The next few hours flew by. Hermione did her best to cheer Ginny up but still saw a hint of sadness in her eyes. The rest of the family seemed to be doing well. Even if the war had an impact on them, they sure didn’t show. Hermione watched closely to try and understand whether all this happiness was just for show or if they genuinely left the past in the past. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t tell for sure. For her, every celebration at the Burrow ever since the truce was announced felt too forced. They’ve been doing this for years, every move and every tradition was well-rehearsed, except this year it seemed unnatural. It wasn’t the same with the boys gone, or perhaps this just wasn’t supposed to be a part of her life anymore. Christmas at the Burrow was a celebration reserved for the good old Hogwarts nerd and a good friend Hermione, not the ex-Death-Eater wife that spies on her own husband and lies to her friend’s face Hermione. She knew that she was always welcome at the Weasley house, it was something inside of her that sent Hermione on a guilt trip. She left the Burrow in a hurry when the family was getting ready for dinner.