Lemon Grass and Sleep

BUMP IN THE ROAD

"The match was a shocking success, I had thought Harry spiked Ron's pumpkin juice with felix felicis, but it was only placebo effect. Make sure to tell the twins we absolutely bodied Slytherin house."

Fred and George cheered like they were at the match itself, grabbing me and Glinda before yanking us around the room in a fit of laughter and hollers.

"Okay, okay," Glinda pulled herself free, still chuckling, as she picking the letter back up, "There's more."

We all sidled up in the living room again, looking at Glinda expectantly as her eyes skimmed the rest of the letter.

"Oh, I'll skip this part," Glinda said nervously, putting that page behind the others. She looked a little bothered, but I wasn't about to pry into girls' business. "Slughorn's party was a bore, I had to practically run away from my date. His name is McLaggen, I'd be shocked if Fred and George didn't know who that was."

Glinda briefly paused, looking up with a smile as Fred and George made displeased grunting noises--of course, they refused to further elaborate on their reaction.

"Draco was caught running around the halls past curfew, he claimed to be coming to the party with no invitation. Party crashing, doesn't that sound exactly like something he's do? I don't think so, he was definitely doing something suspicious. Snape was way too eager to bail him out, if you ask me. Afterward, Harry followed them, but didn't let us know what he overheard--if he heard anything at all."

"He sure does sound suspicious," George mumbled, "And if he's involved with Snape? That makes no sense, Snape's in the Order. How can he be working for the Dark Lord while working for the Order? And-"

"Why wouldn't we know if Draco was on our side?" Fred muttered.

"Precisely," George added, "Our parents would have told us."

"Would they?" I asked, unconvinced, "They don't seem to want to tell you two anything. When was the last time they gave us information?"

"Well, it's just nothing's happened," Fred replied defensively.

"Rubbish," Glinda burst out, "Your parents still treat us like babies, don't pretend we're in the Order or something."

"They see us as adults," George defended, "We're just busy."

"Mhm, okay," Glinda scoffed, going back to the letter. "I hope you have a happy holiday, but I won't be at the Burrow this year. Tell Ron he's- Oh, yeah, you guys don't care about this."

"Holiday already," Fred muttered, still seeming a little peeved about me and Glinda's remarks. "We'll need to pack soon, are we leaving the day after?"

"It's the twenty-second today," George glanced at the calendar, "We ought to leave tomorrow or the next day."

"Mum said Harry's gotten there a few days ago, we should meet them tomorrow."

"I'll need to pack now, then," Glinda said, taking her letter into George's room and closing the door.

Fred stood wordlessly and walked into our bedroom as well, and I could hear him getting his trunk out from under the bed. Awkwardly, I got up and followed in his footsteps, hearing the scraping of leather against wood.

He was avoiding my eyes, and my stomach dropped at the realization he was cross with me a bit. What had I done? I don't remember kicking him in my sleep or anything, I hadn't even hogged the covers last night.

Best to stay out of his way, I thought, then he'll cool down and let me know what's wrong.

We walked around our bedroom, slowly packing nonessentials like we were strangers, and I felt my chest tighten with inescapable sadness. It wasn't like I enjoyed Fred being mad at me, especially when he acted like this. I would almost prefer him to blow up and yell at me instead of this tip toeing around on egg shells.

"You know," I mumbled, bringing myself to break the silence, "I would call this the calmest year at Hogwarts since Harry got there, despite the whole Draco snooping around thing."

"I suppose," Fred responded quietly.

Back to the quiet.

As I ruffled through my closet, I came across my first Weasley jumper. It didn't fit anymore, and the knit was loose in a few areas, but it was one of the few things I enjoyed calling my own.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked quietly.

"Are you kidding me?" Fred bit out, still low enough that Glinda and George probably wouldn't be able to hear it, "You two basically called me and George children."

"What? When the hell did we do that?" I tried to stifle the defensiveness that immediately bubbled up inside of me, but it was hard when he was immediately so rude.

"You two said our parents don't bother telling us anything because we're babies," Fred echoed, face screwing up in irritation, "Am I supposed to, what--agree with you?"

"Do you truly believe your parents see us as adults?" I scoffed, "If your mother had her way, we'd still be completely in the dark. It's only thanks the Sirius that we know anything at all."

"That was when we'd barely been legally able to perform magic--they know we're adults now! We have our own shop, and it's run all by its self, and-"

"Fred," I cut him off, watching as his lips pursed in annoyance, "I know all of that, don't you know how proud I am of you? Has your mother said that even once?"

Fred's lips pressed together even more, his entire face growing tense and stony. He turned back down to his luggage, hiding his expression from me. I looked over the top of his head hesitantly, worried I'd gone over a line I hadn't known was there.

"I'm-"

"I know, okay," he said quietly, "I know she isn't proud of us, it's not like I'm stupid."

"Fred, I didn't mean it that way," I whispered.

"You did, and it's fine." From the tone of his voice I knew it wasn't, the rising and falling of his shoulders letting me know he was just barely keeping his anger in check.

"I'm sorry, I misspoke."

"I'm going for a walk."

I watched helplessly as he picked up his wand, and slid on his shoes. He didn't look at me before walking into the common area, the rustling of coats on the rack letting me know he'd at least thought to layer up before leaving. The last of him I heard that night was the bell at the front of the shop jingling cheerfully, unaware.