The four were walking down to the Weasely's broom shed.
"So it was me and Ginny versus Fred and George. Hermoine was the seeker for both sides- no one would get the points, just end the game"
" And i was completely ghastly at it. I'll never understand Quidditch!" Hermoine moaned.
"No, no, you were great, honestly!" Ron earnestly comforted her. Then under his breath to Harry: "It's awful. We're sill continuing our first game." "Anyway, mate, now that you're hear we can play Fred and George as opposite keepers, me and Hermoine will be chasers, and you and Ginny can play seekers." Ron continued.
"When'll the twins be here?" Harry wrenched the shed door open.
"Already here, Harry m'boy!" Fred greeted him jovially. He and George had apperated in between the shed wall and broomsticks, and his body was twisted in a rather awkward position.
"What are we waiting on, my good men?" George swished his wand, and the brooms bombarded their owners. Hermoine looked positively terrified at hers. "Here, Hermoine. Take mine. It's easier." Harry handed her his broom. She smiled in thanks. "That's very-er, generous of you." Ron observed, his voice tinged with jealousy.
They mounted and flew over to the makeshift pitch in the Burrow's Backyard. Harry and the Weasleys flew with the grace and fluidity of a true Quidditch player. Hermoine on the other hand.
" 'Mione! Watch out!" Ron called. His bushy haired friend was rolling through the air haphazardly. She only spun faster, until finally her tail end ran smack into a tree.
With a sick splintering, her broom became little more than a stick. Unreally, she tumbled in a mass of robes and hair. Ron dived down ( Harry was reminded of the urgency he had once seen in Viktor Krum's feint). "Get Mum!" He called hoarsely. Fred and George apperated, leaving two empty Cleansweeps to drift to the yard. Harry dismounted and ran to Hermoine's body. Only Ginny remained in the air- what was that on the edge of the forest...
"Oh, she'll be right as rain in an hour or two. Just a handful of bones to mend, nothing to worry about!" Mrs. Weasely poured an amber liquid down Hermoines throat. Ron watched earnestly. Fred and George sat in the back, talking with Harry.
"Now, I know Hermione was no Krum"
"No Ginny"
"Hell, she was no Malfoy-" Fred and George cantered.
"But she was not that clumsy." The twins concluded.
"You don't think someone cursed her, do you"
The twins exchanged dark glances.
"Not her, mate. The broom. The broom they thought you'd be riding"
The three silently mused on this grim thought.
"Wait- have you seen Ginny lately?" Harry set up abruptly.
" Here! Here I am!" Ginny burst through the door. "How's Hermoine"
"Doing fine, fine." Mrs. Weasely soothed her. "But where have you been- your robes are caked with dirt"
"I-er- was trying to get the broomstick bits. try to fix it, be handy, you know"
Harry gave her a dumb stare.
" You worried more about the broom than HERMOINE"
"Well she was obviously well taken care of, wasn't she Potter!" Ginny snapped. Harry's stupor only deepened. Since when had he called her POTTER? Ginny's face relaxed as if by force.
"I'm sorry Harry. Of course I was worried about Hermoine. But it was your broom. I was worried about you, too." She laid her hand on his arm. Harry felt a fluttering in his stomach, more amazing than any magic worked on him before.