Music of the Night

Amelia was surprised by the intelligent response she received from her insight about music and silence, not having anticipated it. She did not mean to be insulting when she raised her eyebrows in surprise at Landon’s rational, but she had simply been unprepared for him to acknowledge, much less understand, what she had said. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he spoke, giving him a sly look about him, or perhaps Amelia was just imagining it. The blush the rose in his cheeks was pale compared to her own – or at least it felt that way considering the heat Amelia could still feel beneath her cheeks – but it was noticeable none the less. Amelia could not help but wonder what could have provoked the colour in his cheeks – Amelia was familiar with blushing, but not with making others blush.

The boy who had interrupted her private concert could have been anyone, but instead it was this person, this boy who was more insightful than most of the rest of her peers and who clearly had a gift for conversation. Although she wanted to brush him off like she did everyone else, Amelia found it more difficult than usual to be blatantly rude to preserve her solitude. Landon was different than the people she usually encountered, which in turn made him more difficult to read.

“Music and silence are two halves of the same coin,” Amelia answered finally after giving herself a few moments to collect her thoughts. She could tell that her companion was intelligent and analytical, unique traits that Amelia admired, and therefore she was careful to form her argument in a way that would not be easily picked apart.

“One simply exists in the absence of the other, like darkness and light. Most people don’t notice the music in silence because they are too busy filling it with noise,” Amelia added, knowing that this last comment could possibly be interpreted as discourteous, but it was true. Amelia wasn’t exactly one to sugar coat her ideas. Either she kept them to herself or she was brutally honest. There was no middle ground.

Amelia was a bit thrown by Landon’s forward question about her parents making her play violin, though she thought the answer to that question must have been obvious. What four year old thinks, “You know what I would like to do? Learn to play violin. I’d really like to practice music for hours on end instead of playing with toys or friends”? But Amelia recognized that Landon was trying to make pleasant conversation, and since she could hardly have offered anything else to improve the flow of discussion, she moderated her sarcastic response to something more respectful.

“It was my mother’s idea. I started with classical music, but I have since broadened my horizons to involve a more modern style of music,” Amelia responded, choosing her words carefully. She had intentionally avoided asking the question of her favorite music to play, because she did not know Landon nearly well enough to admit to him that her favorite music to play was nothing he would have heard of, for it was music she made up as she went along, music she felt instead of notes she borrowed from someone else. Revealing that would either make her seem foolish or spark a request a demonstration of said music, neither of which Amelia was all that keen on.

At her prompt for requests, Landon’s eyes grew almost imperceptibly wider and only for a brief moment before he gave a nonchalant response, one that Amelia thought might have been designed that way, but without a better understanding of the boy she couldn’t have been sure. He was quick to change the subject, which Amelia didn’t overtly object to because she was not particularly invested in any one topic of conversation, but rather in figuring out the person with whom she was conversing. He was different, intriguing.

“You are perceptive,” Amelia responded honestly to Landon’s question, though the smile which lingered on his lips suggested that he was quite sure of himself to begin with, “I am a member of Ravenclaw house. And you…” Amelia thought for a moment. He could not be Ravenclaw, because as a prefect – ahem, Imperium Squad member. She would never get used to that – Amelia knew all members of her house by name and sight. Gryffindor was a possibility, but he didn’t seem bold enough in his conversation style. The Gryffindors were some that Amelia had to make an effort to avoid; they were risk takers, and she, well, wasn’t. Hufflepuff didn’t even cross her mind for a moment, which left only one choice.

“Slytherin?” Amelia finished, hoping she was correct because it would not say much for her skills of observation if this stranger was able to pick out her house so easily and she could not make the same correct conjecture.

Her response was indeed thought provoking; mainly because of the way in which she had said it. It allowed for there to always be one which was more prominent than the other, given which side of the coin was up, but the other still lingered unseen in the background. To be perfectly honest, he couldn't find any sort of fallacy in that statement. This was both irritating and admirable. Irritating because Landon was the sort of person who enjoyed debates but more so he enjoyed pointing out mistakes in the other person's logic. He was unable to do so in this situation. But it was admirable because there were only a handful of people who could sway him into seeing their side of things.

He gave her a small, lopsided smile, "You certainly do have a way with words," he told her honestly. While Landon chose to believe that he was intelligent, he would never say that he was the sort of person who could put his thoughts into eloquent sentences.

"There certainly aren't many who fill silence with something that improves it," he added, replying to her last statement. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he thought about that for a moment. Other than the time which he roamed around the castle at night, he couldn't remember ever being surrounded by silence while at Hogwarts. Even in the dead of the night when his dormmates were fast asleep, they still disrupted it with snoring and murmuring.

Landon still wasn't sure exactly why he had come into this room. Yes, there had been singing and music seeping through the ajar door but normally he would have bypassed that sort of situation. He wasn't one who generally sought out the company of others mainly because he wasn't all that much of a people-person. However, for whatever reason, he had ignored his desire for solitude and found himself in this situation. He couldn't have imagined a more interesting person to have encountered on a night when he actually felt like socializing.

He still wasn't sure if Amelia felt the same way. Though she seemed pleasant enough in conversation it was still somewhat obvious that she was rather uncomfortable. He had after all destroyed any solitude which she may have desired. However, she did seem like an honest person, so maybe she would have told him to leave if she had really wanted him to do so. With that thought, he cheered up slightly, hoping that the tension he was feeling would soon evaporate.

So he had been correct in his assumption; it was her parents' doing. But he had known that all along due to common sense. Though he noticed that she dodged answering his question, he let that slide. He was being a little nosy but he had always been that way. His curiosity got him into trouble quite frequently. "So which do you prefer then? The classics or more modern music?" He didn't think that question was all that personal so maybe she would feel more comfortable letting out that sort of information about herself.

She seemed more guarded than most people whom he spoke with. Privacy was something which many people didn't seem to find valuable anymore; that was something he had noticed recently. For instance, Sam who had put her heart out on the table in front of him...talking about vampires, love, and even crying right there in front of him though it was the first time she'd met him. She blatantly seemed to throw the notion of privacy out the window. Landon was a private person and he took great pride in that. This was his main reasoning behind asking people a lot of questions during conversation. Most people enjoyed talking about themselves and were happy to answer questions that focused around them. This left them talking about themselves while he could keep himself clear off the list of conversation topics.

A smile spread out on his face when she affirmed his suspicions. From what he knew of her, which granted wasn't much, she spoke in a manner which he would only believe that a Ravenclaw was capable of. "I had a feeling," he confessed with a small laugh. Though he wondered how she was able to guess that he was a Slytherin, he didn't ask. Though if she had guessed he was a Hufflepuff he may have thrown himself out the window. That house was a joke in his opinion. Though the few times he had uttered this thought outside of the Slytherin Dungeons he had gotten a lot of grief for it. So he was going to keep that opinion to himself for the time being. "Good guess," he joked while smirking slightly.

"So, what year are you?" he asked curiously. She surely was around his age.

The lopsided smiles and the subtle flattery had Amelia blushing, despite her best efforts to control it. Although Amelia could moderate and disguise most of her emotions, whenever she was embarrassed or flustered, everyone knew it. It was the blush, mostly, the patches of red which rose to her cheeks and made her freckles disappear as they meshed with the dark blotches. She couldn’t help but look away from Landon as he gave her a series of understated compliments, feeling a response to his words which was only natural, but exceedingly embarrassing, at least to Amelia.

Amelia was unaccustomed to anyone being so complimentary toward her and in turn, she did not know how to respond to it. Sure, she occasionally received the praise of her teachers for a properly executed spell or a well written assignment, and her parents’ friends doled out the usual compliments on how she was growing up to be such a lady (no matter how often her mother attested to the contrary). But those were not the same as what she was experiencing now. These were flattering remarks made without obligation or perceived gain, at least none that Amelia could figure. Without realizing it – or at least Amelia thought – Landon was making her squirm.

You say squirm like it is a bad thing… some hidden part of Amelia’s self conscious interjected slyly, surely noting that Amelia wasn’t exactly displeased with the complimentary nature of her conversation partner. He was rather good looking, though Amelia would never admit that thought had crossed her mind, nor would she admit that with him standing where he was, she could smell his cologne, unidentifiable but assuredly intriguing, much like the man who wore it.

What are you doing? You need to answer him! Amelia’s rational mind was screaming, taking over its usual place at the helm of her body and brushing aside the frivolous thoughts she had been entertaining. She was being foolish, letting things like hormones do the job that was intended for the nervous system. No wonder she was having such a difficult time forming coherent sentences.

“Each of type of music has its place,” Amelia responded diplomatically, the automatic response that her mother had ingrained into her. But was this an honest answer? Upon reflection, Amelia realized that although the diplomatic answer had merit, she was not being altogether truthful. Growing up, she had played so many classics that she had lost her liking for them; they brought up too many memories of hours and hours in front of the mirror, attempting to maintain perfect posture and play Debussy’s Promenade Faur.

“But I think I prefer modern music,” Amelia amended, only a few seconds too late. Hopefully, Landon wouldn’t notice her hesitation or at least ignore it. She had made so many social mistakes in this conversation already that he had overlooked that Amelia thought she had a distinct chance of getting away with this one as well.

Amelia was relieved when she correctly guessed Landon’s house, for Slytherins were a bit notorious for taking offense at being accidentally placed in any other house. Upon confirmation that she had been correct, the house seemed to fit Landon even more. Now that she knew where he had been sorted, Amelia was able to notice different things about him that made it more apparent where he belonged. Amelia could not help but wonder if the same phenomena had overtaken Landon upon learning she really was a Ravenclaw, but Amelia doubted it. He had seemed so certain to begin with.

“I am in my sixth year,” Amelia answered easily to Landon’s next question, wondering briefly afterward why Landon was showing such an interest in finding out about her. Typically, most people shied away from the “Ice Queen”, and that first blunt question likely would have scared off anyone else who might have approached her. So what made her so appealing to this boy, a relative stranger no more than fifteen minutes ago?

Both in an effort to restore order and to give herself more time to think of something pleasant to say, Amelia turned away from Landon and picked up her fallen bow. It didn’t seem to be visibly damaged by her dropping it, for which Amelia was thankful. After giving it a quick inspection, Amelia moved to the table on which she had set the case and placed the instrument and bow back in place. In a truly unladylike gesture that her mother would have disapproved of strongly, Amelia turned her back to the table and heaved herself onto it, the fabric of her worn in jeans sliding smoothly over the wooden surface. Come to think of it, there were so many things about this situation that her mother would have disapproved of that Amelia ought to stop making the list.

It had taken Amelia a few minutes to reach a point where she was relaxed enough to sit in Landon’s presence, but she seemed to have determined that he wasn’t a direct threat to her safety or independence. She was still curious about him, though. He had shown a definite interest in her, and as of yet, she had not capitalized on the answers he owed her; she had given him at least five answers, and had asked no questions in return. Now seemed as good a time as any to call in some of that debt.

“So, Mr. Rooney, what do you do when you are not roaming the halls in the middle of the night?” Amelia asked in what she hoped was a conversational and not accusatory manner. She had a tendency to come off as rather more harsh than she meant to a good deal of the time and had to be conscious not to insult people when she meant well.

The red splotches on her cheeks were beginning to make Landon curious. For what reason was she blushing? Was it something he had induced or was she merely just that uncomfortable within the conversation? Unfortunately there were no bright, flashing signs which pointed him to the correct answer, and he could hardly ask, so he was going to have to make his own assumptions. It was a bit unnerving how she wouldn't even look at him directly though he tried his best not to feel offended by it. Because, unlike the other person in the room, he was having an awful hard time keeping his eyes off of her.

Though a brief silence was residing between the two of them, Landon hardly noticed. He was too busy trying to figure the girl out. She seemed to have an inner poise which did not exactly match with the outward awkwardness though somehow complimented it nonetheless. She was someone to be taking seriously or at least the way she held herself made him feel as though that were the case. Though the one physical attribute he found the most enchanting were here eyes. Unlike the mostly vacant expressions he received from classmates, they actually had depth stirring beneath the surfaces. This was more than attractive in his books.

One thing that was separating this girl from the rest of them were the things which she was stirring up inside of him. Sure, he was used to be finding other females physically attractive, one of his friend's was part veela for goodness sakes. But she not only got the hormonal part of his teenage body revving (which isn't all that hard to do given that he's a teenage boy) but she also did something for him intellectually which rarely happened. There was even something endearing about her awkwardness in conversation though he had a difficult time figuring out exactly why that was.

Her answer sounded...rehearsed. To be honest though, he had been expecting an answer somewhere along those lines. She seemed to be dealing out as little information about herself as possible while still answering his questions. However, before he was able to respond she added on something which gave the answer a bit more personality. He gave her a smile, "You know, I don't really know all that much modern music," he confessed, mainly so he wouldn't have to bullshit his way through a conversation when he knew virtually nothing about the topic.

Secondly because it built him up for this line, "Maybe you can educate me," he offered in what he hoped was a smooth fashion. So it wasn't exactly a suave line; he knew that. But it was something that could hint at a possible future between the two of them...a friendship if anything. How she responded would hopefully give him a hint on if he'd be seeing her again after tonight.

"Same," he told her with a brief smile. Though he had figured she was around that age all along. He wouldn't have been all that surprised if she had turned out to be a seventh year; she seemed to have more maturity than most sixteen year old girls. In an attempt to find out more about her he asked, "So when do you turn seventeen?"

Landon was a little unnerved by the fact that he was not only asking her questions in order to avoid the subject of himself but also to find out more about her. Normally he didn't have this much curiosity in others, unless they did something peculiar. The best example he could think of that would have been Samantha...what with getting married at the age of fourteen and all. That was certainly something he was sure he would never understand.

But his curiosity in Amelia was different than that. He didn't find her peculiar or odd in a way which made him want to know how she thought or viewed different things. There was something which was far more intriguing about her; something he was undeniably attracted to but was something which he couldn't find the words to describe.

He was glad to see that she had sat down; it showed a sort of comfort which she certainly didn't have in the beginning of their conversation. He was sorely tempted to sit beside her but was unsure if that would be an invasion of personal space, which was something that he valued himself. He didn't want to be pushing any boundaries this early in the game. Instead, he leaned against the wall to stop him from joining her on the table.

Ah. Now she had turned the conversation around to him. He wasn't necessarily a fan of this particular question as he never really did anything of interest. He felt as though he was pretty normal when it came to extracurricular activities. He shrugged his shoulders, "Just about what everyone else does around here. I do my school work, watch Quidditch games, read the newspaper, read books...well pretty much read everything," he said with a laugh. He wanted desperately to add something interesting to the list but the only thing he could think of was, "I also really enjoy a good game of Wizard's Chess."

He felt that his answer was boring. Amelia certainly wouldn't find him interesting after that. In attempts to get the attention off of himself once again he asked, "What do you enjoy doing other than playing music in the dead of the night?" A lopsided smile once again appeared on the sixteen year old's face.

((So I slightly changed the order of the things Landon said because I was having a hard time responding to them in the order you had them written. If this bothers you, I will change it, but you’ll have to give me some time to work out the transitioning.))

Although Amelia had taken on a more relaxed posture, she was far from relaxed in observing the person with whom she shared the room. He was perplexing, both in that he was willing to stay so long in her presence – even after direct, verbal attacks were made on his person – and because he was, well, a member of the opposite sex. Although Amelia would like to claim that she had complete control over the function of her body, she had found after reaching puberty that she was not quite as omniscient as she would have preferred when it came to hormonal behavior and physical attraction.

And Landon was, to put it bluntly, attractive. He fell nicely into the category of good looking, but without looking as though he put a lot of work into it. He was nicely dressed, but not overtly so, and the chapped lips and slightly overlong hair suggested that he was not overly concerned with his appearance. The little lopsided smiles he gave lent an air of familiarity to his face, though she was certain she had never seen him before tonight. His eyes, though most might describe them merely as hazel, had flecks of green, blue, and brown in them as well. Amelia was trying very hard not to stare, and she hoped very much that Landon wasn’t paying as much attention as she was, for that would certainly lead to her having to explain why every time she wasn’t looking at the floor, her eyes always strayed to his.

Such was the case as Landon told her that he was in her year, which made it even harder to believe they had never met before. Although the question of her birthday seemed out of left field, it was a straightforward question, the type which Amelia was actually capable of answering with relative ease.

“May 5th,” she answered simply, her legs swinging on the edge of the table without her explicit permission. She wasn’t actually conscious of this action, so distracted was she by thinking up loquacious answers to questions and by the questioner himself. Landon, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease as he leaned against the doorframe, looking as though he had appeared out of the pages of some men’s magazine with his strong jaw line and sculpted upper arms.

Focus! Please, I am begging you! Amelia’s rationality beseeched, frustrated by the sudden coup her emotions has staged and overtaken her usually logical thought processes. But this battle seemed already too far gone to be saved.

Despite the fact that Amelia was being so over-analytical about this conversation, Landon’s answer to her turning the questions on him was, unsurprisingly, nonchalant. His answers were fairly typical for a Hogwarts student, aside from reading and Wizard’s Chess. This only added to the intrigue she felt for him. Not many students professed an interest in extra-curricular reading, and the logic required to play Wizard’s Chess meant that she had been correct in assuming him to be rather brighter than the average dolt walking the halls. She had to admit, looks and brains was an odd combination, one that she was not at all opposed to, but nowhere near willing to admit. Instead, she merely nodded in response, taking in the information and storing it away in her mental file now labeled Landon Rooney.

Her response would be, she knew, relatively vague, but she felt like she owed him at least a touch of honesty considering his answer had been somewhat insightful. She pondered for a moment before providing her answer, trying to adapt Landon’s casual attitude, but probably failing. Type A individuals couldn’t usually pass for laid-back.

“I do school work, run laps around the grounds. I occasionally swim when the weather is warmer,” she continued, smiling slightly at her next part, “And I am slowly working my way through every book in the Hogwarts library.” She would have mentioned Wizard’s Chess as well, but she didn’t want him to think she was merely mirroring his interests to gain his attention. She was having a hard enough time disguising her attention to him.

Amelia wasn’t altogether surprised when Landon admitted to not knowing a lot of contemporary music. Outside of the Weird Sisters, contemporary music wasn’t very well known in the magical community. It seemed that for people who had magic at their disposal, music wasn’t quite as interesting. She was rather surprised, though, when Landon’s comment about his unfamiliarity with muggle music turned into what sounded a lot like an invitation for a future meeting.

This was… odd, to say the least. Amelia was so accustomed to pushing people away in the first five minutes, it wasn’t often that someone even hinted at wanting to be in her presence any longer than absolutely necessary. Amelia was someone her peers tolerated out of necessity, not someone they pursued. She was so startled by what she had perceived as a – what did she think this was? Flattery, habitual, a pick up line?

“Um yeah,” Amelia responded, her eyes on the floor again and her hand on the back of her neck, a physical manifestation of her discomfort at Landon’s forward nature. It wasn’t that she was opposed to what he was saying – Merlin knew, even if Amelia wouldn’t admit it, that she was more interested in him than she had been in anyone else in quite some time. Instead, it was the fact that Amelia had been so effective and keeping people away, she didn’t quite know what to do when someone got closer.

Real eloquent… Amelia’s subconscious commented, sarcastic to a fault.

“Yes, I could probably… educate… you,” Amelia said, blushing profusely both at her inability to form coherent sentences in front of Landon, which was frustrating in and of itself, and because of the slight innuendo that existed in her response, though if she was lucky Landon wouldn’t notice it.

No one is that lucky, Amelia’s mind retorted, annoyed, And no one is as obvious as you.

((No problem whatsoever. I enjoy that ordering more actually!))

Landon had never been one who was above admitting that someone was physically attractive; he was a teenage boy after all. Though he had found that his opinions on what was attractive were different from the other boys he knew. Most liked the girls who had their faces caked with make-up, the rigid curls, and things which all stated that the female had worked exceptionally hard in order to achieve this look. He preferred girls who were more natural but with an aura of elegance. Even in his head that sounded lame but it was the only way he could describe his particular taste. Amelia certainly fell into the category of 'his type.'

Her hair hung in loose curls which shined brightly. The curls were natural and not something she had given an awful lot of attention to but the shininess showed that she had good hygiene. Her face may have had make up on it but it was nothing noticeable. She was a natural beauty to put it simply. But she also took care of herself. She had a pleasant smell about her, one which he couldn't place but she had a rather flowery scent which reminded him of summer. Her nails were cleanly cut without any dirt underneath them. This may have been a rather odd thing for him to notice but dirty fingernails were one of his biggest pet peeves.

There were a few times that their eyes locked with one another for brief periods of time. This was awkward but pleasant and he wasn't really sure how it managed to be both things at once. Landon believed that he only felt awkward because for some reason he was intimidated by her. And it was pleasant for well...obvious reasons.

May fifth, he repeated to himself. He was going to try his best to remember that one. Though to be honest he didn't really know why he had asked that question. It had simply been a childish attempt to learn more about her. The corners of his lips tugged upwards as he watched Amelia swing her legs as she sat on the table. This movement caused him to believe that even though she seemed more comfortable with the situation she still wasn't completely comfortable. "That's cool, its coming up then," he replied with a smile.

Landon had never really been one who celebrated birthdays. He found that age was no reason to celebrate, at least not after he turned seventeen. Once he was an adult he was quite sure that he would ignore his birthday completely. His parents had long ago stopped giving him gifts though he was sure that they would be perfectly cliche on his seventeenth and get their son a watch.

She ran laps? As he looked her up and down quickly, and hopefully unseen, he thought it was rather obvious that she did some sort of physical exercise regularly. She had slender legs and although it was hard to tell through jeans they seemed rather muscular. He gave her a lopsided smile when she mentioned that she was working her way through the Hogwarts library. "What's your favorite genre?" he asked, shifting his weight to his right foot. She looked like someone who would enjoy history...but he could be dead wrong about that. He just enjoyed guessing.

Perhaps he had said the wrong thing. His comment about her educating him on music seemed to make her uncomfortable. The way her hand found the nape of her neck and the uncomfortable string of words. It wasn't really ever a good sign when someone started a sentence with 'um.' Though she continued on in a way which made it seem as though she was just nervous rather than unaccepting of his invitation. Both her words and blushing caused him to smirk, just a little. "I'd like that," he replied simply.

With a false sense of comfort he walked over to the table, taking a seat next to her though as far away as possible. He didn't want to make her squirm or feel as though her personal space was of little importance to him. He liked his space as well. He knew this next question was going to sound as though he was already asking her out on a date but that wasn't necessarily true. "Are you going to the Ministrial Ball?" he asked, trying not to show too much interest in her answer. If she was going, he'd definitely be there and also would be sorely tempted to ask her to come with him. But that would be much too forward. They hardly knew each other after all.

((I did it again (changing the order of questions). Since it didn't bother you last time, I took the same liberty now. Also, Amelia is already in the Ministerial Ball thread, so if you would like to post there and mention this conversation, feel free to do so. Amelia's entrance is on page 6 of the Ministerial Ball, by the way, if you go looking for it. There has been a lot of conversation since then (obviously).))

The smirk with which her words were met let Amelia know that Landon had indeed picked up on the hint of unintentional innuendo in her response. His response was not overly forward, but he did sound… interested? Amelia couldn’t be sure, but no matter what he had meant by it the words were causing the heat in Amelia’s cheeks to begin spreading to her ears. The blush she had been struggling to contain – a purposeless endeavor, Amelia knew, but still she tried – had a mind of its own, and it was doing a very fine job of giving away her thoughts and emotions in the conversation. Amelia was glad for the change in subject when Landon mentioned her approaching birthday, quickly latching onto that thread of conversation to avoid dwelling on her embarrassment and hopefully coax the blush in her cheeks to receding.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Amelia responded, returning his smile with one of her own, though admittedly it did not come as easily as his. Her birthday was approaching quickly, something Amelia had not anticipated. The redheaded Ravenclaw girl had never been all that fond of birthdays. She found them tedious, and her mother always used them as an excuse to throw some sort of extravagant part at which Amelia was expected to be the center of attention. As someone who much preferred the outskirts of the social scene, this was obviously not Amelia’s ideal method of celebration.

Then again, Antoinette didn’t care to ask what Amelia’s ideas about most things were. She simply expected them to match hers, rarely stopping to consider that her sixteen-year-old daughter might not want to spend hours practicing Vivaldi’s four seasons so that she could perform in front of a host of people she had never met, or that Amelia might not want Antoinette to be playing match maker and inviting all of society’s most eligible teenage males over to the house for “casual” dinners.

Like Antionette even knows the meaning of the word casual, Amelia thought to herself, nearly laughing at the mere thought of her mother ever being anything aside from extravagant and obsessive. Her father, while having high expectations of Amelia, did not share her mother’s enthusiasm for dragging Amelia through a multitude of social formalities, but he went along with it because it was easier. It was always easier to let Antoinette have her way.

Amelia was pulled from her internal reflection on her familial structure when Landon asked about her preference in reading material, though in her opinion, the question he asked was nearly as impossible as, “What is your favorite book?” While the blond boy’s inquiry was slightly more general, it was equally difficult for Amelia. The girl read nearly non-stop, and enjoyed everything from fantasy novels by muggle writers to historical adaptations; she was just as keen on textbooks for transfiguration as those books which the world at large considered classics. It was with difficulty that Amelia finally settled on an answer for Landon.

“I think I enjoy stories that have an element of puzzle to them,” she answered, confident in her choice though she could have been with many others as well, “Books that give you all the pieces to know what will happen, but you don’t see the patterns until they are presented in just the right order or circumstance. I suppose I enjoy the mental stimulation,” she finished, shrugging as if this were no big deal, when in fact, Amelia craved mental challenge, especially when she found her classes tedious.

Amelia was about to turn the same question around on Landon in an attempt to fill the pathetically thin mental file she had on him – for once she had answered more questions than she had asked – but before she could Landon made a move that brought him closer to where she was sitting, effortlessly swinging himself onto the table upon which she was perched. Amelia felt her legs tense as the desk shifted slightly beneath them, swinging for a moment before finding its balance again. It was only after Amelia reminded herself to relax that she was able to unclench her calves and cross her ankles beneath the desk, ceasing the unconscious swinging motion.

It was unexpected, that Landon should choose to sit next to her, for in sitting he was suggesting that he intended to stay for a while. Unaccustomed as she was to company, Amelia was still under the impression that she would somehow manage to alienate or bore Landon and he would find other pursuits, but this was a clear indication that his “flight” response had yet to kick in. For some reason, Amelia did not feel compelled as she usually did to try to trigger this response in Landon; though she was still wary of him – mostly because of the effect he seemed to be having on her hormones and his assault on her senses – Amelia did not rush to push him away. Like the puzzle books she had mentioned earlier, she was intrigued by the challenge of figuring Landon out. There weren’t many people that Amelia couldn’t analyze within the first few minutes of standing near them; far too many people wore their emotions and opinions on their sleeves to be any sort of mystery. But Landon… Landon was different.

Yes, we’ve already established that he’s different, Amelia’s inner sarcasm retorted, bored with Amelia’s fascination with the boy, which clearly stemmed from a different section of her not inconsiderable mind, This isn’t exactly breaking news anymore.

Amelia would have been tempted to laugh aloud at her inner monologuing – or was it dialogue? There were consistently a few different points of views that argued with one another – had Landon not interrupted her train of thought with another question. But this one, unlike the others, seemed to carry a specific purpose behind it, instead of just a quest for general knowledge upon which he could build a profile. It was so unexpected for Amelia that it provoked the eye contact she had been avoiding, if only to avoid any more blushing.

For a moment, Amelia thought she had misheard him – why should he be asking her that anyway? – but a moment of processing confirmed that her hearing was indeed intact. It was… somewhat logical that Landon should ask such a question, she reasoned. The ministerial ball was the subject of conversation in most of the magical community. She imagined that this was a natural topic of small talk – imagined because she didn’t usually engage in small talk.

But from the way Landon was waiting for her answer, this didn’t seem like small talk, which was the only fault she could see in her rationalizing his question.

But that was impossible. He was merely being polite. Landon had clearly been raised in a privileged environment and likely been taught the same methods of social interaction that she had been instructed in (though he had obviously been more adept at the subject). This was a conversation between two strangers about an upcoming political event, nothing more. Believing otherwise meant jumping to conclusions or making assumptions without facts; Amelia was fond of neither.

“My mother wouldn’t let me miss it for the world,” Amelia answered after recovering from her slight surprise at the inquiry, twisting slightly the usual phrase, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world”, to make it more fitting for her situation. Although Amelia would have preferred to avoid what was sure to be a crowded building full of important people her parents would expect her to charm and impress, Amelia had already received explicit instructions that she was to attend and there would be no debating it.

“So yes, I will be there,” Amelia summarized, trying not to seem too suggestive with her answer. She did not know what Landon had intended by asking her this question, nor could she find a way to return it without sounding either like she was only asking because he had, or as though she were asking for a date. So instead, the redhead’s answer hung between them as Amelia’s lack of usual social graces and tendency to over analyze anything she might say brought the conversation to a pause.

((No worries. I just reply to things in the order which they appear. So switch it around as much as you want to...it won't bother me in the slightest. I'll make sure to look for Amelia in the ball thread. Its gets really confusing with everyone posting so frequently.))

The fact that Amelia was blushing didn't escape Landon's watchful eye. This was more so due to the fact that he was constantly looking at her than anything else. Though he couldn't be sure as to why she would be blushing. He had never really believed that he was capable of making anyone blush, normally because he didn't say thing which induced that sort of behavior. Maybe the touch of innuendo which had been present in their conversation was making her uncomfortable. His assumption grew stronger when she made no further comment on the subject.

Her response didn't hold much excitement and to be quite honest, he was a little surprised by that. Even though he was someone who found birthdays to be a more saddening endeavor than uplifting he was still looking forward to finally becoming of age. There were many perks which came along with turning seventeen many of which he greatly desired. "You don't sound all that excited," he mused aloud. "You'll get to use magic outside of school...drink...what's not to like?" he inquired with a laugh.

Landon almost felt guilty for asking the question about her favorite genre of books. It was unfair for him to ask a question which he wouldn't have been able to answer himself. There were so many different kinds of books out there that it was nearly impossible to pick just one or even three types which he enjoyed more than the others. He had even read some muggle literature he'd enjoyed but he was never going to admit that out loud. His parents would have him skinned alive. Well that was a hyperbole but they definitely wouldn't be pleased.

Well he'd been wrong about picking her out to be a history fan. Though her answer was even more intriguing. He chuckled when she said that she enjoyed the mental stimulation. "Good answer. I really enjoy series that are like that. You know, where you can make different predictions and have time to figure out all of the twists and turns," he replied, thinking that he sounded a bit redundant but tried to act casual. Why he was so worried about what Amelia thought of him was a mystery. He normally had an attitude gave off the impression that he generally didn't care what his peers thought of him. Why was this girl so much different than the others? He wondered if she was able to tell he was nervous.

His question about the ball seemed to catch her off guard. Maybe she was worried that he was going to ask her to go as his date. He had subconsciously toyed with the idea but immediately dismissed it for several reasons. For one he had just met her, that would be more than a little forward to do that. Secondly, it would more than likely scare her off. Thirdly, he felt as though this was someone whom, if he chose to pursue, he was going to need to do so slowly. However, this was all of little importance. He hardly knew her...he was getting too ahead of himself.

Her mother wouldn't let her miss it? Ironically, neither would Landon's parents. Balls weren't necessarily his sort of thing but it seemed as though he kept finding himself at them. Hopefully there wouldn't be another one for quite some time...or at least there wouldn't be one which his parents forced him to attend.

"Ah yes," he responded with a small laugh, "Mothers tend to make their children attend boring parties." He wasn't sure if she was in the exact same boat as him when it came to parents, he was only assuming.

He flashed a smile at her, "Well hopefully I'll run into you there." He really hoped he wasn't being too forward. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off. If anything he thought that at least a solid friendship could form between the two of them. She was different, intriguing, beautiful, and even her faults such as awkwardness were endearing. Before he could stop himself he asked, "You'll save a dance for me, won't you?" Even his cheeks were blushing at that question. Had he really just said that out loud?

Amelia shrugged as Landon interpreted her answer, more perceptively than she would have anticipated or wanted. As intriguing as this boy was to her, some part of her also warned that he was dangerous. He was smart, quick witted, and observant; right now their conversation centered mostly around mundane, get to know you information. But what would happen if he started asking questions she would rather avoid? Amelia had a feeling that with the way Landon had made her loosen up a bit in this conversation, he was likely to get information out of her later on that she wouldn’t have readily shared.

“I guess there are some perks to it,” Amelia admitted, both to keep the conversation moving and to get her mind out of paranoia mode. Amelia had a tendency to overanalyze the people and situations she came in contact with, rather than just taking them at face value. If she let that part of her personality take over this exchange, she was likely to ostracize Landon the way she did everyone else, and if she was being completely honest with herself, that was certainly something that she didn’t want.

“Though perhaps not so much the drinking,” Amelia said offhandedly, laughing a bit at herself as she raised her eyebrows at the memory of her last encounter with alcohol. It had been with Elijah; he had given her what might have been considered a tolerable amount of rum, but to straight-laced Amelia with little to no experience, she had gone downhill quite quickly, “I’ll stay away from that if I know what’s good for me.”

Though the prospect of being able to use magic outside of school was an alluring part of coming of age, there were some other more daunting aspects that kept Amelia from being really excited about the impending date, the biggest of which was having to make a career decision. Her parents, of course, had their plans for her. Her mother always had a plan, and if her father had his way, Amelia would likely follow in his footsteps and become a spell researcher. With all the pressure from her parents to follow the plan, Amelia had a difficult time thinking about what she wanted. It was hard, sometimes, to separate the things she did for her parents’ benefit and the things she did for herself. Amelia had spent so much of her life pleasing them, and she didn’t really know what made her happy.

But the time she had to dwell on the subject of her future was blessedly cut short by Landon’s comment about her favorite genre of book. She was not altogether surprised that Landon had similar tastes in literature; Amelia was beginning to see many parallels in their personalities and even in their families, based on what Landon said next. The way he spoke suggested that his mother had a lot to do with him attending the ministerial ball, just as Amelia’s mother had everything to do with her making an appearance. The bit of dread about large social situations began to creep into Amelia’s stomach, as it usually did when she thought about these things, but it was soon replaced by the feeling of tiny winged creatures at Landon’s next move.

The smile of his was completely discombobulating, sending Amelia’s mind spinning once more, like a record which kept skipping to other tracks but always returning to the same one: Landon. His teeth were perfectly straight and white, and his smile was genuine. Having practiced so many hours at producing a passable smile, Amelia knew the difference between sincere and socially acceptable. His smile went all the way to his eyes, which seemed to change colour with his mood – or perhaps it was just the lighting. Amelia was torn between wanting to believe Landon really was as attractive as her body was telling her he was, and rationalizing her response to the physical stimuli.

Every single one, Amelia responded mentally, though she was blushing much too profusely to say such a forward statement aloud. But this time, Amelia was not forced to avert her eyes from Landon and in fact was disinclined to do so because of one key factor: he was blushing too. The hint of red in his cheeks was nothing compared to color which was making its way down her neck and to her collarbone, but it was undeniably there. She wasn’t the only one with responses they couldn’t control.

“I’m not sure you’ll have to fight for that honor,” Amelia said through a bit of nervous laughter, basically teasing herself to lighten the mood, but also because what she said was true. She might as well warn Landon in advance that she wasn’t exactly the most popular girl around; he was bound to find out from his housemates if he mentioned her to them.

I think he’s going to mention me? Why do I think he’s going to mention me? Amelia’s mind whirred, increasing the pitch of the nervous laughter and rushing her next statement, a continuation of the joke she had made earlier, though whether this was a demonstration of her sense of humor or merely her nerves was hard to say. Probably nerves; Amelia wasn’t known for her sense of humor.

“But you might want to bring a big stick, just in case,” she added, almost – and accidentally – sounding the slightest bit flirtatious. It hadn’t been intentional – at least not on a conscious level – and it only deepened her blush as one corner of her lips turned up in a half smile, not knowing how this statement would be received. Much of the reason Amelia wasn’t naturally funny was because she had a very dry, sarcastic sense of humor which the general population… well, let’s just say she ended up insulting more people that she intrigued.

Landon couldn't help but make a mental note that she seemed rather against drinking. It wasn't that he had to drink every weekend or anything like that but he did enjoy a few drinks now and again. Part of him wondered if she would look down on him for that while the other part of him was wondering if there was any way he could convince her into drinking with him. He already knew that he wanted to hear what she was really thinking instead of what she actually said. Alcohol generally brought out the less reserved side of people.

"Didn't have much fun last time you drank?" he asked, going ahead and assuming that alcohol had some sort of bad memory linked to it. But there could be several memories. Perhaps one of her parents were an alcoholic, maybe she had gotten a nasty hangover or thrown up, or made some bad decisions. Landon couldn't really ever think of a time he'd made a series of good decisions while drinking...but that was half the fun of it really.

It was obvious to him that he hadn't really offered much to the conversation about books because well, she didn't say anything in return. This made him feel just a little awkward but he had practiced hiding those sorts of feelings for years so hopefully she wouldn't be able to pick him apart.

Landon really hoped this would be the last ball for a while. He was absolutely sick of them and he had only been to one recently. Having to listen to his parents panic over what clothes they would wear or whom they would arrive with was dreadfully tedious and annoying. Of course he did understand the importance of both making and keeping appearances but his parents always seemed to take it one step too far. He really hoped that he wouldn't end up like them when he got older. Landon always felt guilty for wishing that sort of thing; he probably should want to be like his parents...didn't most children feel that way?

His request for her to save a dance seemed to have caught both of them off-guard. Though he was aware that his blushing was fairly noticeable, hers has managed to spread down towards her chest. He found it rather odd that this seemed to merely add to his already high level of attraction towards her. He also felt rather silly. They were two sixteen year old students blushing as though they were twelve and smitten with one another. If someone had walked by they would have looked absolutely ridiculous. This only caused his blushing to get worse.

Landon wasn't one hundred percent sure whether she was serious or not about him having to fight for the honor. She seemed to be teasing...she had laughed after all. But he wouldn't have doubted that she would have a line of others desiring her attention. Locking his eyes with hers for a moment her responded in a playful tone, "Good. I've never liked it when things come too easily." There was certainly some truth to that statement especially when it came to females. The ones worth keeping were the ones who made a boy chase them. Easy girls weren't anything special at least not from his experience.

Though he really wasn't sure how to respond to her last statement other than to laugh. It was rather funny after all. "Are the other guys a lot bigger than me?" he asked jokingly. Though for a moment he wondered if he would actually fight someone in order to dance with her. Alright, you're getting really ahead of yourself, he mentally scolded. He was very taken by her but he hardly knew her. What was wrong with him?