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Lyra hurried herself down the train corridor, frantically searching for her any of her friends, most importantly Daphne, or Astoria Greengrass.
She had accidentally bumped into a few people on her way, but she had quickly apologised before hurrying of again.
But not everyone is so quick to forgive her for her actions. Lyra had bumped into yet another person, but they didn't take it as lightly as the other students.
"Watch where you're going, you git." An all too familiar voice spoke behind her.
Lyra froze. She straightened her back, schooling her features before turning around to face him.
There he was. Fred Fucking Weasley, alongside his almost identical brother.
Fred stood there, tall with that signature frustrated tug on his lips he always had anytime they encountered each other, eyes gleaming with somewhat annoyance.
George stood beside him awkwardly, watching the encounter with a tense expression, but it was Fred who had his full attention on her, just like always.
"I said, watch where you're going," he repeated a bit louder, god can't he just shut up.
"Why are you in such a hurry anyway? It's not like the people in this train is going anywhere, so might as well take it easy before you knock someone over."
"Maybe not now Fred, let's just find our mates-" George said, but Fred shot him a glare which meant 'do not interrupt', George rolled his eyes at this.
Lyra really had no time for this, especially not from him, or his twin as a fact. She had to find her friends, especially the Greengrass sisters, who had visited Paris this holiday, and Lyra had to know the details from the trip.
"Maybe if you and your oversized orange head didn't take up half the corridor, I wouldn't have bumped into you," she snapped back as she rolled her eyes. Her comment earned a snicker from George.
"George, are you really picking her side?" Fred sighed in disapproval as he talked to his twin brother.
"Might as well. You've spent your five years attending this school, mostly bothering her." George snickered back, earning a punch in the shoulder by Fred.
Lyra crossed her arms, what a waste of my time. "Just admit you're still bitter about the last Quidditch match, Weasley."
Fred's jaw tightened slightly as memories of their last matchâwhere Lyra had completely knocked him off his own broom no doubt replayed in his mind.
It had been replayed in his mind all summer. Her taunting laughter and cheering after the match, and the party they celebrated before summer holiday, completely mocking the whole Gryffindor team.
"Please, I have other- far more important things to spend my summer thinking about than that stupid match. You were only lucky anyway," Fred said as calmly as he could, though the sharp edge in his voice gave him away.
The expression on George's face said otherwise.
"Oh, please, brother. Lyra Arakan was at the top of your vocabulary list this whole summer. And just to clear things up, that list is long," George snickered.
This earned him another punch in the shoulder, which he groaned at. Lyra raised her eyebrow at George's comment, but didn't think much of it.
"Oh, just pure luck? You really are delusional," she replied back.
"Prove me wrong this year then, that you are better than me. Prove to me my quidditch skills are just pure luck, and that you're so naturally talented."
Fred took a step closer towards her, closing the space between them. George watched the interaction quietly.
Lyra felt as the corridor began to shrink, the air crackling with unspoken tension. Lyra's breath caught for a moment, before she composed herself.
"We'll see about that," Fred muttered back, his voice low in a hushed tone. Lyra could swear she saw a small smirk forming at the corner of his lips.
"You might have the skills, but we've got the heart. Gryffindor won't lose to Slytherin this year."
Lyra's lips curled into a sneer before she let out a pityfull chuckle.
"Quidditch isn't about heart. It's about winning, it's about realising your mistakes, and improving them. That's what quidditch is about."
Fred's eyes narrowed before he stepped back, returning to George's side. "That's why you'll never understand what real victory is."
She raised an eyebrow. "And you do? Remind me again who lost last year"
"You always think you're so clever," he said. "I'll show you this year, Gryffindor will completely dominate you, and your team," He said with his arms across his chest.
Before she could respond, George, who had been watching silently, stepped forward and clapped Fred on the shoulder, breaking the moment.
"Easy, mate. Let's not traumatise the poor girl. We'll need her in one piece for the next Quidditch match."
Fred tore his gaze away from Lyra, who was now silent. His usual signature cocky grin of course returning as he looked towards at his twin brother, agreeing with what he said.
"Yeah, you're right. We wouldn't want to rob her of the only fun she gets."
He smirked, sparing her a final glance before turning his heel. As he was about to open the compartment door, the brakes belonging to the train suddenly echoed through the hallway.
A loud screeching sound terrorised their ears.
A feeling of panic entered Lyra's chest as she stumbled onto the floor, due to the shaking.
She didn't have time to process before a pair of muscular arms lifted her up, dragging her into a compartment, closing the door behind them.
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