The Others

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 Martha and I stared at each other. Not saying a word. The reason of this was, well, we were having a staring contest. She won, of course, now she won't let me forget it.

 Ever. After a few string contests, we got incredibly bored. We lied down on the seats, talking about how school is going to be this year.

 "Being in my fifth year," Martha said, "I know my way around the entire castle!" I sat up quickly, "Umm, Excuse me? I'm in my Sith year, so I know all the secret passages into Hogsmead."

 Martha rolled her eyes and sat up, "I'm still better at Staring Contests." I huffed and lied back down. We sat in silence after that, for about half an hour. Just when I thought this whole trip was going to be calm and quiet, the compartment door slid open.

 Three figures were standing just opposite of the compartment door. One girl, with purple hair and pale skin, had a huge smirk on her face.

 The other girl, a redhead, had spray cans in her hands. The third figure was a boy, with extremely green eyes, stood there with an uneasy look on his face.

 "Oi, Larry," said the purple haired one, "you ready to cause some mischief?" I smiled. "Hell yeah."

 Bella Weasley was her name. Daring, fun, and a tad bit stupid. Her parents? Ron and Hermione Weasley of course. She winked and ran into the next compartment, spraying her house colors on the wall.

 The ginger one smiled. "Melody, how many cans d'you have?" I asked. She opened her book bag and pulled out so many colors of paint I think my heart stopped.

 Melody had what most would call, the worst of her parents. When you mix her mum Ginny's attitude and her dad Harry's mischief, it was a calling for disaster.

 "I don't know, Mel," said the boy. Melody rolled her eyes, "Oscar, if our friendship is going to last, you're gonna have to do this."

 Oscar was the sane one of the group. His parents, Seamus and Lavender Finnigan, defiantly raised a gentlemen. Although, he his a bit....destructive.

 He moaned a little then grabbed a spray can. I tried to muffle my laughter. Martha had no interest in painting anything, so she just lied there like a helpless worm. Melody threw me some paint, and we went into the train corridor, and painted squiggly lines on the walls

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