The Sense

Note: Hi, I just had this sudden idea rammed into my face the other night, so I figured why not write about it? Rated PG-13 for some very rude language in some later chapters. You have been warned.

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“PLEASE, Hermione!”

“No.”

“PLEASE!”

“NO.”

“Pleeease! I’ll do Snape’s essay tonight, I swear.”

Hermione paused for a moment at Ron’s offer.

“No.”

“Hermione, come on! We’ve got Ginny and the twins as Chasers, Harry as Seeker and I’m Keeper. We need at least ONE beater to try out Harry’s new equipment! You’re – “ Ron pointed a finger dramatically, “…You’re ruining Harry’s birthday!” He nudged Harry in the ribs.

“Ow – what, oh! Yeah!” Harry said, rubbing his ribs.

“See?”

It was the summer after their surprisingly uneventful 6^th year. The Second War was well under way, and there were already several Death Eater attacks and a few fatalities, but there were never any attempts that specifically targeted Harry. Everyone that was attacked had no connection to The Boy Who Lived whatsoever and they held no pattern. The Order of the Phoenix was greatly disturbed by this, thinking that the worst was yet to come and the Dark Lord’s minions were just biding their time, or else planning some extreme assault. They weren’t going all-out madness like 16 years ago, they were doing a little random attacks, to remind people of their presence, and were preparing for something huge. It didn’t help at all that Cornelius Fudge was doing the bare minimum to aid the situation. The most proactive thing he had done in light of the Death Eater attacks was to post Patronus instructions on store windows and pass out self-defense pamphlets to each Wizarding household. The Auror ranks were not even increased. The Order of the Phoenix devoted about three-quarters of their ranks to fighting the Death Eaters off. The other quarter, to Harry’s annoyance, took shifts in watching over him and his friends.

At the moment Kingsley and Tonks were seated in the Weasley’s kitchen, having tea with Mrs. Weasley. It was Harry’s 17^th birthday, and to celebrate Dumbledore had given permission for him to stay at the Burrow for the rest of the summer with Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. The twins now had their own place, a flat above their Diagon Alley storefront “Weasley Wizard Wheezes”, but visited the Burrow often, usually to show off and make Ron jealous. As a present from Lupin, Harry had received an official Quidditch equipment set, complete with a snitch, a quaffle, two bludgers, and two Beater bats. Fred had enchanted three of their mother’s baskets to float in the air and act as the goals and they were dying to try the new Quidditch set out. Unfortunately, they were short two beaters.

“How would you play with one beater, anyway?” Hermione huffed from her seat on the grass. The nice, solid ground.

“Well, we can’t very well have two, might as well have at least one.” Ron said.

Hermione shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

“Why not, scared to fly, are we?” George taunted. He hopped on his broom and zoomed up the hill near the Burrow, where they used to practice Quidditch with apples. Now they would be able to ditch the apples and use actual Quidditch equipment, and they were all dying to play.

“I reckon she is.” Fred grinned and followed his brother.

“I am not!” Hermione called after them.

“Prove it, then.” Ron said, thrusting an ancient, splintering broomstick at her. Hermione looked at it disdainfully.

“Oh, just leave her alone. Let’s play without bludgers.” Ginny said, grabbing the old broom from Ron and hitting him over the head with it. Then she tugged Harry away. “Come on, I have stuff to do I can’t wait all day.” She got on her broom and followed the twins.

Harry mounted his broom and hovered nine feet in the air. “I’d really appreciate it if you played Beater, Hermione.”

Hermione bit her lip, a habit that Harry was beginning to notice very frequently. She did it often when she was thinking hard, or reluctant to do something. It made her look younger than she was. Innocent. It was also a dead giveaway that she would give in. Seeing Hermione’s weakening will, he went on.

“Please? Ron and I will do Snape’s essay AND McGonagall’s if you play.”

“Well…” Hermione desperately fought the part of her brain that wanted to make Harry happy. Hermione usually had total control over her mind, but lately when she was with Harry, it seemed like it wasn’t her mind that was doing the thinking.

“I knew it! I knew Harry would break you down.” Ron grinned cheekily, interrupting Hermione’s thoughts. He picked up one of the bats playfully and tossed it between his palms. Then he mounted his broom and flew in a gleeful circle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione demanded defensively.

“Means you fancy Harry, what did you think it meant?” Ron teased, knowing fully well that he was pushing Hermione’s buttons. He loved doing that.

“WHAT!?” Harry and Hermione cried.

“Harry and Hermione, sitting in a tree – “

Ron was cut off when Hermione, fuming, released a bludger from the Quidditch chest. The bludger zigzagged a little, like a confused snitch. She grabbed a bat at swatted it, very uncharacteristic of the usual Hermione nonchalance.

BAM!

The bludger hurtled in a perfect arc towards Ron.

“Yaaaahhhh!” Ron cried in surprise. He instinctively raised his own bat in defense, deflecting the well-aimed blow.

“AHH!” The bludger had rocketed off Ron’s bat into the back of Harry’s broom. Harry was bucked forward, and fought to keep his Firebolt in the air. He jerked the nose up, but this only cause further imbalance and he hurtled into a tree with a dull “thud”.

“HARRY!” Hermione gasped, horrified.

“Bloody hell, Hermione!” Ron murmured, not sure whether to be afraid or in awe. He descended to the foot of the tree were Harry lay in a heap. Hermione raced to Harry’s side.

“Harry? Harry! Are you alright!? I’m so sorry!” Hermione shook his limp shoulder. Please, please let him be okay. Please. “I’m sorry, Harry, say something!”

Harry murmured softly.

“What? What was that, Harry?”

“I said…” Harry shot up straight, with a huge grin on his face “That was the best shot I’ve ever seen from a Beater in my whole life!”

Hermione stared in a stunned silence before her eyes flared.

“Oh shi – damn it Harry, you almost made me choke on my tonsils.” Ron coughed in relief. He beat his chest. “Damn it.”

“HARRY!” Hermione yelled angrily. “THAT WAS NOT FUNNY!”

“Sorry, Hermione, but bloody hell that was an AMAZING – “

“HARRY – “ Hermione was at a loss for words. She punched his shoulder. “Don’t DO THAT!”

“But Hermione, really, your aim was dead on, it was brilliant!” Ron agreed. “You’ve got to be our Beater! In fact, I think you should try out for the Gryffindor team!”

Hermione ignored him. “Harry, I should hex your head right off your shoulders for that trick. I thought I really hurt you. ” She fumed.

Harry blushed and got up, dusting his pants off. “Sorry, Hermione…” he reached out a hand to help Hermione up from her kneeling position. “…I just thought – “

Hermione swatted his hand away. “No. It wasn’t funny.” She got up herself and stomped into the house, her face a bright red.

Ron watched her go. “Sometimes I think she’s a bit mad. It was just a joke.”

“Shut up, Ron.” Harry ran after her, leaving Ron bewildered.

“What the hell is going on with them lately? I’m not a bloody mind-reader for Merlin’s sake!”