Lemon Grass and Sleep

A BUMPY RIDE

"Now, you can't just grab it like that," I swatted Fred's hand away from the mandrake. "Did you not take basic herbology classes?"

"I did, and grabbing it like that worked out fine," he retorted.

"Well, sure, it'll work, but really, you should do it like this." I gripped around the stems gently before slowly wiggling the mandrake out of the soil. Compared to Sprout's method of yanking the thing, mine made much less noise and bothered the plant less.

"Huh," Fred observed unhelpfully, watching as I slid it into the pot of soil that was prepared. I could barely hear him due to the earmuffs, but I got to see him wearing fluffy red ones, so I wasn't complaining.

"So," Fred brushed his hands over mine as I repotted it for him to practice, moving the soil around the mandrake as I did, "What do I do if it bites me?"

"Oh, it won't bite you," I laughed, "Unless you stick your finger right in its mouth or something stupid like that."

"I don't know, Ron was telling me about some snot-nosed kid who got bit in his class, and then another one even passed out."

"Passed out? Was he not wearing his ear muffs?" I asked, looking up at him as we finished repotting.

"Yeah! Apparently he still passed out anyways."

"What a weirdo," we shared a small laugh as I moved aside, gesturing for Fred to try again. "Go on."

"Yes, sir," he smirked, stepping up to the table and making my head spin. Did he know how flirty he was being? He had to, right?

I couldn't distinguish between his personality and actual flirting, though, because it felt like this was how he'd always been. My mind was preoccupied with this dilemma as I watched him pull the mandrake out gently, repotting it to the left smoothly and raking the soil over the plant.

Almost instinctually, I sidled up to him and helped pack the soil in, our hands overlapping and bumping into each other in the small pot. Once I had snapped out of my thoughtless trance, I looked up to find Fred shockingly close.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I did it without thinking..." I stammered quietly, not even sure if he heard me underneath the earmuffs.

"It's quite alright," he recovered smoothly, looking slightly less caught of guard than I did.

I found myself caught up in that same feeling of caution, like when you happen upon a doe in a forest and you don't want to scare her off. Just like when my chin had been rested on Fred's shoulder as he gave me a rushed piggy back, our heads were closer than I had ever thought they'd be, and his eyes up close were so...pretty.

They looked like fresh soil after rain had just cleared, with spots of yellow dotted in like flying snitches.

"Oh," I sputtered out almost silently when I realized I'd been staring for what was probably way too long to be considered heterosexual.

"I never realized your eyes were green," Fred said, like staring into your male friend's eyes for a moment too long was his casual Monday activity.

"Ah, well, blame that on the hair I guess," I awkwardly continued.

"It is pretty wild," he laughed, glancing over at my untamed curls. "It's nice to have another red head that I'm not related to, though."

"Likewise," I gave him a lopsided grin, brushing my hands together harshly to get the dirt off my mittens.

In silence, we slowly began putting the mandrakes back and cleaning up the greenhouse behind ourselves. As Fred bent down to slide the fertilizer under the table, I snatched his ear muffs off his head and laughed a bit at startling him.

"Keep laughing, Soot," he shook his head.

"I think I will," a bit of confidence that I didn't know I had leaked out, and I stuffed the muffs back in the cupboard hastily.

"You know, I was wondering," Fred stood and walked over to the cupboard where I gently shut the doors. "Why don't you spend the holiday with my family instead of staying here?"

"Oh, I don't know," I mumbled, looking off into the snow. A whole week spending time with just Fred and George? That sounded nice, but almost too good to be true.

"What's stopping you?" He leaned on the counter next to me, almost looming over my shoulder. His eyes were half-lidded as he looked down at me, and the intensity of his stare almost made me start to sweat.

"Well, I just always spend Christmas here...are you sure your family would even be able to handle me on such short notice?"

"We Weasleys handle everything on short notice," he smiled, "What's one more person in a house that's been full for years?"

"I suppose when you put it like that..." I smiled in return, nodding. "How will we get there, though?"

"I have my ways."

Fred neglected to tell me his 'ways' were George and a flying car.

"This was how you planned on getting home?" I looked over the car skeptically as Fred loaded my luggage and owl into the trunk.

"The most reliable form of transportation," he looked at George, who was lounging in the driver's seat. "Depending on who's driving, but who's paying attention?"

"A shame Glinda couldn't join us, where'd she go off to again?"

"Somewhere in Italy," I muttered, sliding into the back of the car as Fred took the passenger seat.

"You don't say?" Fred commented, locking the doors as George started the car up.

The car jerked us around a bit as it climbed into the air, and I regretted not snapping my seat belt on immediately as I slid from one end of the pale leather seat to the other.

"Bloody hell, Soot! Being thrown around like a bludger," Fred laughed pretty hard at my misfortune, tearing up a bit as he watched me futilely grasp around for a seatbelt.

After the car settled into the wind current a bit I was able to tie myself down using all three belts in the backseat, cracking Fred and George up again.

"I'm taking no chances," I panted, out of breath from yelling as I was tossed from one side to the other. I don't even want to mention how bad my sides hurt from hitting the doors.

"Understandable," George piped up in between breathy laughs.

The ride was a bit quieter after that, with George focusing on the road and Fred giving directions every so often.

"I do know how to get to my own house, thank you very much," he bit out playfully.

"Do you, now?" Fred countered. "Alright, good luck then."

I looked between the two of them as George slowly looked more confused as Fred looked more arrogant.

"Is it a left here?" George quietly mumbled.

"No," Fred responded with a shit-eating grin.

Grumbly mumblings came from George's direction as he followed Fred's implication, and after a little I saw a monstrous house peaking out over the tree line.

"That's it?" I asked, pulling myself toward the front seats to get a good look at it through the windshield.

The thing was massive and clearly held up by magical means, just the sight of it would kill a muggle architect via heart attack.

"Welcome to The Burrow, Soot," the two said in unison, like they'd practiced it in the mirror a couple times.

We landed a bit roughly, but George managed to do a swell parallel parking job alongside a fence. Like the gentlemen they were, the twins grabbed my luggage and led me to the front door.

Warm light poured from the windows and I could already smell a delectable dinner cooking. The snow that dusted the clearing around the house truly felt magical, and the spirit of Christmas warmed me to my bones.

Just then, a shrill screech shocked me out of my fairytale trance.

"George Weasley!"