Amelia rose her eyebrows and grimaced in a 'yes, you're quite right' sort of way before taking another drink from her glass. She could do better. There was so much....yelling, with Barnabas; so many emotions that twisted at her stomach in the most unpleasant way. Amelia was far from a romantic – her early upbringing had seen to that – but....there had to be something more than arguing in a relationship. She'd seen it in her aunt and uncle. They weren't the richest people nor were they the poorest, but they were comfortable in their living and loved each other. It was something that – while it may be naïve, Amelia knew she wanted at some point in her life. Barnabas Skeeter had taught her that; she couldn't go through a marriage without having some modicum of respect for the man.

"The next one...tuh!" History had told her that her judgment was not always sound. For this reason, Amelia took Phyri's suggestion to heart and countered with another laugh. She knew if she'd approached Phryi with such a prospect, the cat-that-ate-the-canary grin that had just graced her friend's features would make an immediate reappearance. "I shall then put my palms together and pray to Merlin the poor man comes out the other side unscathed." she said, shooting Phyri an amused glance.

"And I suppose,""burning would be an apt response, if not proportional one." She looked back at Phyri with a grin of her own. It was quite some time ago – more than 10 years in fact – that Amelia would get a most intense detention after setting her future lover's robes aflame. "Remember when I set Barnabas's robes aflame after he insulted you?" While not in the same house, the encounter would set forth the trajectory for Amelia's relationship with both the Ravenclaw and Slytherin.