Lemon Grass and Sleep

A DAY IN THE LIFE

"Oh, Merlin," I groaned, rolling over and struggling to check the time on the gently ticking clock I kept on my bedside. What on earth had I been doing last night? My entire body ached like I'd taken a lap around the castle, or something.

My hand blindly reached for my wand in the darkness of the room, palm hitting the bare wood of my nightstand fruitlessly. I let out a frustrated sigh at the fact I was going to have to sit up and actually be awake to figure out what time it was, and I finally opened my eyes to an unfamiliar sight.

The desk in Fred's bedroom met my eyes, and a cuckoo clock reading one in the afternoon gently danced on the wall. Ah, that's right. I don't live at Hogwarts anymore, I'm a graduate now. Sitting in our bed, I looked around the room slowly, as if taking it all in for the first time.

Fred's back faced me, his shoulders moving up and down soundlessly underneath the bedcover. My chest was filled with something I couldn't really identify, but it was good--this felt good. I knew that much, at least. For once, it was completely silent in the flat. No radio playing softly from the living room, so muffled talking through the thin walls. Just the wind chimes outside playing softly through the glass.

I stepped out of the bed gingerly, careful not to wake Fred, and softly padded into the main area. The radio needed to come on, and I needed some breakfast. With the radio turned on, I began raiding the kitchen for genuinely anything to eat.

"What the fuck?" I heard groaned from the living room, stomach dropping immediately when I saw a lump on the couch move.

"Oh, Glinda?" I asked carefully, seeing a familiar head of blonde hair pop out of the plush blanket cocoon.

"Yes, good morning," she drawled sarcastically, brushing her hair out of her face roughly.

"Have a good sleep?"

"No," she deadpanned, dragging herself out of bed and stumbling into the restroom.

"Well, alright then," I said quietly to myself, pulling out some tea bags and a cup. Fred only stepped out of his- our bedroom when I put the kettle on, looking like hell.

"Morning," he mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. "Tea?"

"Yes, brewing," I smiled, still a bit in shock that this was the first time I'd seen Glinda wake up in the several years I'd known her.

"Ugh," he groaned, "I feel like shit, I drank too much last night."

"You didn't seem too drunk," I giggled as he rested his forehead against my shoulder, hands bracing on the counter behind me.

"Yeah, well it's biting me now."

"Oh, poor baby," I snickered.

"Tea?" George popped his head out of his bedroom, squinting against the morning light filtering into the room.

"Yep," I responded, amusement filling me at the similarity in Fred and George's bedheads.

"Did Glinda have a good sleep on the couch?" George yawned, walking over and throwing himself down on one of the dining chairs.

"Apparently not," I sighed, gesturing at the bathroom.

"Shame," he said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

Glinda burst out of the bathroom with sopping wet hair and one of the twin's robe wrapped around her--borderline swamping her in extra fabric. She stomped over to where George had sat down on her makeshift bed and snatched something out of her suitcase before angrily making her way back into the bathroom.

"Not a morning person?" George commented sheepishly.

"I wouldn't know," I said, voice being covered up by the shrill whistle of the kettle going off beside me. I gently pushed Fred off me to get the kettle while he grabbed some more mugs, watching silently as I poured the water.