Lemon Grass and Sleep

A FIERY HEADED DISTRACTION

"Educational decree number twenty-fucking-eight," Glinda sourly announced, sprawled across the couch with her hair thrown over the arm rest. "Students are not allowed to act in an inappropriate way with romantic partners in a public setting."

"Is she pissed because nobody wants to fu-"

"Haha, anyways," I cut off nervously, not wanting to hear George finish that sentence. "How can they even enforce that? It seems like something rather subjective."

"Doesn't matter," Fred mumbled, "Any detention handed out by one of her favorite prefects, which are the annoying bitches enforcing this shit, is gonna get approved."

"Just in time for Valentine's too," George complained, "She always makes sure she's two steps ahead."

"She has to, or she'd be left in the dust with her stumpy little legs," Glinda muttered.

"I'm assuming you two have plans regardless?" George glanced between Fred and me with an unimpressed look.

"Well, of course," Fred pressed a hand to his chest with an arrogant look on his face, "I'm nothing if not a romantic."

"So you're nothing?" Glinda deadpanned.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Fred replied, unfazed.

I briefly thought about Fred's promise to take me to Hogsmeade this weekend, and wondered if that was what we were doing for Valentine's. I had no idea what he meant when he answered Goerge's question, we had no plans during the week itself--then again, Fred isn't exactly the type of person to plan things out extensively.

"Does that sound good, Thomas?" Glinda asked me with an expectant look on her face, and I was snapped out of my thoughts.

"Oh, hm? Yes, sounds good."

"Amazing, here," George placed a couple of chocolates in front of me. "This one here will make you throw up, and this one here will make you good as new."

I looked down to the brightly colored candies, before slowly glancing up at Fred and Glinda. I'd rather not describe the events that happened next, but I had puked enough to get my fill of *that* for the next couple decades, let's say.

"I didn't know someone so thin could have so much in them," Fred joked lightly, holding me close to his chest as he rubbed my back soothingly.

The second chocolate had not made me 'all better', it only served to stop the violent vomiting. Glinda had hastily vanished everything up, saying: "If I have to look at this for one more second, I'm going to add to it myself."

Her and George had left in a hustle as she fussed at him for making me eat the chocolates, even though it had been her who took advantage of me not listening...

"I feel sick," I complained quietly.

"I know," Fred whispered, "You'll feel better in no time."

"How?" I asked pitifully, looking up at him waiting for the magical cure.

"I can think of a few ways," he replied, hand on my hip gripping tightly.

"Oh," I whispered, feeling a humiliation induced blush warm up my face instantly. "I don't know, my stomach feels all twisty."

"Well, that's why I said a few ways. Doesn't have to involve what you're thinking."

"I mean, but then nothing's done for you."

"Au contraire," he smoothly replied, standing and carrying me with him. I scrambled to cling onto him, eliciting a light laugh from him. "I'd never drop you."