Lemon Grass and Sleep

THE POISONING OF RON WEASLEY

I looked down at the piece of paper in hand, reading over the words once again to make sure I wasn't making a mistake. Halla and Jeremy Gallagher, 6572 Mary Lane. Even after forgetting about it for a week or two, I couldn't bring myself to open it.

"Hey, tea's on the stove," Fred called softly, and I looked up to see him leaning against the door frame, "I'm going downstairs, alright?"

"Alright," I smiled, thumb running over the paper again one more time as I watched him leave my line of sight.

Nobody was ever hurt by some piece of paper, right? That's what I tried to convince myself of, but what if this was reaching out to let me know one of them had died or something?

"Do you want me to?" Glinda entered our bedroom like it was her own, sitting beside me on the bed.

"Yeah," I whispered, "Please."

I handed the envelope to her carefully, and she treated it like delicate china. There wasn't a moment of tearing or ripping, Glinda took her time to open it in a safe, preserved way. She unfolded the paper soundlessly, extending it in my direction.

"Read it," I mumbled, looking down at the floor.

"Hello, Tom," Glinda began reading carefully, "I hope this letter finds you well and good. You've probably forgotten all about that little brunette girl that was always trying to fatten you up, but I'm still here."

I couldn't help but let out a little chuckle under my breath, even hearing the smile in Glinda's voice as she read it aloud.

"As you could probably tell from the return address, I stole Jeremy's last name and half of his paycheck, score! Mm, mm....I'm reaching out to ask if you'd like to meet up after the holidays. Just you, me, Jeremy, and John. We've sent him a letter as well, and will be waiting on your response. Love, Halla."

A letter from Halla, asking to catch up. I sat with my elbows leaning on my knees, chin in hand. That hadn't been what I expected at all, in fact, in fact I'd go so far as to say it was a pleasant surprise.

"This is splendid, Thomas," Glinda mumbled, skimming the letter again, "You can show off your rich husband!"

"Glinda," I rolled my eyes.

"You can brag about all your near-death experiences, because you're obviously collecting them now-"

"Hell," I groaned, unable to keep the smile off my face.

"I mean, I'm just saying!"

I took the letter from her hands, leaving it and the envelope on my nightstand. There was no need to deal with that, yet, I better sleep on it.

"Care for tea?" Glinda sighed, standing up. She walked into the common area without waiting for my answer, and I could hear the clanging of metal on metal.

With one last look at the letter, I stood to go meet her, seeing her pouring two cups despite the fact she hadn't waited for my answer at all. Two sugar cubes and a short pour of milk, just the way I preferred.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and I was even able to forget about the letter for a little while. Glinda and I read some books, Fred and George closed up shop in the evening, it was rather nice. I even made a very delectable pot of pasta, despite the fact I'm a disaster in the kitchen. Nothing could've really given away that things were picking up again.

"What, what?" I groggily exclaimed, "What's happening?"

"Get up, get dressed," Fred said quickly, "Ron's been poisoned."

"I beg your fucking pardon?" I gritted out, rubbing my eyes forcefully before swinging my legs over the side of the bed. Fred tossed two pieces of clothing at me, a sweater and some trousers, before replying.

"I said what I said, man, hurry up."

"Of all the things our freshly prefect brother has to do," George complained from the common area, "He's got himself poisoned."

"You mean like, food poisoning?" I asked dumbly, pulling the sweater over my shirt and reaching down to pull my pajama pants off. Fred stood in the doorway, almost protectively, and I couldn't help but sleepily roll my eyes.

"No, we mean poison poison," Fred clarified, "All mum's owl said was he was poisoned, and in the infirmary, that's all we've got."

"Ugh," I groaned, pulling on my trousers and slipping my shoes on. Everyone else was already mostly ready, with Glinda hardly bothering to put her hair up into a pony tail.

With two strong grips, the twins apparated us in the corridor of Hogwarts, right outside the infirmary. I didn't even bother to ask how they were able to apparate so accurately, knowing they were intimately aware of every nook and cranny in this castle.

It felt a little odd, walking into the place I used to work in every day. And seeing the familiar head of gray hair tucked into a matron's cap put an immediate smile on my face.

"Madam Pomfrey," I called out softly, knowing it was late.

"Oh, Thomas," she replied back excitedly, walking over quickly and pulling me up into a hug, "I trust St. Mungo's is treating you well?"

"Yes, Dr. Daffodil oversees me in the Magical Bugs ward."

"That's lovely, I knew you could do it," she nodded firmly, "But, I suppose you've dragged these Weasley boys back to see their brother."

"Unfortunately," we followed her as she walked briskly to a bed completely hidden from view by curtains.

Ron and Harry sat awkwardly in the space, with Harry standing in front of a chair and Ron's bum barely inches off the bed itself. Madam Pomfrey left us with a firm nod, probably to go attend to other students in the mean time.

"I hope you know Mum's gonna kill you, on account you lived," George shrugged.

"Yeah, living through a poison attempt? Bad move," Fred shook his head.

"It's not my fault, blame him," Ron gestured rudely at Harry, "He's the one who saved my life."

Harry sat down sourly, face screwed up with annoyance. "I'll make sure to let you choke on your own vomit next time."

"Who poisoned him?" Glinda said, her voice low and threatening. Among the twins making light of the situation, I hadn't noticed her arms being crossed and her expression looking stony.

"Well, we can't say for sure-" Harry began.

"I know you have a hunch," Glinda narrowed her eyes at him, "Is it Draco?"

Harry didn't have to respond, his immediate nervous reaction and glancing around to make sure nobody in the vicinity was enough for Glinda to step outside the curtains.

"Does she have something going on with him?" Ron asked quietly.

"What? No," George sputtered, "Not at all. What?"

"Calm down, Romeo," Fred muttered. "Now, not that this could be of any importance. But during our seventh year he went around spiking chocolates with love potion. Could've upgraded his stock."

"Well, apparently Slughorn was meant to give the wine to Dumbledore as a gift," Harry mumbled.

"You two were drinking wine, with a professor?" I blurted out.

"Uhm," Harry paused at that, pursing his lips.

"Let's leave that part out when Mum comes, yeah?" Fred snickered.