the lucky one

two lucky gits

Miranda surveys the Gryffindor common room closely, taking in the crackling fire and the overwhelming amount of red and gold accents.

    "Hello!" Two voices speak from behind her.

Miranda turns around to the identical faces of a pair of gangly red headed boys. They look suspiciously like the one from the Great Hall, and the stuffy fellow who'd led them through the portrait hole.

    Except, these two thrum with mischief and energy. Their brown eyes spark, crackling with an untamable fire.

    Miranda has to admit, they're sort of cute. In a roguish, troublemaker sort of way. Freckles and a confident air about them as they fold their arms, leaning against the wall in that specific devil may care manner.

    "I'm Fred," one says animatedly, pumping her hand up and down

    "I'm George," just as the eager, the other one barely lets his twin finish his own introduction.

    "Although I could be George," Fred ponders. At least, Miranda thinks it's Fred.

    "And I could be Fred."

    "There's really no way to know, is there?" Fred, or maybe George, smirks mischievously.

    "You're new." George— or maybe Fred... says to her.

    "Welcome!" They say in perfect sync.

    Miranda's eyebrows shoot up, mouth quirking. "Do you always talk at the same time?" she asks.

    "No," the twins answer in unison.

    A girl with equally vibrant red hair approaches, "Are these two bothering you? God knows they're good at it."

    "Some would say it's our most attractive characteristic," Fred winks.

    The fiery haired girl punches him in the shoulder, hard. "I'm Ginny Weasley, and Git One And Git Two are my older brothers."

    "Weasley," Miranda peers at them closely, "so you're related to Ron then?'

    George replies quickly, "Git Number Three."

    "Excuse them please," Ginny waves the boys away. "You've already met Ron, then?"

    "Yes, and Hermione and Harry," Miranda informs her, wondering how old she is.

    "Ah, the Golden Trio," Ginny snorts wryly, shaking her head, "good luck with that."

    "Sorry, did you just call them the 'Golden Trio'? And— what do you mean good luck?" Miranda's forehead knits together in confusion. They'd all seemed perfectly friendly to her.

    "Let's just say if there's trouble, those three are bound to be in the thick of it, and god forbid you try to join in," Ginny mulls sourly, more to herself than Miranda. "Trust me, I've tried. They're a secretive little bunch."

    "Practically impenetrable," Fred and George appear on either side of Miranda.

    We'll see about that. Miranda thinks to herself, intrigued. She loves a good challenge, and there was something about the way Harry had looked at her earlier that made her want to know more.

    She makes her way over to where the three are sitting, talking in hushed voices, heads bent close. Miranda can make out the words "Sirius" and "hiding" before they abruptly stop talking when they notice her.

    "Oh no," Miranda pouts mockingly, "please don't stop on my account. Are you talking about how Sirius Black escaped?"

    Hermione, Harry, and Ron freeze, all trying to stammer an explanation out.