Lemon Grass and Sleep

GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE

Cold, cold, cold. It felt like everywhere we went it was freezing cold. Hogsmeade was still covered in some leftover holiday decorations, most likely because they were covered in feet of snow that kept falling despite laying siege to every surface it could already.

"Hurry up," Glinda whined, stomping her feet a little faster to encourage us to pick up our pace.

"Yes, your majesty," George retorted sarcastically,

Glinda let out a frustrated huff of air through her nose that billowed out in a cloud in the cold air as we indulged her request, picking up the pace. The snow crunched under our boots along the stone path, the sound scratching my brain in a good way. I was sure there was a mess of snowflakes tangled in my hair as I felt the melted bits drip onto my face every now and then.

The Three Broomsticks welcomed us as much as it had any other time, with a blast of warm air that stayed cooped up inside the building like it was hiding from the winter weather. Other students were also scattered around, their scarves giving them away quite easily.

"So, what sort of applications are you two looking into," Fred asked, sliding into the circular booth we tended to look for.

"I'm going to be an Auror," Glinda said proudly, leaning onto the table with a smile.

"Oh, an Auror?" George replied, shocked, "How come you've never said anything?"

"Well, it makes sense," Glinda tapped the table lightly, "I enjoy being a prefect, and Aurors are sort of like the prefects of the real world..."

"I don't know if that's how I'd look at it," I mumbled, eyebrows furrowing.

"I want to keep everyone safe," she clarified, "Actively. Like, I want to do things myself."

"Did Flitwick say anything about it during your career meeting?"

"Only the usual, if I remember right," she tilted her head to the side, thinking all the way back to fifth year. "Just the O.W.L.s speech, something about requiring certain N.E.W.T.s--I'm not so worried about it, though."

"Yeah, they'd have to be stupid to turn you down," George sighed, leaning back in his seat.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Glinda retorted sourly.

"Oh just-" He began to apologize, before a sneer appeared on his face, "I mean that you'd run the Ministry into the ground overnight for turning you away."

"Like hell I would! I'd expect that from you, not me," she bickered back.

"What did you want to apply for?" Fred asked quietly as the two continued on in the background.

"Oh, I dunno," I replied sheepishly. "I have't really thought about it."

"Well, perhaps something with herbology? I know there's always research to be done."

"Mm, perhaps," I smiled nervously, "We'll see."

"I think you'll do amazing at anything you want," he cheekily responded, leaning his elbows onto the table, "So don't stress too much."

"You think of me much too highly," I sputtered, unsure of how to react to such high praise.

"Not highly, just often," he teased.

I rolled my eyes, not believing a word he said. "How are things going with your shop?"

"Our shop!" George corrected across the table, "We both own it, I exist too."

"Trust me, we're well aware," Glinda groaned.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, you know," she responded, a glimmer of cruelty in her eye.