Sparks Fly || A George Weasley Story

Year 4: Wrath Of Thy Mother

"Here, you totally have to write me over the summer," Angie laughed, pulling Pandora's arm over in front of her and scribbling the address to the camp on it.

"I was just about to say the same thing," Pandora smiled over at Angie even though she wasn't looking up at her. 

The train came to a stop as she finished scribbling down the address and signing it with a heart, "It might take me a bit to get back to you, but I promise that I will write you back as soon as I can." 

"Don't stress," Pandora said, "I don't mind a wee little wait."

"Have I told you how much I like your accent?" Angelina asked as Heather and I got to our feet so that we could get off the train. 

"I think you might have said that once or twice, but I don't mind hearing it again," Pandora laughed, getting up too. 

"I'm sure you'll hear it again," Angelina rolled her eyes, "I've got a soft spot for the Irish accent." 

"You're not the only one, poppet," Pandora grinned, "But unfortunately you won't be able to hear it all summer, but I will be looking forward to our next train ride." 

"You're not the only one either, Pandora," Angie winked. 

"Do you think that we should give them a moment?" Heather asked with a light giggle. 

"Definitely," I whispered back. 

"Don't worry your pretty little heads, we ain't about to start mauling the face off each other," Pandora laughed. 

"What in the bloody hell does that mean?" Heather asked, sounding absolutely appalled. 

"Excuse me, your highness," Pandora said, clearing her throat, "We aren't about to start snogging right here in front of you." 

"That's sort of the reason that we're leaving," Heather said, "So you two can get your little thing going."

"Yeah, we don't want to get in the way," I winked as Heather and I slipped out of the compartment door and out into the crowd of students doing their best to get back to their homes and away from all the homework and stress of the previous school year. 

We made it out onto the platform, quickly grabbing onto our trollies with our trunks and pets stacked onto them. I hung back towards train, not really wanting to see exactly how mad Amaryllis would be at me. Sure, she would be happy to see that I was fine, but at the same time, I'd done the exact opposite of what she'd asked of me and it blew up in my face exactly the way that she said it would. I hated when she was right because it was always about something bad. 

"Love, what are you just standing around for?" I heard someone whisper in my ear and I almost jumped straight out of my skin. 

"Merlin's beard, George," I said, clutching my hand to my chest, "You can't just sneak up on people like that."

"But if we just came up to you while you were aware that that's what we were doing, you wouldn't have such a funny reaction, darling." Fred said, leaning against the side of the train. 

"I feel like I've asked you to not call me that," I pouted. 

"Come on, darling," Fred sighed, "Everyone gets to call you a nickname, but me." 

"Pick a better nickname," George shrugged. 

"You literally use the most basic nickname on the face of the planet," Fred sighed. 

"It's classic." 

"It's boring is what it is," Fred said, biting at his nails.
 
"I like it," I spoke up, "I mean, as a nickname or whatever."