Lemon Grass and Sleep

SUMMER'S LETTER

"Hogwarts day soon," George muttered, leafing through forms with a quill balanced between his index and middle finger. "We'll need to restock everything, definitely need some overdraft for the love potions."

"Fake wands, pastels, powder," Fred listed off a few more, "Tomorrow would be best to get them early."

Listening to them talk about business might be my favorite past time, just because it's so fascinating. Perhaps it's because I only understand half the words they say, but something about the way the phrases roll off their tongues sounded satisfying. Is that weird? Ooh, maybe.

"Harry and them will stop by?" I asked lightly, jumping a little when both their heads turned to face me.

"Probably," George sighed, "Hoping we can rip Ron off a little, just for kicks."

"He's had it too easy with us out of the house," Fred shook his head, "Need to remind him he's the youngest."

"Ginny's the youngest," I pointed out.

"Well, youngest boy," George stressed, "Ginny's the golden girl, can't mess with her or Mum'll have our heads."

"Merlin's beard and robe," Glinda groaned as she stomped into the flat, immediately making a B-line toward George's bedroom. Faintly, it sounded like she threw herself onto the bed face first.

"Good day at work?" Fred asked, eyes not straying from the catalogue of sweets in his lap. "Ooh, check this out."

"Mm," George hummed as Glinda replied with a screech from his bedroom, "Yeah, you think they'd be good?"

"Thomas, hear me out," Fred squared his shoulders, sliding into advertising mode, "You see a display with glittering stones that can make your hair sparkle--literally. Do you buy them?"

"Mm, do they have any side effects?"

"Only luscious locks of hair," he raised his eyebrows, spreading out his hands in a way that said 'What could go wrong?' I fought the urge to wordlessly reply: 'A lot.'

"Yeah, I'd probably buy them. Like glitter, right? Or what?"

"Sure, like glitter," he mumbled, "I'll get my quill."

An owl perched on our windowsill outside, its talons tapping the glass in a polite way. Glinda raced out of George's room, shoving him aside needlessly as she opened the window to collect an envelope from its claws.

"Oh, perfect," she whispered under her breath, "Guys, letter time."

"Go on," Fred called from the other room.

"Hello Glinda, hope you and the others are well," she began, taking a seat on the sofa beside George. "Hogwarts day will be this coming Monday, I'm hoping you will be at the twin's shop for us to see you! Oh, that's good, so they're definitely stopping by," she mumbled the last bit, eyes continuing to scan the letter for anything interesting to read out.

"Harry tells us that he'll be with Dumbledore doing some special lessons, and that the new potions teacher is named Slughorn. Apparently, he was a professor years ago that quit for some reason. Harry insists he's important to the plan, but Dumbledore hasn't explained why exactly.

Blah, blah, read that bit later...Oh, here we go. The Burrow is fine as well, aside from Fleur as usual--she's still so irritating to be around. I can't stand how the boys immediately fawn over her as soon as she breathes in their direction, as well. Be glad you live with the twins."

"Fleur's delightful," Fred smiled mischeviously, "Hermione's just mad she isn't as charming."

"Or you're too dumb to realize Fleur is a Veela," Glinda muttered under her breath. "Why didn't you guys tell us Bill and her were engaged? I had to find out from a sixteen year old girl you aren't even related to."