Lemon Grass and Sleep

PLUMMETING WITH A PORTKEY

Someone was tailing us, that was the only thought I could process as Glinda zipped around birds and zoomed through clouds. He hair kept hitting me in the face, but I could hardly find it in me to care about such a little detail as I stared ahead of her, watching to make sure we weren't about to go headfirst into a flock of birds.

"We need to lose them before we can continue," Glinda shouted over the wind clogging my senses.

"Dip into a cloud," I said right by her ear, "We can lose them that way."

We didn't have time to employ our plan before a green flash of light whizzed by my ear, sending us careening to the right a bit as Glinda recovered from the shock. I turned to see a mass of black smoke following us--two forms darting among the clouds. They blended into the night, only appearing when the moon shone directly on them.

"We've got company," I called, readying my wand and shooting a nonverbal reducto at them. They easily dodged my spell, and it felt like someone'd dumped cold water down my back as I realized we weren't going up against some lackeys who happened to be patrolling the skies.

"Shit!" I screamed as Glinda nose dived downward, the feeling of my butt slowly leaving the broom making my entire body still with pure terror. Was I about to plummet to my death while trying to escape Voldemort? I can't imagine that'd be a good story to tell to the kids.

Oh, how did Uncle Tommy die again? Fell to his death while dressed up as Harry Potter. How neat!

"Thomas," Glinda's shriek sent chills down my spine, her hands flailing around to grab onto my clothes as we tumbled forward. The broom entirely ditched us, and I looked up to see some poor soul run straight into it and begin falling just as we were.

"Portkey," I stuttered quietly, barely hearing myself over the wind. "Portkey, get the portkey!"

Glinda took a brief moment to register my words before fighting the wind ferociously to get into her bag. Her hand outstretched toward me, just close enough for our fingers to barely intertwine together, before her hand snatched up the mug.

The wind continued, and for a moment I was certain the port key failed and we were definitely about to ruin some poor person's evening by splattering against the sidewalk in front of them. Glinda's hair whipped around my face as she clutched onto me desperately, her nails digging in through the thin clothes I'd been given.

My eyes opened to look at the dark sky, briefly realizing it looked entirely different as I felt my back smack into the ground harshly. The air was knocked out of me, but I was most definitely alive. Wheat stalks surrounded my vision as I continued to stare up, feeling Glinda's chest heaving against mine as we laid there for a moment.

"Shit," Glinda breathed out, "I just bought that broom."

I couldn't help but laugh, chuckles leaking out of us as we weakly laid there--adrenaline leaving us feeling wary and fatigued.

"We better get to the house," I quietly said, beginning to sit up despite Glinda showing no signs of wanting to let go, "I think we're rather late."

"At least we're alive," she sighed with relief, her grip finally loosening as we both stood up. "I hope Molly's made some good food, I need some after that."

"They're here!" I heard from the house, Fred standing on the porch with a less than chipper expression. "You're late," he sourly said as we got closer.

"Well, we got a bit caught up," Glinda replied, still panting a bit as she caught her breath, "Death eaters are no joke."

"Tell me something the both of you would be the only ones to know," he gave us an unimpressed look, his wand gripped tightly.

"George has a scar over his ass cheek where you stabbed him with a wand," Glinda immediately blurted out, face completely neutral.

"I once found you upside down in a toilet stall after you overdosed on-"

"Okay," Fred immediately cut me off, "That's enough, you guys are clear. Merlin, didn't mince words or anything..."

"Where's George?" Glinda asked, already looking around for her little boyfriend, "He got back okay, didn't he?"

"Um," Fred replied with a certain high pitched tone to his voice, "About that-"

"Are you trying to imply he didn't?" She said lightly, turning with a murderous look on her face.

"Well, Snape-"

"Fucking what?" Glinda bit out, "Where is he, where's George?"

"He's in the living room," Fred bit the inside of his cheek, watching from afar as Glinda stormed around the corner.

"He's alright, isn't he?" I asked quietly, moving to hug Fred and lean my head against his chest.

"He's fine," Fred rolled his eyes, "You should've heard the atrocious joke he made as soon as we got him laid down."

"What'd he say?" I mused, tilting my head up to look at him.

"Well, he got his ear snipped off, right? He said he's saintlike, cause he's holey--holy. Ugh, makes me cringe even saying it."

"His ear snipped off and he's holey?" I laughed, "Is it treatable? I could take a look."

"It's clean off," Fred shook his head, hands trembling a little against my back. "Mum's already working on getting it bandaged up, too."

"And are you okay?" I whispered, "How was your ride?"

"We were fine," Fred nodded, licking his lips nervously, "Dad got us here easy. It was a little tricky losing someone on our tail, but-"

"We were tailed too," I murmured, "Do you think we're that convincing?"

"I'm a pretty good actor," Fred mumbled.

Our touching reunion was interrupted by the thundering steps of the adults in the order, approaching the door all done up in the coats with brooms in hand.

"What's going on, now?" I asked, stepping away from Fred a bit. It was still a little embarrassing to be caught being intimate by his parents, even if it was just Arthur.

"We're off to go get Mad Eye," he replied, eyes avoiding mine.

"Mad Eye?" I echoed quietly, looking up at Fred briefly.

"He went down," Fred answered, looking a bit bothered, "They mean they're off to find his body for a proper burial."

"Oh," I couldn't help but feel stupid when that was the only thing I thought to say. They pushed past us gruffly, looking exhausted and dreary as they stepped into the night once more.

A jittery feeling filled my body as Fred led me to the kitchen, and I peered around the wall to see Glinda knelt by the couch and speaking softly to George. Fred was right, there was nothing left for me to do for him. Molly'd already put a stint in the wound and bandaged it up pretty well, he'll be alright despite losing his ear.

"Stop worrying about others for a second," Fred whispered, pushing a mug of tea into my cold hands.

"I think I'm allowed to worry about one of my closest friends losing his ear," I mumbled, taking a sip and relishing in the feeling of warmth blossoming in my chest.

"What about you, Thomas?"

My stomach dropped briefly at the realization of what he was asking, "What do you mean?"

"Are you okay?"