Sisters; Can't Live With Them, Can't Prank Without Them

All good things must come to an end

By the end of it all I got on the Hogwarts Express again worried about the same thing as when I got on for the first time that year. Melanie.

"You don't think he's got his sights set on her?" I asked anxiously as we made our way down the train to find an empty compartment.

"I don't know what you're stressing about," said Lione. "Mel's right. You are overprotective."

"I'm sure she'll be fine," said Gregory. "Just tell her to keep her wand with her at all times. She can use it in self defence you know."

"Isn't that a bit harsh?" said Lucy. "I mean it is just a boy, you know."

"A fifth year!" I protested. "How could she go out with a fifth year? That's just sick. Sick and wrong."

"You know, I don't know what Melanie's complaining about," said Lucy. "I wish my brother cared about me that much to spend every waking hour worrying about my welfare."

"And keeping track of where you are every second of every day," Lione added.

"And talking to his friends about it," said Gregory.

"All the time," they chorused.

We sat down in an empty compartment. "Do you guys practice that or something?"

"No," they all said simultaneously.

"Not even you, Gregory," I insisted. "When you talk to yourself when you're all alone in the dormitory."

Lucy and Lione grinned and stared at him.

Gregory blushed. "I don't talk to myself."

I smiled. "Anyway, the only reason I was keeping track of her all day was because I was worried scary creepy guy would come back. It was lucky I did otherwise I'd have never found out about the Mark thing."

"And that would be a bad thing, would it?"

"I can't help it if I care about my sister."

"This isn't brotherly care, this is obsessive-compulsive behaviour."

"Honestly, do you think Mel will be okay over the summer?" They all looked at me. "The scary creepy guy thing," I prompted.

"Oh," said Lione. "Yeah. That. I'm sure she'll be fine."

"Maybe he'll take out some adults instead," said Lucy quietly.

We were all silent. Lione put her arm around Lucy and she smiled up at her. We knew it was finally safe to talk about it.

"So where are you staying?" I asked.

"My grandparents," said Gregory. "Our grandparents I mean. We both are."

"Except for the first week when she's staying with me," said Lione. "To give Mr and Mrs Weasley a chance to get set up." She gave Gregory a meaningful look. "That's what happens when you leave the arrangements until the last minute."

"It slipped my mind," Gregory protested, shaking his finger in her direction. "You can't say I didn't have better things to do."

"Where's Colubra staying?" Lione asked.

"With a friend," said Lucy, looking at her knees. "He didn't really like the idea that I was staying with the Weasley side of the family."

"Snob," said Gregory.

"Well you can't exactly blame him," Lucy snapped. "It's not as if your side did anything to accept us."

"I'm doing something."

"Not for him."

"He's a snob!"

"He's my brother!"

"He's a Slytherin."

"You're a pig."

"He's a Malfoy."

"You're a Weasley."

"And darn proud of it."

"Dagnammit," Lione added with a grin.

We laughed.

"So are you guys going to sign up for Frank's acting classes next year?" I asked.

"Are you kidding?" said Gregory. "I wouldn't go near that class with a fifty foot pole."

"And miss the great one in action," said Lione with almost convincing shock. "I do declare, you must be mad."

"Do you?" asked Lucy.

"Do I what?"

"Do you declare."

"No, I'd rather put my arm through a blender and eat it minced with chips."

I winced. "Ouch."

"Nah, it would probably taste nice with salad cream."

"I thought I might go along," Lucy commented. We stared. "For laughs," she added.

We breathed a sigh of relief.

"I heard Frank once had to dress up like a potato for an advert," Gregory told us.

"Poor naive star struck students," said Lione, shaking her head. "To think they might go to this class expecting some decent drama teaching. Instead they get Frank."

"Or Professor Dee as we have to call him now," I pointed out.

Lione shook her head. "I don't think I could call him anything but Frank now."

"He's a Prankster," said Gregory. "He's one of us. His being a teacher doesn't mean anything. We're on equal terms really. Plus beating a person at shed really connects you with a guy."

At the end of term feast Frank stood up and made a big dramatic speech announcing his real identity. It probably would have been much better if Lucy hadn't spoilt it by telling everyone in the entire school who he really was over the last few weeks of term. Even then I'm sure he would have felt better about it if Lione, having heard he was going to make the speech beforehand, hadn't organised it so everybody in the school (including some of the cheekier teachers) suddenly launched into the Cheese's every purpose store song. Frank had blushed as red as a stop sign.

He went on to announce that he was going to be holding acting classes the next year. A few people expressed some mild interest but I think the fact that at this point all of the Slytherins suddenly burst in to hysterical laughter didn't fill him with complete confidence. To tell the truth the hysterical laughter didn't have anything (or at least everything. It may have contributed a teeny bit) to do with the announcement. It was, in fact, due to us having put laughter potions in all the Slytherin food. It took us ages to calm Lione down. She was rejoicing over how perfect the timing was.

By this point we had been regularly playing cards with Frank and his dogs. It started with a single suggestion by Lucy that we might go back for another go. Gregory and I were doubtful but the girls were persuasive so we went. They then went on to take all the money we had. I swear they were ganging up on us. How could it be a coincidence that Lucy just 'happened' to know that Lione had Mr and Mrs Teacup? And If I was sitting next to Lucy, how did Lione know I had all but one of the dragon tamer family?

Anyway, mid game, Frank walked in and demanded to know what we were doing. Lione replied that she didn't know about the rest of us but she was building up the potion maker's family. At which point Gregory asked for Master Cauldron and she replied that she didn't have him. Gregory said she must. Lione said she didn't. Gregory said she had to and so on and so on. Frank interrupted (thankfully) and told us to get out. Lucy said delicately (while tickling the Jack Russell behind his ear) that "Wouldn't it be shame if McGonagall happened to find out that not only was he keeping unlicensed talking dogs on the site but using them for the purposes of gambling." Frank considered this and then challenged us all to a game of Kings saying that if he won we would have to keep quiet about his dogs. We then went on to beat him miserably. So from then on we got to play cards with him and his dogs whenever we wanted. We honestly did play fair even though we beat him every time.

Of course we cheated the first time...

Melanie danced in to the compartment. "Lione," she said. "Play guitar."

"I'm not a jukebox," Lione informed her. "You can't just get me to play anytime you want."

Melanie dug into her pocket and plucked out a sickle, which she tossed to Lione. "Voodoo," she commanded. "By Sasha Lewis."

To our, or at least my, great surprise, Lione grabbed her guitar and launched in to the hit. Melanie started singing while Gregory obligingly burst into the deep repetitive 'Voodoo' that forms the background.

"You see that guy, walking along the street,

He's got a something that I really want to meet.

He roughs me up,

Then turns me down.

He better be careful not to make me frown.

Because it's Voodoo! Watch out for the snake.

I'll put you in he microwave and, watch you bake.

All I need is a picture, and a little bit of hair.

Some foreign spices, and a little bit of care.

I wrap it up!

Then melt it down.

He'll be in trouble next time he's in town.

Because it's Voodoo! Watch out for the snake,

I'll put you in the microwave and, watch you bake.

Get a little bit of wax, shape it in to a man,

I get some pins and do the best I can.

Shall I go for his eyes?

Or for his little thing?

What a shame he didn't listen when I sing.

Because it's Voodoo! Watch out for the snake,

I'll put you in the microwave and, watch you bake,

Because it's Voodoo! Watch out for the shark!

You'll wake up in the morning and wonder, what's that mark?

Because it's Voodoo! Watch out for me,

I'm walking up your corridor and I'm, coming for tea."

By the end several people from adjourning compartments had filed in to listen and join in. When Lione put her guitar down and it looked as if she wasn't going to pick it up again they all left. Melanie and a few of her friends stayed behind.

"I love that song," said Melanie.

"You love all songs," I pointed out.

"Not true," said Melanie. "I can't stand the Spice Girls."

"No one can," said Lione. "It's physically impossible."

"Hey Leigh," said Melanie. "Do you know the theme to M*A*S*H?"

"A," Lione replied. "No. B, you need a trumpet and a flute."

"But I bet you know tons of songs Oasis."

"Surprisingly enough, not one thing."

"You don't know very many famous things, do you?"

"No."

"Oh."

And with a final syllable Melanie and her friends walked out of the door. We stared after her.

"You know, Joseph," said Lione. "Sometimes I find myself thinking that your sister is an incredibly odd person. Then I think, who am I to speak?"

"The one thing I don't understand," I started.

"Why do I get the feeling we're in the rounding up bit of a detective show?" Gregory interrupted.

"More like a detective book," said Lucy. "They're the ones where people say 'What I don't understand is how he got into the tennis court without leaving any footprints in the clay' and the detective - who usually has some snooty French name even though he has no French accent - says something like 'Ah! That was discovered after some intrinsic detective work. Not at the crime scene, my dear fellow, like my blundering police comrades, but into the background of my chief suspect. You see Doctor whatshisname - whoever it was that killed the bloke - was once a member of the Russian ballet. He was able to tiptoe along the lines of the court, stab Professor dolally - the victim - then tiptoe away using exactly the same path as he did to get there, thus leaving no trace of his being there'.

"Then the listener usually goes 'By Jove! But why was Doctor Frigglestein your chief suspect?' and the detective says 'I came to that conclusion after luckily hearing a conversation with Doctor Frigglestein when he used the telephone early on Thursday morning-"

"Yes, all right," said Lione. "Too much, Air Jet."

"Anyway," said Gregory. "They always do the phone call on Sunday morning."

"Gregory," said Lione, in a tone that made me naively think we were going to get back to some sanity. "It's Tuesday. Always is."

"Thursday," Lucy protested. "The strange woman in black comes on Tuesday to deliver the cryptic message that the detective immediately deciphers even though, even after he's done it, you have no idea how he got from the brief collection of syllables to a vital clue."

"Hold on, hold on," said Gregory "Doctor Frigglestein made the call himself? I thought it was Lord Somethingorother to Doctor Frigglestein."

I felt the need to interrupt here. "Can I please finish my sentence here?" I begged. "Besides, Lord Somethingorother calls his wife Lady Somethingorother about how he's trying to blackmail Doctor Frigglestein because he witnessed the murder."

"And then Doctor Frigglestein kills Lord Somethingorother," Lione added.

"With the help of Lady Somethingorother because she is having an afair with him!" concluded Lucy, happily. "This is fun."

"What about the dog?" Gregory asked

"Which dog?"

"There's always a dog."

"Lord Somethingorother's dog?" Lione suggested. "Maybe it bit Lady Somethingorother on the leg,"

"And also the detective!" cried Lucy delightedly. "So he was able to compare the bite marks so he knew she was the one who assisted Doctor Frigglestein with the murder!"

"But why with Lord Somethingorother's dog bite Lady Somethingorother? Surely it would know her."

"What I don't understand is my dreams," I said quickly, trying to get the sentence out before chaos decided to reign again. "Didn't they mean anything?"

"No," affirmed Lione.

"You mean the cookie dough one?" Gregory asked.

"No, the ones about Melanie laughing at me, Lione and Lucy hitting you with handbags while Frank twiddled his moustache and the Malfoy mansion exploding into a bunch of singing elves."

Lucy frowned. "Frank doesn't have a moustache..."

"It was a sign of evilness," I insisted. "All evil guys have moustaches."

"Voldemort didn't have-"

"In the movies! In films all evil guys have moustaches."

"Maybe it was showing your underlying fears that Frank was evil." We stared at Gregory in genuine shock. "What?" he said, sulkily. "I can be smart..."

"Did you look that up?" Lione asked.

Gregory grinned and nodded. "Ages ago. I'm so glad you brought it up."

Lione was fazed for only a minute. "They're just dreams," she said. "Just your mind chugging over some of the stuff in your head. You're not supposed to take any notice of them. Unless of course you have some sort of unconscious conflict with your father that you haven't told us about."

"Some Muggle Fraud guy said it was all to do with loving your mother," said Gregory.

"Freud," Lione corrected.

"I stand by my assessment."

At this point Adrasteia Vini, Hogwarts new crack reporter (breaker of such amazing stories as 'Term ends this week' and 'The odd smell of the fourth floor landing') stuck her head around the door.

"There you are!" she cried. "I've been looking for you for weeks. This'll have to go in the first paper of next year now." She pounced on Joseph. "So how did it feel hanging an inch from death knowing that any moment your friend could have lost his-"

"Her," Lione interrupted.

"We'll put in a revision next issue," said Adrasteia automatically. "Any moment your friend could have lost his grip and left you and your sister plunging into unknown depths and uncertain death. Or that a monster could have come along and provided, if you don't mind me saying so, rather more certain death."

I stared. "Maybe you should talk to Melanie," I suggested.

"Already have," she said, dismissively. "She's going on the front cover, I just need a few more quotes to fill it out."

"How nice," I said.

"It was the man eating snake that scared me," said Gregory.

"And the bears," Lucy added. "The huge magic ones that freeze you then defrost you over a fire before having a nice burger from your lungs and using your skin as its tent."

"But Gregory wasn't scared," said Gregory. "Oh no, not him."

"He couldn't see them," Lione stated, matter-of-factly.

"That enough?" Gregory asked, innocently.

Adrasteia, scribbling viciously, nodded and wandered out the door. We watched her leave.

"She's going to put that in," I said. "Isn't she?"

"Yep."

***

We got off the train and, in twos, were let through the barrier between platforms three and four and reappeared in the Muggle world. Lione spotted her parents straight away and gave both Gregory and me hugs before going towards them.

"Write me," she told me, before turning to Gregory. "See you soon, Greg. If you don't come personally to pick up Lucy I shall be incredibly insulted and won't let you have her."

With one final Lioneish smile she and a giggling Lucy headed off. I smiled as well, Gregory had turned a very peculiar pink colour.

Nearby Melanie said goodbye to her friends and sidled up to me.

"Mum and Dad here yet?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "But give them time to get out of their Invisibility Cloaks."

Not funny, I know. Melanie didn't get it.

"What's an Invisibility Cloak?"

I meant to turn to her and ask how she could have survived so long in the magical world but I didn't get a chance. I was flattened by a blond blur.

"JOSEPH!"

I took Caitlyn in my arms while Melanie loaded up the baggage cart in Mum's hands with her many bags.

"So this is Catty," said Gregory. "She's cute. See, you were worried about nothing."

Caitlyn stared at him. "What's this about a banana?" she asked.

"Monkey," I corrected.

"Banana," she contradicted firmly.

"Fair enough," I said. "Bye, Asher."

"Bye, Starsy," said Gregory. "Chill, okay?"

I smiled. "Okay," I agreed before carrying my perfectly fine littlest sister out of the station.

THE END