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Boys Like Ama 
Daphne kept her hands on her laugh, having pulled out her handkerchief, she fingered it repeatedly, nodding every two or three sentences in a losing attempt to keep up with the conversation. It was just too many subjects at once. That big guy sure talked fast. All those words in one breath. Miss Hopton eyed him warily. He must have healthy lungs. Perhaps he was in the school choir.
Soprano? Amused, Daphne smiled at her inside joke and smiled to herself. Oh, how funny.
"Oh?" She whispered, glancing sideways at Jillian. Instead of appearing graceful she looked like someone had stapled an iron bar to her back--crookedly. Letting out a sigh she rolled her eyes heavenwards. "It can't be helped. Sit however it's most comfortable to you, dear."
At the mention of Mister Newell's physique, once more, Daphne nodded dumbly and found the empty goblets on the table remarkably interesting. Picking one up, pink-faced she examined it. "You don't suppose these are authentic?"
The girl who had just been sorted into Gryffindor didn't seem to be enjoying herself and Daphne shot her a sympathetic smile. "By the way, congratulations," she called from her seat not wanting to raise her voice too much and appear uncouth. "You really did get into the best house."
As she said this, she tried not to look straight at Miss Jillian. There were always exceptions.
Cale wrinkled his brows yet again at Daphne's strange behavior and adnormal blushing. Meh. Girls were strange. "Probably. I mean, isn't Hogwarts like a billion years old?" he wondered aloud. "Does it have a crest on it or anything?" he asked suddenly, wondering if they were special Gryffindor goblets or something.
As he reached over to examine the goblet in Daphne's hands, his luck decided to come back and visit and he knocked the pitcher of pumpkin juice over with his elbow, which proceeded to creep slowly to the edge of the table, falling onto the bench just millimeters from where Daphne was sitting.
"Don't move!" he exclaimed, jumping up and peering over the table to examine his damage. "Erm...sorry about that," he muttered, as it became HIS turn to blush at the unfortunate incident that he just occurred. Ehh, at least it hadn't gone ON her. "Just...don't move until I clean this up," he suggested, whipping his head of curls around, looking for a napkin. "Where's a napkin when I need one?" he wondered aloud.