Who: Kingsley & Amelia What: Kingsley will attempt to repair Amelia and fail horribly. Where: Quidditch pitch When: Wednesday afternoon Rating: PG 13 for swearing probably.
Kingsley, along with Amelia, had taken to taunting with Hestia and Eli the other day. At some point, after Kings had left, disaster apparently took place. Torin joined in, but Amelia seemed to have an issue with it. Kingsley himself had gone back and read what Torin wrote, but wasn't horrified at what he saw. Amelia, on the other hand, was. Her own banter with Torin hadn't seemed to help the situation either. While Kingsley was a excellent prefect and captain, he really wasn't very good with "emotions". Kings had always known Amelia was fierce and a bit touchy, but it hadn't ever really been a problem. This week, things had changed. He wasn't sure if something happened over Christmas, but something inside of Amelia had snapped.
With a sigh, Kingsley realized he was going to have to speak with them. Separately, of course. Kingsley first checked his dorm, but couldn't find Torin. Kings had actually hoped to find Torin first - boys were easier to deal with. He knew he was going to say the wrong thing and Amelia was going to take it the wrong way. Grabbing his broom, Kingsley decided to check the pitch. Amelia tended to go there when she was bored or upset, but so did Torin. One of them would probably be there. Kings scanned the common room, but didn't see either of them. Sometimes being Captain was a pretty hard job.
The walk to the pitch past quickly. Kings hadn't been thinking about where he was walking, and before he knew it - he was outside. It was fairly cold, and it had been a mistake to forget his coat. Stupid winter, stupid cold. Instead of walking through the snow, Kingsley decided to get on his broom and fly to the pitch. He knew he shouldn't have, but he wasn't wearing any boots, and the snow was damn cold! Reaching the pitch, Kingsley saw a form with long hair. Well, if it wasn't Amelia maybe he could ask the girl for advice. Flying closer, Kingsley frowned; it was becoming more and more likely it was Little Bones. "Oi! Li-- Bones," Kingsley yelled, barely catching himself in time. What was so bad about being called Little Bones anyway?