Lemon Grass and Sleep

SNEAKY SNEAKY WE ARE

"Would you stop thinking so hard? I swear I can hear the gears turning from all the way over here," Glinda groaned, leaning her head onto the back of the couch and staring at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," I sighed, "I'm just worried."

"Yeah, well welcome to the club," she rolled her eyes.

I let out a quiet huff of air, looking into the fire for answers. Absent mindedly, I let my fingertips run over the bumpy back of my hand, feeling the indentions of the words 'I will follow rules'.

Holiday would start tomorrow, leaving Glinda and I nearly alone in the castle as everyone left to go home for a week. We'd both sent owls to the Burrow asking what was going on, even just wanting to know if everyone was okay--but we'd yet to receive an answer.

"It's been days," I mumbled, "Surely they'd have sent an owl back by now."

"I'm not so sure, times are odd now."

"I guess you've got a point."

"Of course I do."

The last day before break is typically the slowest, with professors not wanting to broach any new topics or lessons due to the fact students would be going home. Everyone would be too busy forgetting everything they've learned to retain new information.

"Do you think Hermione would know anything?" Glinda mumbled, "Then again, we did just ask her the other day."

"Yeah, I don't think so. No harm in asking, though. It's not like she's too popular to talk to us."

"Won't she be leaving tonight, though?"

We were silent for a moment as what Glinda had just said set in. The Leaving Feast, that would be our last chance to have any sort of semblance of what was going on. After that, we'd be left completely in the dark.

"We have to be at that table tonight."

"Agreed."

"My hand hurts," I said randomly.

"Oh, suck it up," Glinda fussed, "You're fine."

"How did Fred and George manage this? All semester, too."

"Do you even know who you're talking about? Those two could get through anything if they were spiteful enough."

I briefly remembered the digging pain of magic tearing itself across my skin, the furious, warm tears that flooded down my cheeks as I fought the urge to flail on the ground like a newborn baby.

Now, I don't like to think I'm an anxious person. Well, I am--but I don't like to think about it. But I had never felt such gut wrenching panic as when Glinda and I walked into the Leaving Feast and not seeing Hermione anywhere.

"What are we going to do?" Glinda asked quietly, eyes darting back and forth across the Great Hall.

"We go to Gryffindor tower," I let out a nervous breath, "And we hope for our sake she's still here."

I had never walked so fast in my life. Wind brushed by my ears and I rounded a corner on the Grand Staircase so hard that both my feet left the ground for at least a few seconds before I stumbled all the way up the stairs. Glinda's hair caught wind and must've not even thought about touching her back the entire way there, and the determination on her face made me want to keep up with her quick pace.

The Fat Lady seemed less than impressed as we stood in front of her silently, panting like dogs in the summer sun.

"Can I help you?" She asked snobbishly.