Lemon Grass and Sleep

THE GAME (I GUESS SO)

I sat there at the dining table, well really I was glued to Fred's lap unwillingly with his arm wrapped around me like a possessive seat belt. Yes, in case it wasn't implied, I did not want to sit on Fred's lap.

It was humiliating.

"Does your stomach feel better?" He asked.

"Mmhm," I murmured, taking another bite of my ham and cheese sandwich--trying to ignore how hot my head felt and how every so often Ron and Harry would snicker in the corner.

Nobody else was eating, and Fred had just made these sandwiches for us, but I feel like that only made it worse. Everyone else was in the little common area talking amongst themselves while we were sitting in the dimly lit kitchen.

"Hmm, that's good," Fred hummed before sighing contently, his thumb idly rubbed the inside of my thigh. I could tell he didn't mean to do anything by this, but that doesn't mean that he wasn't.

"I am still a bit tired though." The portkey had affected me more than I thought, I suppose. It sucked, nobody else seemed to have had a problem and here I was getting sick over a bit of apparating.

"Well, there's still a few hours before the match," he trailed off as we turned to see the other kids leaving to go talk to friends.

"We saw a couple others from school," they said, before leaving the tent.

"I think I ought to chaperone," George said, shooting Fred a look before leaving.

All that was left was Mr. Weasley, who had fallen asleep ages ago in one of the recliners, snoring softly. I had whiplash from how quickly the tent cleared out, and the silence was deafening as I swallowed a bite from my sandwich.

Even now that we're dating, George still finds ways to manipulate the situation, Glinda would be so proud.

"Isn't that convenient," Fred mumbled, hand sneaking further upwards.

"I don't quite know what you mean," I replied, taking the last bite of my sandwich and trying to avoid eye contact.

"You should probably have a bit of a lie down," he wrapped his other arm around my waist, "Since you're tired."

"Yes, that's the reason you're trying to get me into bed," I spoke exasperatedly.

"Best hurry then," he said, soft enough that I guessed I wasn't supposed to hear.

Fred stood up suddenly, taking me with him. My toes just barely brushed the ground, and my legs instinctually tried to find something to latch onto...which just so happened to be Fred Weasley himself.

"Ooh, bit eager there, aren't we? Not even in the bedroom yet," he purred, gripping around my thighs instead as they wrapped themselves around his waist.

"No, I-I just didn't want to-" He cut me off with a soft kiss, stepping up into the bedroom in one step. His hand left my thigh to shut the curtains behind him, and the room quickly fell dark.

I felt the mattress underneath me, and Fred gently pushed me to lay back on the bed--hovering over me as my legs stayed wrapped around him. Again, he stole a kiss and pulled back with a smile.

"Fred, I don't know about in the tent," I whispered, hearing loud shouts from outside.

"Oh, the tent is weird but a magic mystery room in Hogwarts is fine, hm?" Fred smiled, teasing me as he brushed his thumb over my cheek.

"That magic mystery room happens to have privacy," I deadpanned as Fred's hands dropped from my chest to my waist, fiddling with the button of my trousers.

"I think this is plenty of privacy," he mumbled, eyes focused on his hands as he tried to unbutton them in the dark.

"Of course you do," I sighed, watching with barely open eyes as Fred pulled off my pants and looked up at me for a silent confirmation.

Of course I gave it to him.

This wasn't the first time we'd taken an opportunity to quickly do it with our clothes on, but I never could quite get used to the sticky hot feeling that stayed with me afterwards. It would be weird if we changed, though, everyone would know what we did.

"That's embarrassing," I spoke, staring into Fred's eyes as he laid next to me.

"Well, I personally don't think so," he replied haughtily, "It let's everyone know that I'm pleasing my ma-"

"Stop that," I slapped my hand over his mouth, earning me a raised eyebrow. "Oh, ugh!"

I pulled away my hand and wiped it on the comforter, Fred only gave me a shit eating grin in return.

"Don't put your hand on my mouth unless you'd like a saliva sample," he shrugged.

"Sometimes I can't tell if you're sixteen or six," I muttered.

"Oh, I don't know about that."

I flinched against the feeling of his hand sneaking underneath the back of my shirt, running his fingertips up and down my spine.

"I think you can tell pretty easily," he teased, scooting forward to kiss me.

"You are so insufferable," my lips barely moved as I said the words.

"Oh good, you're all back," I heard Arthur say from outside in the tent.

"Yeah, did you know Seamus was here, Dad?" Ron spoke loudly, and I could hear him stumbling over something or other.

"No, I didn't. George, go get your brother."

"Hey you sinful bastards," I heard whispered from the curtain, "Get out here, it's-"

"It's time!" Arthur called out excitedly, and a bunch of shuffling could be heard outside.

Fred sat straight up, tumbling out of the bed and scrambling to grab all of his spiritwear. I laughed lightly as he cursed while digging through his luggage, and a few large items and some bottles came out.

"Here," a big green stripey hat was put in my hands, and a smudge of coldness was swiped across my face. "You're now an Irish fan."

"Brilliant," I said sarcastically.

Everyone except for Harry was decked out in green, sporting team colors and face paint. Harry himself had the Bulgarian colors, sticking out like a sore thumb in the gaggle of redheads as we made our way to the stadium.

"Whoa," I whispered, latching onto Fred's arm instinctually as we joined a large crowd entering.

"Pretty amazing, right?" Fred replied, smiling as he looked down at me.

"Well, look who it is," I heard Ron spit out, looking over a railing. Just below us, a bit further back into the line that was coming into the stadium, was the Malfoy family.

Ron and his friends glared over the railing at the unsuspecting blonds, moving on only when Arthur fussed at them to get moving.

Once we had finally made our way all the way to the box, I leaned over the railing to stare down at the tiny field. Soon, some of the best quidditch players in the world would be down there, fighting for their lives.

"Ooh, wow," Fred commented, looking through his cupped hands like they were binoculars, "Look at that view."

I wish I could comment on the game itself, but I had a right proper time being confused. At some point I gave up trying to understand the game and just copied Fred's cheers and boos, hoping I was playing the part well. I will say, there was a bit of a dance over the snitch at some point, and some poor lad went straight into the ground.

"I won," Fred mumbled beside me, a wide grin growing on his face as he turned to look at me, the score being read aloud in a booming voice.

"What?" I asked, even more confused.

"I've just won an insanely good bet," he laughed, leaning onto the railing and looking just like he'd gotten away with a crime.

"Merlin's beard," I muttered, sure that wouldn't go well.