Encouraged, Niccolò smiled back at Alexandra (his a little less formal than her own) and pulled back the chair, sliding into it, his bag lowering onto the floor, and angled his body to face her. "Thank you." He bit his lower lip slightly, unsure how he could smoothly introduce the idea of talking about her family, but he was saved the trouble by her sudden directness. "Yes, my parents told me she'd attend here. I hope she enjoys it as much as I do." He shifted in his seat slightly, hoping his following questions about her sister wouldn't seem so improper or annoying to her. "My younger brother, Inigo, he's coming to RMI next year as well. He wants to be sorted into Draco, I think. Does your sister have any idea of which house she’d like to be in?” There, that was a smooth enough transition, wasn’t it? Niccolò didn’t want to appear overly interested in Amelia. Or afraid of the idea of her.

What if she was an insane person and he was stuck with her forever? Well, actually, insanity wasn’t that bad. Niccolò didn’t have a huge problem with insanity. But what if they simply didn’t like each other? What if she picked her nose, or was one of those girls that cried all the time, or didn’t like dogs, or smelled funny, or was just annoying? What if she didn’t like the same comic strips he did (Gemini the Two Headed Dragon was his life), or didn’t understand Quidditch, or hated chocolate, or did badly in school? If she was an idiot, would that reflect badly on him? The thoughts whirled around and around and around in his head. Every possible horrible scenario of how his betrothed might turn out. Shades of appalling grey and forest green (one of his least favorite colors) and paled orange and beige (he loathed the name and the sight) painted over all images in his mind.

‘Course, she may end up not being so bad.’ There was a glimmer of blue, then silver swept over that and suddenly bright colors of red and gold. Maybe she’d end up being like Alexandra; perfectly nice, polite, and all Niccoló really wanted was someone who wouldn't try to kill him in his sleep. He'd heard stories. Strange stories of really bad engagements gone wrong. "So, who are you engaged to, by the way? Someone that goes here? Or someone back home?" He was referring to Britain. Since he'd spent Winter break there it was the home that was freshest in his mind. "Just tell me if my questions start bothering you," He spoke suddenly, smiling a little at her. "It's just - you know, I'm curious. I didn't even know my parents were even thinking of things like this. Er - " He didn't want her to think he wasn't a hundred percent pleased about the situation. "Not that I have a problem with it, or anything."