Lemon Grass and Sleep

A SMALL DETOUR INTO THE PAST

"Ah, Shacklebot, come in."

"Sorry, can't," we couldn't see the man from where we were sounding, but his voice sounded nervous. "I've come to drop this off."

"What's this?" Molly asked, taking a folder of paper.

"Report, for Dumbledore. I can't stay long."

Molly said a few hushed words, before closing the door quietly. She didn't bother coming to explain to us what we just saw, only rushing down a hallway to the left.

"Who is Shacklebot?" I mumbled, looking over to Fred.

"He works with Dad," he answered, "He's an Auror, I think."

"An Auror," I repeated, impressed.

"He'll probably be back for dinner sometime, he drops by often."

With our leader gone, we didn't really feel like continuing to clean. Slowly, we all went and sat on the furniture of the parlor we'd been cleaning this whole time. Only now it at least didn't smell like mothballs and dust. Instead it smelled like the oh so amazing fumes of doxycide.

"Do you want to try it out later, or should we wait?" George whispered to Fred.

"Try what out?" I butted in, not even phased.

"Well," Fred began, that little mischevious glint in his eye again. "We've got a chocolate box we've been working on."

"Skiving Snackboxes," George said. "A bunch of sweets to make you sick."

"Oh?" I said, losing my appetite quickly.

"Yeah, we grabbed some of the doxy to see if their poison would work good."

"Only one treat will make you ill, so you can get out of class," George continued.

"Sounds revolting," Harry mumbled.

"Well, the rest will make you feel better, that's the genius of it."

"So far they've worked out pretty alright-" Fred began, but I cut him off.

"You've been testing these on yourselves?" My voice sounded a bit tense.

"Who else are we gonna test it on?" George joked, but I didn't find it quite funny. "Can't start a joke shop with faulty goods."

"Oh, you're going to start it up, then?" Harry continued.

"Just don't tell Mum," Fred warned Harry, "We've got to keep it under wraps or she'll flip out."

Just then, the front door opened and Mundungus bumbled in with a comically large amount of cauldrons tucked under his arms.

"No, no, no!" Molly fussed as she hurried into the entryway, "We are not running a hideout for stolen goods!"

"Apologies, Ms. Weasley, but I ran into a business deal and-"

"Ugh," I turned to my left and felt my entire soul get startled as Kreacher stood only a few feet from me.

"Oh," I squeaked out, "Hello there."

"Nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my mistresses house," he mumbled under his breath, "Oh, my poor mistress. If she knew, if she only knew the scum they've let into her house."

I swallowed harshly as I realized what he was muttering, a cold sweat sticking to my back as I grew more and more uncomfortable.

"Sorry about him, Fred mumbled, "He's gone a bit off the deep end."

"Hi there, Kreacher," Hermione spoke politely, standing right in front of him

"...and there's a mudblood, standing there bold as brass. Oh, if my mistress were here..."