Lemon Grass and Sleep

MYSTERY OF THE ROOM

The bell jingled over the front door as George closed it, key turning to lock it as soon as it was shut tightly. I could hear the soft incantation of the anti-alohomora cast before he appeared in the doorway to the storeroom.

"Have you restocked everything?" He asked, his eyes mostly looking at Glinda.

"Finishing up," Glinda responded, piling more disappearing powder into my arms, "We'll be done soon."

"I'm going to go ahead and go up, then, just let me know when you finish so I can do inventory."

I watched him walk up the spiral stairs, briefly wondering how Fred and George held themselves back from simply apparating everywhere. Glinda smacked me in the face with powder packaging a couple times, her giggles increasing every time she did it.

"Would you stop that," I bit out, feeling plastic come into contact with my cheek again. It wasn't like I could fight back, my arms were still full of powders.

"What? It's on accident," she bit her lip, turning away as she styled them on the shelves.

I let out a huff of air, zoning out on one of the turned off decorations as it stood--balancing on the wires that ran all throughout the shop. I was only brought back by yet another bag smacking across my nose, this time my arms instinctually dropping everything.

"Alright, you little shit," I couldn't help but let a grin grow over my face as Glinda put up her arm defensively, laughter spilling from her as she tried to fight me off with a bag in her hand.

"Noo!" She called out, stumbling over the fallen bags and stepping away from me.

"Is someone getting murdered down there?" I heard Fred call faintly.

"Yes!"

"Carry on," Fred replied, voice growing more muffled as the door shut. Glinda rolled her eyes, leaning down to begin picking up the bags I'd dropped. Of course I knelt down to help her, I was the one who dropped them after all, but a thought popped into my head.

"Have you gotten a letter from Hermione?"

"No," Glinda shook her head, looking worried, "I haven't in a few weeks, now. I hope she's okay."

"Surely she's okay," I nodded, "If something had gone wrong, we'd hear about it."

"Would we?"

"I can hardly imagine something more interesting to write about," I shrugged, "Plus, I don't think there's anyone else they could ask for help without getting in some sort of trouble."

"Right, anytime they tell an adult something, it seems like they get scolded," Glinda mumbled, "It's not their fault Harry's a trouble magnet."

"Do you think Hermione will write soon, even if something doesn't happen?"

"I hope so," Glinda bit her lip softly, putting the last of the plastic packages onto the shelves neatly.

It wasn't like there was something crazy going down, otherwise we would've been called in as grunts by now. The Order had a funny way of needing us when they remembered Voldemort's wands outnumbered their own, and then conveniently forgetting we were capable wizards right after. At least Glinda had gained their favor, since she'd managed to become a junior Auror under Shacklebolt.

"Do you think it has something to do with the Half Blood Prince?" Glinda quietly asked as we walked toward the spiral staircase, "Perhaps they found out who it is, maybe it's Draco?"

"Draco's not a half blood," I shook my head, "Narcissa and Lucius are both pure bloods."

"What if they're not his parents? He could be illegitimate."