The Mistake

1. The bad beginning.

Viola:
The station was bustling with activity, people rushing out onto the platform, mothers hugging their children goodbye, fathers helping them with their luggage.
Here I was, standing by the compartment as Mattheo- my brother-set our luggage in.

"Sit down." Mattheo said as he got done putting away the trunks.
"Mhm," I hummed in response. My eyes wandering back to him, he was already sat and fishing through his jean pockets for something. A blunt, I'm assuming.

I bit back my tongue and settled down by the window. It was none of my business-he was a grown adult, after all.
"I don't want your stupid friends sitting in here." I whispered, my voice audible enough for him.

"Well, they're gonna be here. They're-"
Just then a huge bang rang throughout the tiny space, I visibly jumped at the sound. And then, much to my dismay, I heard his voice.
Ugh.
"Ciao, miei piccoli tesori." He said, standing up against the doorframe of the compartment, looking winded.
(Translation: hello, my little munchkins.)

All of his luggage was spilling into the space and his owl's cage had topped over onto the floor. Theodore fucking Nott. A true bimbo.
An imbecile.
My eyes shot over to Mattheo, who was laughing himself funny. "You just embarrassed yourself so bad, that's irreversible." He snorted before earning a well deserved smack from Theodore.

I got up from my seat to retrieve the Owl's cage and set it beside me on the seat. Frost was Theo's owl, though I liked to think she liked me better, I mean, he did forget her for two days straight back in year five. She's held a grudge ever since.
"He's an idiot." I whispered to her to which she responded with a high pitched chirp.

"Hello to you too, bella." A stupid grin spread across his face as he leaned back against the seat and pushed himself forward by his hips.
"Don't stink up the compartment with all your smoking." I spat out, the stench that the blunt left would linger and cause a horrible headache.

"Loosen up a little, why don't you try some?" Theodore offered, taking the rolled blunt from Mattheo and offering it to me.
Mattheo smacked the back of his head before snatching it from him. 
"She doesn't smoke." He retorted, "don't make her like you."

"Where are the rest of your little friends?" I asked as the train began rolling out of the station, I got up to my feet and made my way out to the hallway as soon as they began smoking.

"They're in a different compartment probably." Mattheo called out as the door slammed shut behind me.
I walked around until I saw the snack trolly-
my safe haven in this torturous journey to Hogwarts were these extra sugary, diabetes causing sweets.

"How many you want, love?" The woman behind the trolly asked, her voice sweet like always. "A bit of everything please." I muttered, tiptoeing nervously as I waited for her to hand me the sweets.

"Alright, that'll be 1 Galleon and 15 Sickles please." With a curt nod I handed her the coins, my other hand reaching for the bag of sweets. "Thanks." I whispered quickly before rushing off down the hall.

Theodore:

"She's still stuck up as ever," I scoffed as Viola walked out of our train compartment. She was always a bit of a nutcase. Always on edge, always trying to be prim and proper.

"Give her a break, she's still dealing with..everything." Mattheo replied, his voice trailing off towards the end, like it always did when he wanted to brush past a certain topic.

I reached forward and grabbed the rolled-up blunt from between his fingers, bringing it up to my lips, inhaling the earthy, woody scent that lingered in the air.
I took a long drag before blowing it out in the air. "Oh of course she is." I mumbled, rolling my eyes a little at him defending her.

Why wouldn't we get along? She was my best friend's sister after all, so what was the reason you may ask? Well, we had an explosive argument back in year five about her father- Tom Riddle aka Voldemort. She was going to do his dirty work for him when she could've just gotten help, her selfishness would've put all of us in danger.

Mattheo, me, and she herself could've ended up in grave danger if she went through with it. The argument was horrible, heated with spiteful words that neither of us meant, hopefully. It was all-consuming, I forgot about everything during those three days. Literally. I forgot about Frost, my owl.

But my thoughts mellowed out as the Marijuana took its toll on my body, my body relaxing, my head lolled back in peace as I took in a deep breath and handed the joint back to Mattheo.