Chapter 6- The Burrow.

Harry did the same thing that he had always done when he was lost or confused: ask Hermionie.

Lily was at a sleepover, and Harry knew that Ginny would not be returning for a while, so he apparated over to The Burrow, where the Weasleys lived.

Apart from Hogwarts, and Privet Drive, The Burrow was where Harry had spent most of his time growing up, and he had very fond memories of the place.

It looked as though it had once been a small barn or something, but extra rooms had been added on, presumably by magic, so that it was several stories high and extremely crooked. Harry smiled as he walked past a tumbledown garage and up the driveway to the front door.

He knocked, and saw Hermionie's eye peep out at him through the peephole. Then, the door was flung open and she shrieked in excitement.

'Harry!' The next thing he knew he was being squeezed so tightly he couldn't breathe.

'Hello Hermionie,' he gasped. 'I'm sorry to come round so late, but I need you to help me.'

'It's no problem at all- any time!' She grinned as she ushered him into the kitchen.

'Molly will be so pleased, she was really disappointed that she couldn't go to your Quidditch game, her arthritis is getting quite bad, you see,' she whispered. 'Old age.'

Molly was Ron's mother. She had also been like a mother to Harry while he was at school, and it grieved him to hear that she was ill.

'I'm sorry to hear that,' he said. 'What about Arthur?'

'Arthur's the same, I'm afraid.' Hermionie said sadly. 'Of course, it's to be expected, they're both really old, we're just lucky that this house is big enough for all of us so that we can look after them now.' She looked gloomily around for a moment, but then smiled.

'So, what is it you wanted, Harry?'

Harry had opened his mouth to speak when a man came into the room wearing scarlet pyjamas and holding a toothbrush.

'Hermionie, have you seen the toothpaste? Oh, hi Harry! Didn't expect to see you here so late, where's Ginny?'

'He was just about to tell me,' said Hermionie. 'Ron, the toothpaste is in the bathroom, where it always is, unless Crookshanks has taken it.'

'Bloody cat,' Ron muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Harry to hear. 'Alright then, thanks. I'll be off to bed then.' He gave his wife a quick hug before turning back towards the stairs. 'Sorry, Harry, but I'm really tired,' he said. 'I'll see you at work tomorrow, anyway.'

'Nite,' said Harry, taking a seat at the table beside Hermionie.

Once Ron had shuffled out of the room, Hermionie passed Harry a bottle of Firewhisky from inside the fridge, and repeated d the question.

'So, Harry, what's the problem? Is it Ginny?'

'Kind of...' said Harry evasively. 'She doesn't want me to play in the finals.'

He had expected his friend to react sympathetically, but instead she frowned at him.

'And what did you say?'

'Well... I said that the team needs me and that I have to play...' he said. 'Well, it's true!' He said defensively. 'We can't hold trials for a new Seeker two weeks before the game- it'd be a disaster!'

'The world doesn't revolve around Quidditch, there are more important things Harry!' Hermionie said angrily. 'You know, sometimes I think Ron loves his sport more than me! What is it with boys?'

Harry sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing. Hermionie just did not understand Quidditch.

'Ginny was quite right to be mad,' Hermionie said, in a calmer tone. 'You basically said that you'd rather play Quidditch than be there for her and your kids.'

'I said no such thing! Anyway... how do you know?'

'You implied it Harry.' She paused. 'Ginny phoned me and told me that you'd argued, just before you arrived.'

'Ah,' said Harry moodily. 'That explains it.'

They sat in silence for a moment, then, Hermionie said.

'You know what I think?' She waited for a minute, but when there was no answer she continued. 'I think that there's no way you can play in the finals, and that you should let Ginny take your place.'

'WHAT?' Said Harry. 'You've GOT to be joking!'

Ginny was a great Seeker, but the idea of her taking his place in the finals was completely absurd.

'Oh, come on Harry, she'd be fine.'

'But... she's... no way!' Said Harry.

'Admit it, Harry, the only reason you don't want her to play is that you're jealous.'

This was true. Hermionie was showing her incredible mind-reading skills again. He had often wondered whether she was secretly applying Occlumency on him.

The two of them sat in complete silence for a moment, the only noise coming from a strange clock on the mantelpiece.

Finally, Harry sighed in defeat.

'Oh, alright then. I wont play.'

'Good.' Said Hermionie briskly, getting up. 'I know it's hard for you Harry, but it's for the best really, you must see that.'

He could. But that didn't make his decision any easier.

'Errm, Hermionie? While I'm here, I had something else to ask you... I know it's late and everything, but...' he trailed off as she smiled down at him and returned to her seat.

'It's okay Harry, anytime.' Harry couldn't help but wonder if she was enjoying herself. Hermionie just loved answering questions, and sometimes, she was a bit too good at it for Harry's' liking. Today, however, he needed her help, so he was not at all irritated by her enthusiasm.

'Well, I met Neville at the game and he told me that James has been playing up at school. I was wondering what I should do about it, because if he's skipping classes then he's going to fall behind, isn't he?' He grinned at her reproachfully. 'You never let me skip classes.'

'Harry!' Hermionie said in a shocked voice. 'The match was two weeks ago!' At his questioning look, she added. 'Why didn't you tell me sooner! Of course he'll get behind! How long has this been going on for?'

'Not that long...' said Harry tentatively. 'He skipped a couple last year, but it's getting worse, and Neville said that he's using the extra time to play Quidditch... do you think I should tell Mcgonagall?'

'Yes!' Said Hermionie at once. 'She'll know what to do. She'll probably confiscate his broom or something.'

'That's what I thought.' Said Harry. 'Well, thanks...'

'Not a problem.' She said sweetly. 'Well, Harry, it's been great chatting to you, but if that's all...?'

'Yeah, it is.' He said. 'Thanks Hermionie, you've been great. I'll let you get off to bed now.'

He rose from the table and pushed in the rickety chair, just as Hugo came running into the room.

'Mummy, I had an accident!' There was a big wet stain on his striped pyjama bottoms. He turned around, saw Harry, and blushed.

'It's okay darling.' Said Hermionie. 'I'll sort it, well, I'll see you later then, Harry.'

'Bye.' He said. 'And thanks again.'

As he disapparated back to his warm, dry house, a feeling of immense relief washed over him. He felt strangely... happy. The things that had caused him so much grief only an hour ago now felt much smaller, and insignificant. Perhaps it was because of the Firewhisky he had drunk, or because his son had stopped wetting the bed years ago, but he felt like maybe having a rest from Quidditch would not be such a bad thing after all... now, all he had to do was tell Ginny the good news.

But wait, there's more! I'm sorry this chapter's taken so long to post, but I'm not really in the mood for writing at the mo. But keep an eye out for my next chapter, which will be overflowing with fighting, action, drama, and a regurgitating toilet!