The third floor of that red-brick building with the giant clock on some campus somewhere

"Well, snarling again wouldn't help, and neither would showing your fangs seeing as I know you wouldn't use them."

"Wouldn't I?"

Amanda shook her head, taking a seat on his bed thinking that this would take much longer than expected. "No. Because then we'd have to go through all that almost death stuff again, which neither of us wants to do. You're not a very good murderer."

"How would you know?" Wallace didn't take his eyes off of her.

"Well, considering the two small scars on my neck, and how I am still breathing..."

He grinned. "You still have those... Anyway, normally whoever I choose isn't expecting it."

"Well, I guess that's a bit of a fair point. But, I technically wasn't either."

Wallace smirked. "So, then..." He stepped closer to her until she could feel his breath on her... like, neck area. Since he's shorter and such. He lowered his voice, and said: "You wanted to know, right?"

Amanda felt the breath on her neck, which gave her goosebumps and irritated the scars. "Y-yes..."

Wallace stood on his toes, taking Amanda by her shoulders...

Then shoved her out the door, shutting and locking it behind her. Magically.

Amanda stood outside the door, a bit dazed. And that's when reality hit her. She had thrown herself at him in attempt to heal a relationship. Amanda felt the sickening feeling of stupidity and guilt make her stomach do flips, and that's when she apparated back her home.