Getting to Know the Ravenclaw Champion *Open*

Christabelle had turned from Amelia, "Excuse me." she said as Marco came back in and said he would give his pet a treat later. She picked up something sweet and held it out to NaLa to take. "Honestly Marco I think he did his fair share of work." she said as she took a butterbeer and stroked the phoenix's head lovingly. She turned around when she heard the snide comment of the girl she knew to be a substitute on her quidditch team.

"Really Gin, if you had even a tenth of sense in the little werewolf brain of yours then you would realize that I was throwing this party for the house and not really myself." she replied looking at Ginerva. "If you honestly don't want any of this which others seem to be enjoying then take your flea bitten self somewhere else. No one likes a party pooper as it is. And as it stands you quite frankly are smelling up the place with your sour tones."

Ginevra just looked at her, arms crossed and hip out. She really wasn't going to backdown, especially not after the girl had just said her secret out loud. No one knew about her being a werewolf and she had planned to keep it that way, but apparently Chrisabelle didn't know what a secret was. "I should slap you for that, but i'm more of a puncher and I really don't think you want a shiner when you go out in front of that huge crowd. Her eyes cold for the first time in awhile, this wouldn't turn pretty if she kept on going with what Ginevra now was known as for a title that had yet to be given. People seemed to like to title her because of how she was with presenting herself, but really, what was that to her? "Unlike you, I remember to apply deodorant in the morning because I know it's not only looks that count. As for this being a house party- what's with it surrounded around the champion of the Ravenclaw house? It's not all glory, I would know because unlike you, I have one this tournament, saw people die and know when to shut my mouth before it's shut for me." It was a threat coming out of her mouth, yes, but really, what good would it do with her just backing down and going to bed? None, in Ginevra's eyes- as she meant every single word she was letting escape her mouth.

Christabelle had clearly been taken aback by what Amelia said, because her response was a long time coming. In the meantime, food and drinks had arrived, brought by the blond boy whose name Amelia had not been able to gather yet. The tension in the room seemed to have eased some by the arrival of what appeared to be enough food to feed the entirety of Hogwarts, and Amelia knew that this would be her, and Christabelle's, chance to give themselves some space to sort out their feelings about what they had just said.

"Just think about it, okay?" Amelia said somewhat hesitantly, losing her edge as she gained an audience. She wasn't exceedingly comfortable talking to anyone, much less a room full of people she barely knew. Her piece said, Amelia finally stepped down from the last stair and descended toward the spread of food the boy had put out. The younger one had already laid claim to a butterbeer, but Amelia moved toward the pastries first. Amelia had a slight sweet tooth, and with all the bitterness she had been feeling toward Christabelle, perhaps a bit of sugar would do her some good.

She nodded her thanks toward the older blond boy who had delivered the food, hoping she might be able to do some damage control with him and rectify herself from the low opinion he must have of her based on what he had just witnessed. Just as she was taking her first bite of a warm rhubarb compote, the door to the Ravenclaw common room opened and yet another person Amelia didn't know stepped through.

It seems Christabelle may get the party guests she wanted afterall... Amelia thought, watching the geeseflesh on the girl's skin descend as she adapted to the warmth of the room. Amelia thought she looked vaguely familiar, but she didn't have much time to think about it before the girl seemed to spontaneously combust at the sight of Christabelle. Two minutes of shouting later, the girl stood adamantly in the middle of the room, staring at Christabelle as though she wished the veela would burst into flame.

And I thought I had a problem with Christabelle... Amelia thought, clearly the lesser threat in the room now that the screeching girl had arrived.

"This party is off to a great start," Amelia commented with a sigh, taking a seat next to the younger blond boy. She had no idea how to deal with the newly arrived girl and her temper, much less bring the room together as a whole. Instead, she continued to take small bites of the compote, keeping her mouth firmly closed for everything except eating. After having watched the spectacle the other girl had made of herself, Amelia thought it might be best to keep quiet for now to avoid making the same scene.

Why, oh why, didn't I just stay in my room?

Keith nodded back towards Gin. He liked her. She had helped him with his homework, which was no easy feat for someone like Keith. He couldn't imagine ever being able to stand doing homework enough to help someone do theirs, and she seemed like a pretty nice girl.

And then she blew up at Christabelle.

Well this is unexpected. Keith thought to himself. Where he and Amelia had calmly and cooly ridiculed Christabelle's "need" for a party, Gin simply threw fire. Apparently she and Christabelle hadn't gotten off to suck a hot start. Keith grinned slightly. He liked fights. Fights were more entertaining than sitting around the common room watching a stupid veela talk about how pretty and popular and talented she is.

The older girl sat next to Keith, with much the same expression, minus the amusement and anticipation. She was eating a pastry Keith vaguely recognized but couldn't name, and Keith nodded towards her. She looked cautious, like she was trying her best not to get involved. Keith understood that, though this thing was likely to get violent, and if she wasn't prepared to act then she'd get some pretty nasty jinxes headed her way...

Usually Ginevra was exactly like Amelia. Being content had been how she was aiming lately as there was no way she liked attention. Especially since she had become what she was, Ginevra had stayed away from the people who surrounded her. Sighing, she couldn't take it anymore and that was why she had broken out. Her random moments of just needing an outburst, no matter the crowd- though no crowd would have been preferred for B**** someone out over small things that could have been pointed out calmly. Holding back a sarcastic comment towards Amelia, she had nothign against the girl and didn't plan on getting anything to start something bad towards her either. It wasn't like she was looking for an arguement.

Marco stood near the food, calmly observing. He wasn't going to stoop to trading words, actions were ever so much more effective. His silence should be enough to tell all that he didn't want to get invoived in this tiff. He really didn't understand it, to say the least. It wasn't Christy's fault she had been named champoin... and why not have a party? Life was far too short to not celebrate every little thing that you had chance to. Even his dark heart understood that.

He fed off the negative emotions in the room; his black heart gathering the hatred and negativity like a sponge. He was the unknown here, a position he rather enjoyed, and he wasn't one to shy away from any challenge. He had seen the looks he'd been given, a mistaken thought of servitude and meekness. No he had really just wanted to enjoy the moment. Now he tensed, he saw the challenge in the youngest boy's eyes, felt the resignation in the girl who sat by him's aura, and bathed in the angry indignant darkness rolling off the other girl in palpable waves. If there was to be fighting he was certain to be in the midst of it. One corner of his lips turned up as he selected morsel of a belgian chocolate and slipped it into his mouth.

The bittersweetness of the dark chocolate flooded over his tongue and he waited. Turquoise eyes had solidified with golden hardness, he pulled the flask seemingly from thin air and uncapped it tipping the contents into his mouth. The liquid washed away the lingering remnant of the chocolate and he surveyed the group again as he slipped the flask away again. Na'La made a slow circuit around the room, flaming green feathers soaking in the dark emotions as Marco had. Marco chuckled darkly as he saw Na'La's feathers flickering with flame; golden eyes catching his. The Irish Phoenix was on edge; ready to combust from the heated tenseness of the room. His cry of delight sounded echoing in the too small room for the strength of it. To Marco it was music to his ears...

"That was a low comment even for you Gin." she said looking at the girl, "I'm not letting you upset me because that would only give you what you want and I don't think you deserve to see that side of me." she retorted to Gin. "Besides if you're going to hit me, there is something called the hospital wing in this school and I'd rather you do it in front of a bunch of witnesses that would confirm you started the entire spat and I didn't lay a hand on you. Now excuse me." she said as she walked over to Marco.

Her face didn't betray her emotionless look on her face as she put a smile on her face and picked up a piece of chocolate and placed it delicately into her mouth savoring the flavor it left on her tongue as she swallowed it. "Well I think we've come to a fine start, what about you Marco?" she asked the boy who had become one of her best friends since his arrival and hers at the school.

"Besides if you're going to hit me, there is something called the hospital wing in this school and I'd rather you do it in front of a bunch of witnesses that would confirm you started the entire spat and I didn't lay a hand on you. Now excuse me."

Keith really didn't want to poke the fire anymore than it had already been prodded, but it wasn't often you were handed such a perfect line like that, and he couldn't help but seize the opportunity. "I don't know..." He said, grinning slightly. "I'm pretty sure you threw the first punch Christabelle. Gin here was just defending herself." He took a gulp of butterbeer and watched the boy Christabelle had called Marco closely. His eyes were a dark gold now, and his pet was circling ominously. His posture had shifted to a more aggressive form, and Keith felt his hand drifting closer to the wand in his pocket.....

Ginevra wouldn't have even cared if she got in trouble for punching a girl, it wasn't like she was innocent. She had always had a temper within her, so when she lashed out it was just how she was. Shaking her head, it was real sad how Christie thought that walking away was noble of her. Usually it would be, but her speech had just made her seem cocky. Smirking, she couldn't really help but let out a light chuckle at Keith. He was really something. "Apparently you're making stories, and as for that being low, it was only the truth. You do stink- i'm surprised people haven't fained from the stench of BO yet. When it comes to the tournament, when it comes to watching people die, I personally do not think you can take it." the affect it had on a person with real emotions and care in their hearts was something, she would defintiely know. Chrsitabelle seemed way too into herself to care about others lives. She was obviously most likely wrong on that fact, but it was how the girl gave herself off. Having eyes Mario already, she was catious everywhere she went so therefore she had her wand where she could grab it easily if needed.

Amelia was growing tired just watching all the people in the room fight to be at the top of the heap. Knowing she was nowhere near as invested in the whole charade as the rest of them, Amelia could not bring herself to pick sides or even to follow the conversation as it continued to bubble over like an overflowing cauldron... of lava.

She caught bits and pieces as Christabelle defending herself against the new girl, clearly not having had time to absorb all of what Amelia had said earlier, although Amelia had to defend her actions at least a little bit because how does one react to such a blatant and unprovoked attack? Amelia would have stood there dumbfounded, completely at a loss for words, and then likely have retreated back to her room, not from fear, but rather to just take herself out of the situation entirely. Christabelle seemed to just let the whole thing roll right off her back, which was commendable, if not completely understandable.

Although it was easy to tune out most of what the others were saying, the boy on the floor was in such close proximity to her that he was difficult to overlook. Amelia found him amusing and his remarks witty, although they may not have been the best choice for keeping himself out of the way of whatever hexes Christabelle and - Marco, was it? - may dream up. She did not know how he had adapted such a sarcastic tone so early in life, but that didn't keep her from approving of his effective use of it. Although she had held her tongue since her confrontation with Christabelle, this boy evidently had not been so adamant about sticking to his choice to do the same.

As Amelia finished her last bite of compote, she looked up to find the new girl exploding again. She thought she had overheard Christabelle calling the girl "Gin", but with the amount of attention Amelia had been paying to the whole thing, it was just as likely that Christabelle had been referring to the alcohol. The girl looked like she could use some. The negativity in the room was palpable, and although the veela didn't show any outward sign of battery, Amelia knew the tirades must be taking their toll.

Sighing, Amelia stood up from the chair and forced herself to move closer to the center of the room where the food was displayed. Picking up a pair of butterbeers, Amelia pulled her wand from her pocket, tapping the bottles thrice and watching as the liquid in the first bottle turned blue, the second silver.

"In honour of Ravenclaw," Amelia said, uncapping the bottles and extending one toward Christabelle, hoping the gesture might cut the tension that had been building in the room. Admittedly, Christabelle was not her favorite person in the world, but Amelia had learned early on that enemies didn't make life any easier. Avoiding people altogether did (in Amelia's opinion), but it seemed that ship had already sailed tonight.

"A toast to our success," Amelia added, her intentional use of the plural possessive chosen specifically to take a bit of the focus off Christabelle and put it on Ravenclaw as a whole, something her peers might be more willing to support. She raised her own bottle in the air and waited to see if the others would do the same.