Lemon Grass and Sleep

BACK IN BLACK

"Did Malfoy see you two leaving?" Hermione asked hushedly once we were all in the train compartment.

"Yes," Glinda groaned, slumping into her seat, "Only to give me shit for not sitting in the prefect compartment again. You'd think he'd catch the hint I don't want to be associated with him."

"Sounds like he's got a bit of a crush if you ask me," Hermione commented haughtily, eliciting a soft giggle from Glinda.

"I'd keel over and die if I realized Malfoy had a crush on me," I shivered in disgust, "The sheer amount of hair gel on the lad could drown a small child."

"His hairline's receding already, too," Glinda sneered, "What a rat."

"What a rat," I agreed, crossing my arms and leaning back in my seat.

"So, what all did the twins tell you?" Hermione asked once the compartment door was completely shut.

"Well, they left us a note saying something had happened to their dad."

"...And?" Hermione tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

"And that's it," I nervously fidgeted under her gaze. Hermione's eyes sort of reminded me of a crow, or a raven. Like she knew exactly what I was thinking, or something like that.

"Ugh," Hermione rolled her eyes, "Men."

"Tell me about it," Glinda grumbled. I had no idea what they meant, so I just sat there silently.

"Okay, so," Hermione took a deep breath before she launched into her explanation. "Mr. Weasley was bitten by a snake while he was on lookout duty in the Ministry, it's not too serious, but serious enough for a visit to St. Mungo's. Everyone has met up at Grimmauld Place for the holiday because they think bringing Harry to the Burrow might not be too safe, also I think Sirius is lonely."

"Well he's all alone in that big old house," I mumbled, "I'd be lonely too."

"Don't lie, you would love that," Glinda retorted.

"You're right," I sighed, "I would."

"Quick question," Glinda leaned forward, her hands loosely resting on her knees, "What does Malfoy have to do with any of this? Why does he keep popping up so often?"

"He's a sniveling little ferret," Hermione complained, "And he hates Harry's guts--that's obvious enough. But his dad apparently is a Death Eater so...he's the enemy."

"A Death Eater?" I gasped, "Like, from the old war?"

"Precisely," Hermione clarified, "And we think Malfoy might be up to something, especially when you consider the fact that Umbridge seems to have a soft spot for him."

"In what way?" Glinda muttered, seeming a bit bitter over something.

"Well, Draco's never been given a detention," Hermione held up a finger, "Despite the fact he's always in a group of three or more. And, since he's a Prefect, he's handing out detentions left and right that Umbridge always honors. He also keeps talking about Dumbledore leaving Hogwarts, we have no idea what that's about."

"Dumbledore would never leave Hogwarts," Glinda scoffed, "Not unless someone put him in an early grave."

"That's what I think," Hermione crossed her arms, "Dumbledore seems pretty untouchable, not even Umbridge has been able to send him away."

"Don't jinx it now," Glinda knocked softly on the wood of her seat. "If he goes somewhere, it's probably going to be Azkaban with how the Ministry is acting."

"Mm," Hermione hummed dejectedly, leaning against the back of her seat.

"You know, how does one get to 12 Grimmauld Place?"