//chapter 10\\

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A/N: this edit is just wholesome, simple as that. I don't have much to say, but enjoy xx~

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After changing into your robes, you shortly arrived to the Hogwarts platform. You stepped out of the train, quickly running into a boy about your height, but a year or so younger. His hair was almost pale blonde, slicked back like a businessman. His eyes were a certain shade of blue they didn't sell on the paint sample cards. His gestures and manor all around made a statement, giving you the feeling he was your typical silver spoon blessed child. And when those cold eyes found their way to yours, you wondered why you couldn't predict the lottery numbers. 

"Watch where you're going. My outfits worth more than your very life.", he sneered, eyeing you up and down with disgust. You simply scoffed, never letting him see the small amount of pride he'd managed to hurt in the one sentence he spoke. 

"Oh I'm sure, because the identical robes we have on, would outweigh my existence? Move, bleach boy.", you hissed back, pushing him out of the way. Five foot and 3 inches nearly being matched by a snarky bottle blonde who happened to be younger than you? Sarcasm was really your only defense here. You crossed your arms, pushing them into your chest as Georgie ran up behind you. 

"Remind me never to piss you off", he joked, wrapping on his long arms around your shoulders, pulling you close to his chest. You never were the sentimental, or openly emotional person, but George had always been incredibly talented on bringing that side of you out. And of course, he knew it too. You slightly laughed, leaning into him. You two walked like this along the paths, a comfortable silence between you as you made your way to the carriages. By the time you'd reached the gothic black carriage, Fred and Oliver were waiting for you two. Oliver extended a hand, helping you up in. Although you hadn't needed assistance, it wasn't often you'd been blessed in the presence of a gentleman. You sat down next to George, and Fred gave you a concerned look. You slightly shook your head, giving him a reassuring wink. The four of you talked, waiting for everyone's carriages to be filled in order to start the trek to the castle. 

"So, y/n, ye give any thought to quidditch this year?", Oliver drawled, and it took everything in you to choke back a laugh. You placed a finger to your chin, tapping it rhythmically, as if you were deep in thought. 

"Hmmmm, uh no. I'm not playing that bloody sport. I'm awful! Ask Fred, he's tried teaching me countless times, and I've barely managed to make it past the whole "don't fall off and die" part. Than you want me to have a role? And than actually play against angsty aggressive teens? No thanks, I chose life.", you finished your opinion, folding your arms in your lap. The three boys laughed and laughed, almost howling. 

"It's true, she barely manages to stay on her own broom. I tried sharing a broom with her, and let me just say this Wood; never underestimate her strength. Her arms were wrapped around my waist so tightly, I swore she was about to break every rib in my body. Took everything in me to not push her off, actually.", he joked, grinning as you kicked him in the ankle. 

You four continued talking quidditch, which somehow spiraled into a conversation about classic literature studies, unaware that the carriages had begun moving. You stared aimlessly at the empty space in front of the carriage, pondering the physics of a self moving cart. You were so confused yet fascinated by this, that you hadn't felt the first nudge, nor the second. But the third one you surly did, quickly snapping your head towards George. 

"Ow, what the bloody hell was that for?", you hissed, rubbing the spot he elbowed. For a skinny twat, the child has elbows that could kill. 

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