Amelia hadn’t been able to laugh at the situation, but Elijah – as usual –proved himself capable of what she was not. His smile, from what she could tell, was not based in nerves or embarrassment, but rather legitimately humoured at what had just occurred. His eyes darted over to meet hers, the laughter dancing in them. For the first few moments, Amelia enjoyed what she saw in his expression: a happiness she kept from herself. While she would have observed this expression for a considerable amount of time had Elijah not been looking back at her, Elijah’s gaze lingered longer than she expected, causing her to look away after the first few seconds with a rejuvenated blush.
Because she looked away, Amelia had not seen the raking stare Elijah had made over her body, the way he noticed things he hadn’t before. It was probably for the best that she was oblivious to this, because she likely would not have understood what it meant. Amelia wasn’t accustomed to catching anyone’s attention, and if she did, she managed to ostracize whomever it was that was looking at her before they had a chance to look for long. Amelia had never considered herself any great beauty – actually, she had never given the idea much thought at all – so she likely would have thought Elijah was being critical instead of appreciative, the way most people were when they stared at her.
Amelia raised her eyebrows at Elijah’s suggestion that he could tell them stories to debilitate the boys’ libidos, wondering what from Elijah’s history might even come close to achieving that goal. She didn’t know many pubescent boys personally, but she had watched their flirtatious natures and the way they “graded” the girls who walked past them. While Christabelle often got a 9 or 10 and Myrtle got a 1 (or 2 at best), the boys cards stayed down when Amelia walked by. To them, the silent and sharp-eyed Ravenclaw wasn’t really worth rating. No matter what number her looks might earn, her personality was enough to keep them at bay.
Although her imagination ran wild with ideas, she decided not to ask Elijah just what those stories he spoke of might entail. If she wanted Elijah to stop asking questions, she wasn’t going to be able to ask all she wanted.
Besides, the imagination might have been better than the truth.
Amelia was so distracted by her subconscious suddenly being abducted by aliens – since when do I think things like that? – that she nearly missed what Elijah said about sleeping a bit before the day had to begin. It took her almost a full minute to process what he had said, and by then the pair of them had reached the Ravenclaw portrait. She stopped as Elijah did, turning to face him as he extended an invitation to her.
Are you even going to consider that? her mind asked in disbelief when Amelia did not immediately turn him down, Haven’t we had enough gallivanting around with strangers for one day?
Torn between what her rationality told her and what she wanted – since when did those not coincide? – Amelia did not manage to eloquate a response before Elijah transformed into the form she had originally seen him in when she stumbled blurry eyed from the common room. The portrait’s squeal voiced the surprise Amelia felt, though she herself stayed quiet, her wide eyes the only indication of her emotion.
Although she now knew the jungle cat to be Elijah, she didn’t think she would ever get used to him shifting shape in front of her. The chuckle which escaped him and his playful torture of the portrait was her only indication that this was still the Slytherin boy she had met yesterday. At least until she felt his silky coat rub against her bare legs. The chills which followed this gesture were enough to make Amelia close her eyes, every hair on her body standing on end. As if this weren’t enough, Amelia felt the warm moisture of his tongue on her hand, causing her to inhale sharply in surprise.
When she opened her eyes, she was not even sure what she was going to say in response, but by the time her lids were raised the tiger-form Elijah was already leaping from the banister down the stairs. He was too far away now to say much of anything at all, which worked out well because Amelia could not think of a single appropriate response. She wanted to reprimand him for the physical affection, which he knew she was opposed to, but the tingling that still remained in her fingers from when he had licked them kept her mouth closed. Amelia could not manage to explain what had just happened, nor why she had allowed it to happen in the first place, but it had happened none the less.
It seemed, one way or another, Amelia was going to end up in the Room of Requirement tonight. Elijah got everything else he wanted. Try as she might to stop it, and as many excuses as she could think of, Amelia knew that come nightfall, she would once again find herself in the presence of the very stubborn and perplexing character known only as Elijah Krum. And so, with few decisions of her own to make in the matter, Amelia picked up the pair of shoes which had started this whole endeavour, slung them over her wrist, and answered the portrait's riddle. The only choice she felt fit to make right now was the one that involved going back to her dormitory and falling into bed.
((You can go ahead and start the thread in the room of requirement if you want to. If you are busy elsewhere, then you don’t have to do it now. But if you do have the time, why stop a good thing? I usually look most forward to responding to your posts, so I would be remiss to take that away from myself if you have no objections.))