"I won't be alone!" The little brushy brow Brit pulled out his book of magic from the bookshelf. A smile tugged at his lips as he flipped open the book to a particularly helpful spell. Looking over the spell he made a mental note on things he would need. "Sugar and spice...and everything nice!" He slammed the book shut. "I'll show that stupid frog face and loud albino."
The grinning blond sat the book on the kitchen floor, where he would start working. Walking around, he found the sugar canister and grabbed a jar of cinnamon and nutmeg off the spice rack. He pulled out the largest stock pot he could find dumping the ingredients into it. Once again he looked around, wondering what would be considered 'nice'.
"Flowers are nice. And I like tea," he said, walking around the kitchen gathering more things to add to his concoction. He sat on the floor in front of the pot and opened the book once more. Reading over the words printed on the page, it said he needed a name first before he could read the spell aloud. He raised an eyebrow and thought for a moment.
He chuckled, pulling the hood to his cloak around his head. Holding the book in his left hand and pointing at the pot with his right he began to chant. His small voice boomed into the empty kitchen. He finished and waited.
"What 're ye doing in 'ere?" His older brother, Allistor walked in and over to the fridge. He glanced at the pot and shrugged his shoulders. "If mum catches you 'ith that, your arse will be sore fer a week." He smiled, knowing the chances of his little brother getting in trouble were good.
"Go away! I want to make Gilbert and Francis look like idiots!" He smiled. A small puff of purple smoke escape from the pot and then died out. He sighed, looking disappointed.
"Oy!" In charged the Irish twins, causing Arthur's eye to twitch. Ian and Riley stopped dead in their tracks as they watched their younger brother standing in his magic cloak. "Whatca ya doing?" They asked in unison.
"Making a friend!" Arthur huffed, and turned to the sound of Allistor laughing.
"You can't make friends!" He gripped his side from laughing hard"And you're eight! What do you know about magic, anyway?"
"I believe you can!" In walked a boy a bit younger then Arthur, Dylan.
"Shut it, you lot!" Ian growled at them.
The pot started to shake and rattle as the five boys slowly stepped away.
"The bugger's gonna blow!" Allistor yelled, pulling the others down to the ground.
A bright pink glow filled the kitchen and then went out as quickly as it had came. The boys looked at each other, waiting for something else to happen.
Arthur gasped and bit his bottom lip, "Mum is going to kill me!"
The sliver stock pot laid in two pieces on either side of the kitchen. Arthur scrambled to his feet, grabbing at the pieces that would surely cause his death when his mother found out.
"I think you might have a bit more of problem then the pot Artie?" Riley's finger shook as his pointed at the girl that sat before them. All their mouths hung agape at the sight of this lovely girl that looked wide eyed at them. She grabbed a dish rag off the counter, trying to cover herself, best she could.
"Who are you?" She finally asked, as the five stood, disbelieving what was in front of them.
"Who are we?" Ian asked, "I think the better question is; who are you?"
"I'm (f/n)," she pointed at Arthur, "he made me."
"Holy flying mint bunnies!" Arthur jumped in the air, laughing in Allistor's face. "I did it! I did it! I bloody did it!"
But Allistor, not to be out done by his younger brother, would soon deflate the ego of Arthur, "Christmas is going to be even better this year brothers!" Allistor smirked at Arthur.
"Why?" The Irish twins asked.
"Mum is going to kill Arthur... more gifts for us!"
"She always wanted a girl," Dylan smiled at Arthur, "maybe she won't kill you to bad."
"Not to be rude," the (h/c) girl finally spoke, "but I would like some clothes."
Without words, because none where needed at that moment, the boys dashed up the stairs. Finding anything that looked suitable for the young lady, they bought it down stairs and placed it at her feet.
"Could you let me dress?" She asked, still hiding herself from their view.
"Yup," Ian chuckled and nudged Riley, "he's dead!"