The Internal Devices

Chapter 20

"Harry no! Don't you dare! Get away–" Hermione's shriek was cut off as Harry tackled her to the ground, laughing.

"I got her! I got her!" He screamed to the others. Then he whispered in her ear, "Sorry, 'Mione." She scowled at him and told him he didn't look very sorry. Harry smirked and tugged her to her feet, just as the four youngest Weasleys surrounded them. Two days after Christmas, the bored young adults had tried to come up with something to do and asked Harry and Hermione if there were any muggle games they could play. Because the two of them had only been in muggle school when they were young, the best they came up with was 'tag'. Ron and Ginny had especially loved the idea and modified the rules to include tackling. Before Hermione could protest how dangerous that was, Harry and George had excitedly agreed and they were off.

If Hermione had thought she hated flying, she abhorred running. Not only was she clumsy, but she was also much slower than the others. It was inevitable that she would lose a round, she just hadn't anticipated it being so painful. She rubbed her shoulder irritably but softened when she looked over at Harry's broad grin. She couldn't resist that smile–for years it was that smile that made her give in to any crazed sneakery or late-night rule-breaking. She tried to take a mental snapshot. Too often, his expression was creased in worry or pain. It was such a relief to see some of the old Harry back in his eyes. Before the next round of 'tag' began, she couldn't help but pull him into a suffocating hug.

"Oof!"

She squeezed even tighter. "I missed you, Harry."

After a second he wrapped an arm around her and patted her back lightly. "Missed you too, Hermione." Ron cleared his throat behind them, and Hermione released Harry awkwardly.

"Sorry guys! We can keep playing now." She looked up to see Ginny smirking at her, and Hermione sighed. It was strange that so much could change, so much could be lost, and she could still uncover a place inside her full of fondness and joy. The Burrow really was a magical place.

Next to Ginny, Ron looked at her uncertainly. Hermione couldn't read his expression, but he seemed agitated. Surely he wasn't upset she hugged Harry? It was Harry, for Merlin's sake. She decided not to waste time thinking about it. Ron's moods were always somewhat volatile.

The game continued for a few hours until Molly called them in for supper. This time, she was seated snugly between Percy, who talked her ear off about his work at the Ministry, and Mr. Weasley who asked her incessantly about the function of a loofah. After the meal, the family spread out throughout the Burrow, and Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione found themselves seated near the floo in the living room. Ginny laid her head in Harry's lap, and Ron and Hermione each claimed a mismatched chair across from them. It was quite comfortable, and the four idly chatted about Hogwarts for a while. Ginny began telling the boys about their term, detailing how amusing the new DADA professor was and how quidditch was going this season. She grew excited as she spoke of the second match against Hufflepuff, and Hermione leaned in to listen. She had missed that match, being in the infirmary. She laughed as Ginny detailed her quick escape from a bludger, and asked the redhead how she managed not to fall off of her broom.

Ron cut Ginny's response off and interjected, "Weren't you there, 'Mione?"

The girls shared an uneasy glance. Hermione hadn't told the boys of her breakdown in the owlery. It wasn't necessarily that she didn't trust them, she just didn't want to worry them. She looked at Ginny with pleading eyes; hopefully, Ginny's smooth tongue could ease past this.

"Oh Ronald, she doesn't have to go to every match."

Ron looked between them suspiciously while Harry nervously wrung his hands. He hated when there was tension between them. Ron looked back to Hermione. "You always go to every match. Even though we all know you hate quidditch."