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Finn Holly

And the sky’s brewing up some trouble

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Finn Holly

It was late afternoon, the last few rays of orange and strawberry sunlight sheathing the Hogwarts Express from an aging moon. Once filled with mindless chatter and the trolley’s delicacies, the passengers had grown weary and resigned in their seats amidst candy wrappers and carry-on items. A zealous few were already donning their nondescript robes, and more still lay fast asleep in their cabins. 
 
His body ached, and his limbs were stiff from lying awkwardly pressed against the window with Chris for 
so long, but he was young and the rigor left him quickly enough. If he walked for a while he could maybe find an empty cabin to bed down in for the last few hours. He didn’t look for very long. In an otherwise empty cabin, a bright reddish hue stood out like a weed amongst flowers. “You're alive, hm?” Finn ventured through the open door with a smug grin plastered across his tanned face. At least Asher made it on the train at all... suppose he owed Chris a sickle then.

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Asher Leighton

When Herbert Leighton had dropped off his children at King's Cross, everything had seemed to be just fine. They'd said their goodbyes, despite the somber tone in the household for the past 10 months, Ingrid had ruffled Asher's hair and taken him by the arm to show him to the express, and then Herbert had headed home to Wales. To the empty house he was alone in for the next term. 

 

Asher had been apprehensive, though his sister had assured him on the short train ride over from Wales that all would be well once he got to Hogwarts. She'd regaled him with stories of the common rooms and the feast and the sorting ceremony, and for a short while, they'd felt like a family again. Ingrid lead him onto the old train, down the hallway, and into a compartment. And then, she'd conjured an empty trunk, shoved him into it, kissed the top of his head menacingly, and locked it on him. 

 

She'd said he'd need to get the hazing out of the way early. She'd giggled outside the box as he kicked against it and cursed at her in Welsh, using words their father would have scourgified his mouth for if he'd heard. Then he heard her bid him farewell with another laugh, and run off to find Edwin. He was alone in the cramped box now, and it felt even more claustrophobic than it had when she'd first dropped the lid on him. The worst case scenarios started playing in his head as he dully kicked against the lid in a rhythmic pattern for what felt like hours. What if no one ever found him? What if all of his classmates got sorted, and he was sent back to London in the form of lost luggage. 

 

Anger prickling at his skin at the betrayal by his big sister, the redhead kicked as hard as he could against the lid, and a small burst of vibrating, searing magic from his feet caused it to fly open. He sat up in the box, taking a dramatically huge breath of the first fresh air he'd had since London, and his eyes met familiar ones from just outside the compartment. Asher leaned his chin against the edge of the box and let out a extravagant sigh. 

 

"Barely," he said to Finn's question as to whether he was alive after all. "I'm gonna kill m' bloody sister. Wanna help, Holly?" 

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Finn Holly

Finn’s eyes examined the beaten, disfigured trunk cocooning his peer with disfaith. Surely the impulsive half-blood hadn’t tried to smuggle himself onto the Hogwarts Express in a ragged box? He swallowed his questions and squatted down on his haunches to meet the redhead at a more respectable eye-level. “Hm, sure, let’s kill the sister.” His facial muscles strained to contain the budding laugh blistering at his lips in favor of a more supportive image. Asher’s fierceness could be rather cute, laden with a fiery passion that inversely agreed with a punitive lack of brain cells.

 

 

The absence of goodness in the compartment would suggest the trolley lady never reached him, it would be a shame for Asher to go hungry for the next few hours, especially if they were to contemplate a decent murder. "You missed lunch, Ash. Eat this. Hm, it's just a chocolate frog, but I hear it tastes well enough." He offered his friend a diamond-shaped box. "Careful opening it, mine got away between the seats earlier." A waste of 2 sickles that was. It was @Christina Bishopwho finally caught the runaway amphibian, but by then it was lathered in lint, dust, and long-lost gummy bear limbs.

 

“So? How do you suppose we do it?”

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