Fireworks {Lee Jordan} {Harry Potter Fanfiction} #Wattys2018

Whoa!

I open my eyes wide as I take in my surroundings. Everything is perfect. Parents wave happily to the train as it starts. I'm lulled into a peaceful state. Then the steam train blows its whistle and I jump. I'm going to be late!

"What's the hurry?" Ficus shifts slightly like he's uncomfortable.

"I'm going to be late! I'll have to say goodbye to Mum and Dad via letter. Let's go!" I leap towards the train. I climb on at the last moment, my trolley has already been packed on courtesy of magic. Panting, I carry a small bag and Ficus.

"Hey Leslie, can you please find a compartment, you are crushing my leaves." Ficus complains. I sigh and walk over to the first compartment I see. I open the door, and immediately get hit in the face with a puff of smoke and a loud bang.

Coughing, I fall back into the hallway. The smoke chokes me. When I stop hacking, I hear two voices.

"Oops."

"Sorry,"

"But not sorry!"

I shake my head to clear it.

"What in the world were you doing setting a smoke-bomb off here? You nearly killed me, and now Ficus may be hurt." I scold them. Right now they look like bleary shapes in the smoke.

"Wow," says one of them. "You sound just like Mum."

I ignore him and check on Ficus. "Hey Ficus, are you ok?" He makes a wheezing noise.

"I've been better. Seriously, what are these three gits thinking!" He shakes his leaves irritably.

"Three? I thought there were only two gits?" I shake my head in disbelief as a third shape appears in the smoky room. "Oh great. Here comes git number three."

The two other boys, who I can now see, snort. "We are not gits. We're geniuses." I take a closer look. They've both got red hair, I mean like bright red, and are identical. They are shorter, and both have a mischievous glint in their eyes.

"Who are you anyway? I mean, calling you git one and git two work, but I need to know who you affiliate yourself with." As I speak, they exchange glances.

"I'm Fred,"

"And I'm George." They chime. I point at them.

"So you're Fred, as you're George." The third shape, revealed to be a dark skinned boy with long curly hair, pats Fred's shoulder.

"George, Fred, stop pulling her leg! He's Fred, and he's George." He gestures to the red head beside him.

Fred whines. "Lee, you just ruined it! After all, we knew she'd be easy to trick and we were seeing how long we could hold it up before becoming Gred and Foerge."

It hurts me to hear them speak about tricking me like it's nothing. I feel my face go red as I run out of the compartment. There's one thing I hate more than anything, and it's being tricked. For many years children played horrible tricks on me, so now even the slightest thing sets me off. As I storm out of the compartment, I think of how many ways I can get their arses back.