"What's wrong, Hermione? Are you feeling unwell?"
Because of what she had seen that afternoon, which she suspected had been her sweetheart, Hermione had been distracted all afternoon, and naturally brought that absentmindedness to the dinner table.
Mrs. Weasley noticed it keenly and immediately asked after her with concern.
"No." Hermione came back to herself and shook her head. "I was just wondering how Harry and the others were doing."
"Ah." Mrs. Weasley's expression shifted. She sighed softly, shook her head, and said nothing more. Across the table, Bill and Pheobe exchanged a glance, then tacitly lowered their heads to eat the food on their plates.
As the night deepened, Hermione, back in her room, kept glancing toward the room where a little badger had once appeared.
She wondered blankly whether she had been seeing things.
Of course, Su Er had no idea that a silly girl was doubting her own eyes. Under cover of darkness, he used the convenience of his Animagus form to slip past the watchers, who had already grown somewhat inattentive and only swept their eyes over the Burrow from time to time, and sneaked inside along the little paths left by the gnomes.
The back door was locked, of course. There was no question about that.
But that did not matter. A nonverbal Alohomora would take care of it.
Beyond the back door lay the kitchen, which Mrs. Weasley had cleaned until it was spotless after dinner.
Returning to human form, Su Er rubbed his stomach. Before checking whether Hermione was here, he had wanted to see if there was any food to fill his stomach, which had been empty all day. Now there was no hope of that.
He might as well get down to business.
Cloaking himself in a Disillusionment Charm, Su Er