Victorious | Remy

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[attr="class","title-amelia"]Victorious

[attr="class","subtitle-amelia"]THROW THE BAIT, CATCH THE SHARK, BLEED THE WATER RED
FIFTY WORDS FOR MURDER AND I’M EVERY ONE OF THEM

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"From my father's collection; I'd hoped you would like it." Admittedly, Amelia had never precisely tasted this wine, so it was very much possible that the expense of the bottle meant that people were often polite about it and everyone pretended to like it. She'd had more than her fair share of experience at praising what seemed like a truly rancid drink for what she'd known was spoiled wine, and more high-priced bottles that burned her throat rather unpleasantly but was able to glean from her knowledge that the reaction was normal for that type.

If that was the case. . . well, the knowledge would certainly be handy at dinner parties, and it was why she'd also prepared by bring a bottle of butterbeer. Never be too prepared, after all, and if it truly did taste horrid, they've have a good drink after giggling over the failure of the first. A smile bloomed. "It is of course, possible that this is amore acquired taste than either of us have."

She'd been disappointed to find that she hadn't gotten Head Girl, though once she'd calmed down, she'd realized it had gone to Remy, which had very much eased her mind. Remy would be a lovely Head Girl, she knew, and her best friend's power at the school only increased by the badge. Remy deserved this, after all, and it was good that Graves and Flint had seen that in her. After all, wasn't Remy the Rumor Queen of the school? If anything wanted to be spread, it had to pass through her, and her chain of informants was truly a thing to admire. Besides, it would only grow now, and that something Remy and she would take pleasure in. It would make a lovely picture, the two of them working together, as obviously Young would take it far too seriously.

No, it would be Remy in charge of the school, easily able to twist Nick in circles. With Amelia staying Prefect, she'd be thought to be a lower position by the younger students, and she'd be able to twist them to joining Remy's chain-- especially as the younger Slytherins likely wouldn't expect that. Their ideas of loyalty and ambition were so blank and white, after all. Few of the First years could yet understand the pleasure of delaying gratification, that if a friend had gotten something you'd wanted, you could be proud of them. "Clipped? Oh no, we'll be soaring."

And extremely proud Amelia was. She'd seen Remy from their first days on the train grow into the woman she was today. She was going to go far, Amelia knew. Remy would conquer the world with quill and ink, rumors and words. She'd be running a publishing company-- HOME, the Prophet, Realm-- or make her own wildly successful one. When Amelia was on the International Mage's Council, when she was Supreme Mugwump (or Deputy, at least), she'd spend her first hour reading Remy's multibillion galleon paper. Slytherins always had the best friendships, after all.

She let out a light laugh at Remy's question. "Oh, you could, very well. If you can wake me up, and dearly hope I'm wearing enough to not surprise them." Then again, she could be as imposing in a sheet held against her chest as she could in usual sleepwear, as the bonnets and scarves she slept in might seem to take away from the effect no matter what she wore. She had little doubt she could still terrify them into obedience, though it really would be. . . "On your more difficult nights, I'll of course do so. You'll need the laugh," she decided. Particularly if said somehow lost child was near her height. "I'll count on you to take pictures, won't I?"

Gods, being away from Remy-- not that she'd forgotten near-birthday sister, but there was always the sweetness in reunion that made all the weeks away seem worth it. They usually did meet up over the summer, but they'd been unlucky in organizing meet-ups that worked with schedules all too well. This was a delayed gratification that could be savored, just as this wine hopefully would be. Amelia took a careful sip after the usual smell, preparing herself for the possible expensive taste.

[attr="class","tags-amelia"]☆ @ remy, 710 words☆