Lemon Grass and Sleep

AN UNEXPECTED LOSS

'WEASLEY'S WIZARD WHEEZES' read a gaudy sign hung over the door Fred had let me into a fair amount of times by now, the windows aglow with warmth and tricks to invite many a curious mind in. Students were dotted around the shop, inspecting merchandise and trying out free samples of assorted candies.

"Thanks, Verity," George called out behind us as we stepped inside. I glanced over to see a younger girl with blonde hair wave from the register, she seemed busy enough ringing people up.

"Who's that?" Glinda asked sharply, clearing her throat.

"Just some girl we got to do the register," Fred brushed off, "That's not really our type of thing, you know?"

"Business must be going really well if you can hire help," I remarked, feeling a little special as we passed by some customers to step into the 'EMPLOYEE ONLY' area.

"Yes, swimmingly. In fact-" Fred was cut off by an utterly shocked gasp from Glinda, whose eyes hungrily devoured the sight in front of her.

It'd slipped my mind that she'd never been upstairs, we'd only met in the shop part during our first visit after the twins had left. Even then, the shop had barely been opened, it had still slightly overrun with boxes of good and imported tricks.

"You have a living room?" She excitedly hopped over to inspect every single object in the room, "And a kitchen?"

"Well, yeah," George responded slowly, "We live here."

"I expected some tiny bedroom with a mess everywhere," Glinda plopped down on the couch, peeling off her coat and boots.

"We're not animals," Fred replied sarcastically.

"Yes, but you are boys," she replied, unconvinced. "Am I allowed to see the bedroom? I'm actually very impressed with your decorating skills."

"Um," George tilted his head, as if trying to remember if there was anything embarrassing left out, "I suppose you can see mine. I can't imagine there's anything of interest in there, though."

"Open up, then," she pranced over to meet George at the purple door, peeking her head in as soon as it was open.

I laughed quietly as she began judging everything in the room, gushing over the drapery and bedspread.

"Did your mother help you with this?"

"No," he replied, cheeks tinging pink, "Do you think I have no style at all?"

"Well," she replied, seeming to think otherwise.

Fred nudged my arm, catching my attention. He gingerly took my coat and left it on the coatrack in the kitchen.

"How have you been?" He asked quietly, dragging me by the wrist to the living area.

"Oh, fine," I replied tightly, "Same as usual, you know?"

"Your usual is typically less than okay," Fred observed, biting his lip a bit.

"I'm alright, really," I assured, lacing our fingers together.

"Tom, have you seen this man's bedroom?" Glinda popped her head past the door frame. "It's simply exquisite."

"No," I replied, confused on why she was so enthusiastic about the flat. "I'm sure it's very nice."

"It really is decorated rather well in here," she said, strutting across the living area, "Fred, you mind?"

"Um," He rolled his eyes around, like he, too, was trying to remember if it was presentable. "I don't think so, no."