"Come on Evie! Get a move on!"
"I'm doing my best Tristan!" She screeched back. "Why don't you get your lazy arse up here and help me for a change? And don't call me Evie!"
"I could." He shouted back. "But where would be the fun in that?"
A frustrated screech could be heard from above them, causing Tristan to wince, he had experienced his sister's temper one-to-many times before. "You are so infuriating Tristan Wolfe!" She ranted. "If it weren't for the fact you were my brother I wouldn't want to have anything to do with you!"
"Love you too Evie!" He called back, his face an expression of glee. No matter how much it hurt his ears to hear his sister angry, it was always amusing.
After what seemed like an age his sister finally made it down the stairs, lugging her trunk behind her and looking very red faced indeed.
"You took your time," He commented casually.
"Sorry about that, you see I have this prat of a brother,-" She broke off at here to stare at him pointedly, "-who refused to help me pack."
"In all fairness you should have packed last night..." he commented casually.
"Oh, here we go again! You sound like mother when you talk like that!"
"Speaking of mother..." He commented softly.
As if on cue, their mother appeared from the dining room to their left. She was dressed in 'high fashion' clothing and looked as excited as they felt.
"Off to Hogwarts today!" She sung, flinging her arms wide.
"Yes mother," They both sighed in unison. Neither of them had wanted to transfer from their old school in America to go to Hogwarts.
"I remember my Hogwarts days, I was sorted into Ravenclaw with Daphne, we were best friends-" she rambled on her, face drifting into a dreamlike state. After a while she seemed to have reached the end of her trail, "So, what was all that shouting about?"
"Evie didn't pack…again." Tristan drawled.
"Guinevere dear, I tell you every year to pack on time! You really should have packed last night!" She shared a look with her brother at this and though he hated to admit it, Tristan agreed he sounded like their mother.
An hour later they still hadn't left the house. Tristan was the one who took the time to glance at his watch and shout, "Merlin! We're going to miss the train!"
"Oh great!" Guinevere exclaimed. "We're going to miss the train now, because of you Tristan!"
"Because of me?" He exclaimed indignantly. "I seem to remember someone spending an hour packing and repacking, then repacking her trunk once more!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She said sarcastically. "I was merely making use of my time while you argued with mother over how we are to get to King's Cross! I mean, does it really matter whether we use Floo Powder or apparation?"
"Enough, you two! We've wasted enough time. Now, grab onto my arm, we're going to have to apparate to King's cross."
"But-"
"No buts!"
The sickening sensation of apparition followed and soon they stood on the platform of King's Cross station, clutching their trunks tightly. One by one, they subtly slipped through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. Whatever they had expected to see, it wasn't the sight that awaited them. There was no scarlet train; no swarms of excited children polluting the platform.
"Er, did we get the right day?" Guinevere asked.
A brief look at their train tickets told them they had indeed got the right day. "Right, I'm going to have to apparate you into Hogsmeade now, you can walk the rest of the way," their mother decided.
"I don't see why we don't just delay the trip to school," Tristan complained in an undertone to his sister.
"I know! And apparition is hardly the most pleasing sensation." Guinevere replied,
No matter how many complaints she received from her offspring, Gloria Wolfe had always been determined to get her children to Hogwarts. She hadn't seen the point in sending them to that American school in the first place, they were bound to be kicked out at some point and make their way to Hogwarts. Well, Guinevere was at least, and with one twin you always got another.
Upon arrival at Hogsmeade, Gloria Wolfe instantly switched into over-protective-mother mode. "Now, you behave yourselves this year! Behaving badly is not going to earn your place back at Salem! Guinevere dear, try to keep your hair under control! First impressions are everything! Tristan, I think you have some dirt on your cheek-" she reached her hand out to rub it off, but Tristan pushed it away, an embarrassed look on his face.
"Mum..." He mumbled, half-complaining.
"Tristan do try to ignore the example your sister sets you. I'll see you both at Christmas! Have a nice term! Don't you roll your eyes at me young lady! Fine, I'm going now…Love you!" and with that, their mother was gone.
"At last!" Guinevere exclaimed. "I thought she was never going to leave!" Tristan chuckled his agreement.
"So," He said.
"So," Guinevere echoed. But her 'so' meant something completely different to his. He was intending to head straight for Hogwarts. Guinevere, however, had other plans.
"Evie…" He warned her. Tristan knew his sister, and at that point he could see the smirk on her face. The smirk that meant she was planning something.
"What?" She replied, looking like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "And I've told you not to call me Evie, Tristan."
Before Tristan could open his mouth to call her 'Evie' again, he was cut off by his twin sister, "I was merely suggesting we take a quick look around Hogsmeade." She said, gesturing to the village that lay in front of them.
Tristan knew his sister too well to even think it would be a 'quick look', Dumbledore would be lucky if he received his two newest students in time for the sorting ceremony. His mother really should have known better than to leave them here, alone.
"Please, Tristan?" She asked him, fluttering her eyelids to complete the picture.
"Fine…" He said, he always knew he was going to give in. It wasn't that he was a pushover, it was simply due to the fact his little sister could be very persuasive.
It was safe to say that over the next few hours, the Wolfe twins had the best fun they'd had in years. They bought so much chocolate they thought they would be sick from Honeydukes. They scared themselves silly with old stories and tales of the Shrieking Shack. They (Guinevere) bought various products from Zonko's which would inspire one of their mother's famous, ever-lasting rants. They (Tristan) spent ages in the Tomes and Scrolls, uhm-ing and ahh-ing over which book to buy. They spent a large portion of their time in The Three Broomsticks, warming up with a couple of Butterbeers.
"I-" Tristan began while they sat in The Three Broomsticks.
"-think it was high time we should go now?" Guinevere guessed. "Yeah, I guess so."
With a resigned expression on their faces they turned to head leave the pub. It had become somewhat colder (and darker) in their absence, and Guinevere was forced to put a coat on after much nagging from her brother.
"Right. Where do we go?" She asked.
"Er…that way?" He guessed, pointing towards a forest with a track running through it.
"You have no idea where we're going, do you?" Guinevere asked, a smirk on her face.
"No."
"Well, I guess we'll just have to ask for directions, won't we?"
"No. I'll work it out."
Guinevere let out a long and exaggerated sigh before asking (though who to neither of them was sure), "What is it with men and directions?"
"We don't need directions!" Tristan insisted.
"Ugh! You're all the same! We're obviously lost! Just ask for directions!"
"I told you, we don't need directions!"
"I'll remind you of that when we get lost and savaged by beasts, then split up and possibly killed!" She exclaimed, hand gestures all over the place.
"You do that." He assured her.