Lemon Grass and Sleep

A CLOSE ENCOUNTER

"It's Draco," Glinda deadpanned, "It's so obviously Draco, how could it be anyone else?"

"Well, now what makes you say that?"

"Has Thomas not told you?" Glinda scoffed, looking over at me. Judging by her reaction, I must've suddenly looked like I shat my pants. "Oh."

"Told me what?" Fred bit out.

"Um," I nervously replied, "Well."

"Has he been saying stuff to you? Thomas, I told you to let me know if that happened," Fred seemed a little agitated, which made anxiety crawl up my back and send chills down my spine.

"I didn't want to be a bother," I mumbled, shrinking in on myself.

"It's not like he actually does anything," Glinda stuck up for me, "Draco's a little bitch, it's not like he'd do anything to him."

"Except now he might have," George countered, "Even you immediately jumped to the conclusion he was behind this."

Glinda's expression soured, and she crossed her arms irritably. "Even then, he didn't do anything physically. He's a slimy little brat, of course he'd resort to doing something like this. I bet he wanted to catch you two all over each other in a hallway or something in order to give you detention or something."

"This is a lot of effort to go through to give us detention."

"Do you know how much of a power trip that kid has going on?" Glinda scoffed, "He probably thinks he borderline runs this place. In fact, he nearly does."

"Don't remind me," Fred grumbled.

"My roommates probably think I'm dead," I solemnly said, "Ernie might've already reported me missing."

"You know," Glinda murmured, "I think I remember Parvati mentioning she got some chocolates that were spiked with love potion, just the other day."

"How could she tell?"

"She said the packaging was all messed up, and the note accompanying them didn't have a signature. I think she ended up melting them down to test for it."

"I don't understand, what's the point?" George wondered aloud. "Like Fred said, this seems like a lot to go through just to hand out some detentions."

"What if Umbridge was trying to get you two expelled?"

"Well, I doubt some snogging could get us expelled," Fred scoffed, a rude laugh escaping him, "She'd have to go through Dumbledore."

"It's becoming more and more likely," Glinda muttered, "She's pushing really hard to get him sent away. Any small slip up with have him on the way to Azkaban faster than you can say-"

"Shit," I whispered.

My ears were ringing, and my heartbeat thudded softly in my ears as I looked nervously to Fred. His face was hardened with- with what? Determination? Anger? A house elf had run in just moments before, anxiously stumbling over his words that he rushed out to tell Harry that Umbridge was on her way--she knew where we were.

We all were looking at Harry, our leader, the only person who knew what to do. He turned to us with a stony look on his face.

"Scatter!"

We burst out of the Room of Requirement, a thousand footsteps echoing down the hall. I couldn't even think, a million thoughts raced through my head so fast I couldn't tell what any of them were saying--the only thing blasting through my my mind loudly was *run. You have to run*.

I briefly heard Harry call out, and something hit the floor, but I knew that if I turned around I'd be caught as well. Every bone in my body, every fiber of my being forced me to keep going. Against my screaming lungs and aching legs, I kept my eyes on Fred and George, following them to Merlin knows where.

"Fuck," I heard Glinda curse beside me, a spark lighting from the end of her wand as she sent ill will toward those behind us. We rounded a corner so hard I felt both feet leave the floor for mere seconds, my hands brushing against the stony floor as I shoved myself forward to keep going.

"Down," George shoved us into a corridor, the floor going lower and lower until I swear it must've been pitch black around us. The light from the hallway we'd just turned down was snuffed out quickly, and I could hear furious footsteps and yells from just beyond the walls.

Fred's fingers brushed against mine before holding my hand gingerly, running soft circles around my palm. I swallowed thickly, feeling like I couldn't get enough air into my burning lungs. We all panted quietly in the darkness, standing completely still until there was nothing but silence outside whatever hidey-hole the twins had hid us in.

My hands stung, cuts from the floor fresh in my skin. I could feel dirt and rock embedded in them, and blood rushing down my arm to heal my wounds.

"I'll check," George whispered lowly, his words breathy and raspy--barely heard over the deafening silence.

We stayed facing away from the opening, and brief white light filtered in a single ray from the outside. Anxiety continued to bubble up inside me as George was completely silent, not giving an all clear for several minutes that felt like hours.

"Alright," he finally announced, voice still low but back to normal.

We shuffled around for a moment, struggling to find footholds in the dim room. Fred's hand never left mine until we were back in a somewhat normal looking hallway, although it was covered in dust and discarded items.

"Umbridge knows about the Room of Requirement," Glinda stated quietly, her voice sounding small in the large corridor where we stood.

"She knows about every inch of this castle," Fred spat out, jaw clenching.

"She got Harry."

"Shit," George balled up his fists by his side, and we all angrily stared at the ground as if it were the culprit.

"What do we do?" I asked, "Where are we supposed to go? I'm sure any of those kids she had with her will recognize us."

"They can't do anything to us," Fred shook his head, "There's no evidence aside from their word alone."

"That might be enough," Glinda bit her lip, anxiously picking at her nails.

"It's not," George said firmly.

We meandered around some hallways for a while, eagerly checking around corners to make sure the coast was clear. None of us could figure out where to go, the library and Great Hall were too popular for us to sit and chat--there would without doubt be someone there on the lookout for three redheads and a blonde.

"Well," Fred offered uneasily, "There's always the second floor girls' restroom."

"No," Glinda bit out, "Absolutely not. I refuse to be anywhere near that milksop."

"You can't blame her for being gloomy," I retorted, "She's dead."

"If I died fifty years ago, I'd have gotten over it by now."

"I think I'd be a little torn up about it," Fred joked, shooting a quick glance over at me.

"Fine, fine," Glinda breathed out irritably, waving her hands dismissively.