Amelia, as though she couldn't quite figure the girl out. Christabelle could not be blamed for this, though, because Amelia intentionally kept parts of herself hidden from the masses, preferring to carry her secrets close to her chest.

When Christabelle spoke next she had taken on a serious tone that was not menacing, as Amelia had thought it would be, but rather spoken like she really wanted to get a point across. This made Amelia's tension release just slightly, her attention piqued by the change in Christabelle's demeanor.

I knew she was a Veela... Amelia thought when the blond girl got to that part of her explanation. It explained her beauty, the natural draw she seemed to have on people, and also why she behaved the way she did. Amelia listened carefully as Christabelle explained her perceived difference between confidence and smugness, and Amelia had to admit that the girl had a point. When she had finished speaking, Amelia could feel the muscles in her hands relaxing from the way they had balled themselves up and she took a moment to take in what the girl had said.

Uncrossing her arms, Amelia put a hand at the back of her neck, a characteristic move of hers when she was trying to figure out the best way to say something. She was trying to understand where Christabelle was coming from, and the girl had spoken with something that suggested she was trying to make Amelia understand something. When Amelia finally settled on her words, she spoke slowly, focusing on speaking plaintively and without accusation.

"There is a difference between smug and confident," Amelia admitted, looking Christabelle in the eyes to convey that she was taking the conversation seriously and that she had lost her tone of sarcasm, "But there are more gracious ways to go about being confident. You have a habit of flaunting everything you have at all times, and sometimes..." Amelia paused, trying to find a way to say what she wanted to without invoking the veela's rage, "... sometimes it can be difficult for the rest of us to find you approachable when the spotlight is shining so brightly."

Amelia shrugged as she finished speaking, not knowing what else to say. She was not expecting Christabelle to understand what she had said, but some part of her hoped that she would at least listen to what Amelia thought. She had given Christabelle a chance to speak and had tried to see in her something beyond the beautiful looks, the famous family, and the winning charm. She didn't need Christabelle's approval, but she would like to have her attention now that she had chosen to speak her mind.

Even though he required sending Na'La out for some of the treats, Marco still made it back to the tower quicker than he'd like. He followed Christy because she had won his allegiance, she was a strong diplomatic individual and he was drawn to those like himself. She had earned his vow of protection and loyalty, something not easily given from him, he really enjoyed being Gay; her Veela charm just wasn't potent on him...Godric's on the other hand affected him tho he tried to fight it.

He recited the answer to the riddle the portrait asked and pushed into the common rooms. He was perceptably pleased to see that most of the tensions had cooled. He affixed the charming smile on his face at this fact and led Na'La into the room. The Augurey was carrying a large parcel and Marco accioed a large table to spread the bounty over. There were cases of butterbeer, and fresh pastries from the bakery in Hogsmeade, along with sweets from Honeydukes and other treats from farther locales. Marco payed for what he needed through writs of laden, which propreitors were accustomed to from the reclusive Irishman.

He looked at the small gathering and hoped more would come now that they could smell food in the air. He took out bottles of butterbeer and offered them round with a toast to commonality amongst Housemates first, and Christy's success second. It was his way of making peace and he was certain Christy would understand his good intentions and know he wasn't slighting her but raising her Champion status to higher recognition in the common good.

Na'La landed lightly on his shoulder and seemed to survey the scene blissfully. You can have a treat later, love. he told him, and Marco knew he understood. Na'La settled down and closed one eye being watchful but relaxed.

Keith watched the back and forth exchange between the two girls, his liking for the quiet one growing enormously over the course of the conversation. Tempers had been getting high, and she had- hopefully -disarmed them beautifully. The boy though, was a bit of a conundrum. He acted like a slave towards Christabelle, and Keith couldn't quite grasp his mannerisms. His eyes seemed to change colors several times over the course of the conversation, most notably when he was talking to or of Christabelle.

The butterbeer was passed around, and Keith took one without comment. Sarcastic words were all well and good, but when it came right down to it, Keith was never one to turn down free food. The butterbeer was already having a warming effect on him, and he felt decidedly happier, turning his attention once again to the people in the room.

The girl whose name he didn't know was definitely used to keeping secrets, the suppressed eye roll was testament to that, as Keith had almost missed it. She was more refined in her insults than Keith, while he went for the quick, immediate, sarcastic effect, her insults made you think, and then left you feeling very stupid. She was stubborn and had a tongue as sharp- or was it sharper? -than Keith's own.

Christabelle, no matter what she did, seemed very full of herself to Keith. It occurred to him that perhaps she was trying to do the right thing in her mind, though that in no way changed his opinion of her. He was not surprised of her veela heritage, and had to work hard to suppress a Nazi comment when she mentioned her german father. He managed to, however, and decided to wait and see how this played out.

Ginevra seriously couldn’t believe the fact that she was walking in at this exact point. She was freezing- that much was easily told by looking at her flushed cheeks once she had passed the eagle’s question and entered upon her own free will. Finding what seemed to be like a party wasn’t what she had expected but really, she hadn’t expected much because she hadn’t paid attention. What amused Ginevra the most was the fact that there was somewhat of a beef going on. Two girls were going back at each other with comments that were calm, but tempers rising in the air. It was just something you could feel, all the tenseness in the bodies and the annoyance getting held back in the breath they breathed. Yawning, she only watched at first, waving over at Keith because in her view, he was a pretty cool kid. They had been together last night when she came in late. It was the first time they had met and she had helped him with homework, nothing big but she admired his uniqueness that he portrayed, which was a pretty hard thing to do since most people just were on Ginevra’s bad side from the start. She didn’t get along with many people and lately, she wasn’t in the mood too. Friends weren’t what she needed- they would only be in danger, which was not what she would get anyone into, ever. There were far worst things, that being one of them, than being lonely. She had learned that when her mom, dad and sister were gone from her life. No one else had to die for her to learn her lesson, as far as she was concerned. So usually, this would mean she stayed back but the burning desire to have the chance to speak up to Christabelle was just irresistible.

Moving across the Ravenclaw common room, she stopped just a few feet away from the other girls, her eyes now only focusing on the girl who claimed she was not smug or full of herself in any way whatsoever. Ginevra knew that was the biggest batch of bull crap that had ever been let out, and if anyone else didn’t they were nuts. Holding her breath for a moment, she let it out before speaking. ”First off, why is there a spotlight? No one should get more attention for anyone and as far as I’m concerned, it’s pathetic that you’re trying to announce once again that you’re rich to everyone around you when frankly, half of us don’t give a damn what social status you’re on! Christabelle, really, you are smug, and you are full of yourself. Being a veela doesn’t matter anymore than being a vampire, werewolf, human, seer- anything! So just stop this before you embarrass yourself. You just got the honor of being the second Ravenclaw champion and my last question has to be why even throwing yourself your own party? Why not wait for someone to do it for you? Answer that one without making yourself sound like all of the things that people are thinking of you right now and maybe you’ll be considered normal and not stuffed in with who you are and what you have over all.’ So clearly Ginevra had gone on for awhile, and she knew it so if anyone didn’t really get it, she wouldn’t find herself surprised. Saying everything, she wasn’t sure where she had been leading wit anyone of it. Rambling was her habit lately and so everything she was thinking was let out, even it was rude. Ginevra didn’t care what people thought about her for what she said, it was only the truth of what she thought as an opinionated person.