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"ANYTHING FROM THE TROLLEY?" the shrill voice rang through the small train cart, causing the three girls to look up from a few scattered copies of the Quibbler, courtesy of a housemate, Luna.
"No thanks," mumbled Lilly Lavender and Daphne Prickett, looking back down at the tragic front page that stared them in the face in a haunting print: Death Eaters Riot at the Wizard World Cup. No amount of sweets could dilute such a sour taste, and at least the Quibbler wasn't afraid to report truth.
"I'll take one chocolate frog, please," her own voice shimmered, deep brown eyes peeking over her copy of the Quibbler. Chocolate frogs, her favorite. Eliza Cawthorne stood, towering over the plump Honeydukes's witch. Exchanging some coins for the candy, Eliza ripped open the frog, and then looked up at the sound of another adenoidal tone.
To those eyes.
The eyes she'd only known since before she could babble a word. The eyes that caused all of her problems, and fixed them just as quickly.
"Ronald," the girl straightened her back, pushing her lips into a straight line.
"Eliza," the redhead shot back, in a nasally voice only to poke fun at the girl. About to turn away, to go back to her friends that wanted her around, when a croak caused her to glance down at her hands —
to see the chocolate frog that wasn't there anymore, but rather on Ronald Weasley's cheek.
In hindsight, it was hilarious. Or at least, wouldhave been hilarious in magnitude had she and Ron still been attached at the hip. They would've laughed about it for ages, like they did back when...
"Who'd you get?" Ron squealed, his short legs dangling from the seats of the Hogwarts Express, chocolate wiped across his chubby cheeks and even in his shaggy red hair.
"Rowena Ravenclaw. This makes the fourth time!"
"All I can seem to get is Godric Gryffindor myself. Maybe it's a sign?" Little Ron plucked the card from Eliza's hands, searching it for any clues about their future at Hogwarts.
"Absolutely not. The Cawthorne's ten times backwards have been in Gryffindor. There's no way I'm not."
"Fair. I hope I get Gryffindor, so I can be greater than Bill and Charlie and all those Weasley's before me. But promise me — no matter what houses we're sorted, we'll always be best friends?"
The brunette stuck her short pinky out towards the redhead, "cross my heart."
"Hope to die."
"Bloody hell!" The boy squealed, scrambling to grab the chocolate frog that was wiped across his face. Eliza shook her head in an attempt to wipe Little Ron and Little Eliza from her mind. And before she knew it, she was staring at the chocolate oozing from from beneath Ron's hand-me-down boots. A scowl found its way to her face. He'd never had anything new, she was reminded, and guilt shot through her chest as she looked at the boy once more before slamming the train cart shut, taking her place and grabbing the Quibbler.
