prankster || r.w.

1.

Date: 9/1/1995, 3:45 am.

Elliot had waited for this day her whole life since she was brought to the home of her foster parents, the girl becoming an orphan when her parents died. She was on the shorter side, maybe five feet and three inches tall. Her hair was short and dark, her eyes hazel with hints of blue. She had met Ozzy that day when she first arrived in the old home; they were ten. Ozzy's mother ended up overdosing leaving Ozzy's father to then commit suicide due to his grief, and the girl was brought to the same foster home. It was perhaps the only good thing to come out of their time in the home. Of course, other children would come and go. No one ever wanted to adopt the pair as they were now teenagers, and that left them to now be the only children in the care of Timothy and Cherri Bertram. Ozzy's hair was strawberry-blonde, and her eyes were as well hazel with more of a yellow hue to them, and she had a short and narrow nose with plump lips and freckles. She was taller than Elliot, maybe around five feet and six inches, and was more slender, but their humor was a perfect mirror into each other's brains.
"OZZY!" Elliot's voice screeched out, the girl at the bottom of the steps holding her bags. She gave a quick glance over to her foster parents, the middle-aged couple scowling at their foster child. Soon, the clambering of Elliot's friend came down the steps. The two had been adopted by the same woman, and they were getting on a plane to head to Manchester before getting on a train and heading to London. The girls were from Galway, and they were supposedly getting enrolled immediately into a school as soon as they arrived in London, and their train to their new school left at 11:00 am from King's Cross Station that day.
"It is way too early for this," Ozzy told Elliot as she shook her head.
"Oz, you'll have 40 minutes to sleep on the airplane and then almost four hours on the train ride from Manchester to London," Elliot comforted her. "Now come on, I can't wait to get out of this bloody hell hole."
Their foster dad, Timothy, let out a scoff. "Now, Elliot, you better watch your tone..."
"Tim, stop it," Cherri shook her head. "Their cab is outside, and they'll be gone in less than ten minutes."
Elliot looked around at the dark house and nodded her head. "Yeah...we're leaving now. Bye."
The girls began out of the house before Timothy's voice spoke behind them. "The least you could do is thank us for watching you, you ungrateful twats."
Ozzy and Elliot spun around as the headed out the door, holding up their middle fingers. "Bye, asshats," Ozzy smiled. They slammed the door behind them as they marched out to their cab, the girls loading their luggage into the boot of the vehicle. It was bucketing down outside, the rain droplets hitting the surface of the cab. It was relaxing to them.
After about a twenty to thirty minute drive, the pair arrived at Galway Airport and boarded their plane. Elliot giggled at Ozzy as she slept in the seat beside her snoring loudly. People would look at the two and stare, and Elliot would glare at them. They got those looks all the time. Finally, they arrived at King's Cross Station, the time nearing nine am. They walked off of their train and onto the platform looking around at all their surroundings. Eventually, they spotted a woman gesturing them to come over. She wore long, velvet emerald green robes with a large broach around her neck, a hat clutched in her hand and her hair fastened in a tight bun. Surprisingly, no one stared nor looked at the woman weirdly, almost as this was a normal occurrence.
The two headed towards the oddly dressed female warily, Ozzy rubbing her eyes, simulating she was still tired from the lack of sleep she had gotten most likely due to the screaming baby that was seated in their compartment on the train. "You must be Miss Stewart and Miss Dunbar," the woman greeted, her voice polite and coated with a thick British accent. "My name is Minerva McGonagall, but you can call me by either." She had a warm smile, her skin aged but looked incredibly beautiful even with it.
"Can I call you 'Minnie'?" Elliot asked the woman, and her eyes got wide. The girl looked down. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you..."
     "No, dear, you may call me Minnie," she smiled. "I just haven't been called that name for several years."
     Elliot smiled and nodded. "Well, nice to meet you. You're the woman that adopted us?"
     "Indeed I am," Minerva's face contorted to a soft smile. "Now, I can't wait to get to know the two of you, but as you're aware you're enrolled in a school that the train leaves in about two hours?" she asked, and the girls nodded. "We must get your supplies before the train gets ready to leave at approximately 11:00. Now, I have to warn you, this will be quite a lot to take in."
     Ozzy and her short dark haired friend shared a quick glance. "We can take it." They nodded.
     "You are witches."
     Ozzy let out a bellowing laugh, as did Elliot. "That's a right nice joke, Minnie," Ozzy giggled, her strawberry colored hair bouncing slightly.
     "Why, it isn't a joke," Minerva shook her head. "Come on, I'll explain on the way to Diagon Alley."
     The woman spun on her foot and began to sashay her way through the crowd and towards the exit of the train station, the friends exchanging a glance. "'Diagon Alley'," Ozzy shook her head. "Will we ever get a break, Elle?"
     Elliot shook her head, following after the woman as she pulled her trunk behind her. "Never, Oz."

***

     The girls were proven wrong. Diagon Alley was a real thing. They were lead to a bar called The Leaky Cauldron, and Minvera rapped her "wand" on the bricks out the back door, which slowly folded over one another to reveal the entrance to an alleyway, the ground made of brick paths, the buildings brightly colored, crowds of people all around. Children were laughing and flying around on broomsticks.
     "We're dreaming," Elliot shook her head. "There is no way..."
     "You aren't dreaming, dear," Minerva spoke. "Magic is real, and all around you. Normally you come into the world of magic by the age of eleven, but we were never able to track you down. I understand that this doesn't seem normal..."
      "Yeah," Ozzy nodded, her eyes wide. "This just breaks all the laws of physics..." she pointed at a floating broom.
      They came to a stop outside a green colored building, the name "Flourish and Blotts" across the sign hanging above the door. "This is where you will get your books, quills, and ink pots," Minerva told them.
     "Quills?" Elliot asked. "But we have ink pens. Why can't we just use those?"
     "Professor Dumbledore believes we should keep all supplies equal to those the founders used, whatever he means by that," she shrugged her shoulders slightly to not break her royal posture. "I've tried to convince him that most of the muggle-born students, like the two of you, are normal to using muggle items such as pens and pencils,  but most half-blood and pure-blood children that come from families that use magic in their everyday lives are used to the quills."
     Ozzy's eyebrows narrowed down, the girl nibbling on her lip. "What-what is a 'muggle', and a       'muggle-born', a 'half-blood', and a 'pure-blood' if you don't mind me asking?"
     "A muggle is non-magic folk," Minerva smiled. "So, muggle-borns are decedents of an all muggle family but happen to have magic in their blood, like Hermione Granger who you'll meet soon.             Half-bloods are the mix where you have some muggle descendants and some witch and or wizard descendants, like Harry Potter, and if you're a     pure-blood your entire family is made of witches and wizards, like the Weasley's who you will also meet soon."
     "This is going to be complicated," Elliot whispered to her friend as Minerva headed off into the green building, and the girls followed behind them.

***

     The girls made it back to King's Cross Station, Minerva leading the way towards a group of red-headed children with a few brunette kids as well. "This is where I leave you," McGonagall told the two rambunctious teenagers. "These are the Weasley's, they'll help you get to know everything."
     Elliot smiled as she patted the two on the back, and then suddenly disappeared. The girls tried not to look surprised but their eyes widening gave them away.
     "You're new to this, aren't you?" a brunette girl with bushy, curly hair and an arm full of books giggled. "I'm Hermione Granger."
     "I'm Ozzy Dunbar," the strawberry-blonde of the two pranksters smiled. "And this is my lousy best friend Elliot Stewart."
     "Oi, shut up," Elliot groaned, elbowing the girl in the ribs. "If anything she's the lousy one," she whispered to a boy standing next to her. She tilted her head up to meet his eyes, his hair red and shaggy, his smiled crooked. "Who are you?"
     He laughed slightly. "I'm Ron," he pointed to the only other brunette there; a guy with circular rimmed glasses, unkempt hair, and a scar on his forehead. "And this is Harry."
     "Mr. Chosen One over here is stealing all the attention," two voices spoke simultaneously behind her, making her whip around. The taller one smirked down at Elliot, her short hair shifting as she looked up. "I'm Fred." He pointed at his twin next to him who smirked and crossed his arms, speaking the words "and I'm George."
The only girl with flaming red hair moved between the pair of girls, wrapping her arms around both of the girls's shoulders. "And they're going to be your worst nightmares..." she let out a soft sigh and then patted their shoulders, "...welcome to the family."