HIS CHOSEN GIRL
chapter twenty four-the burrow
[Harry's P.O.V]
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"Ok. Cmon in," George whispers, opening the door and leading us into the Weasley's house. "Shhh."

Figures, Ron walks straight over to the kitchen table inspecting a plate full of rolls. "Do you think it'll be alright if we have some of this?" Ron asks.

"Yeah," Fred replies as he takes two, one for himself and one for his twin. "Mum will never know."

I marvel the house, taking interest in every quirky thing I see. The sink faucet runs on it's own and the dishes scrub themselves. I make my way out of the kitchen and approach a clock. On the clock, instead of hands, is a picture of each of the Weasley's and instead of numbers are words such as dentist, home, school, lost, prison etc. Three of the "hands" attached to the pictures begin to move. I watch as Fred, George, and Ron's face moves around the clock until arriving on the word home. I smile at the genius device Mr and Mrs. Weasley use to track the locations of their kids. After all, not even Mrs. Weasley is bound to know the whereabouts of all her kids, especially when two of them are Fred and George. I walk in to the living room where a rocking chair rocks back and fourth on its own, on it being a set of knitting needles in the process of knitting a very colorful jumper.

The house is quite cramped, with loads of knickknacks and furniture and as I examine the house in sheer amazement, I decide that this may be my second favorite building on earth.

"It's not much," Ron says with a mouthful of food. "But it's home."

"It's brilliant," I turn to face him, responding truthfully.

Ron smiles and nods in agreement.

I then hear a loud thumping coming down the stairs. "Where have you been?" Mrs. Weasley shrieks furiously.

I turn to face the boys, fearing for them, as they slowly lower the rolls from their mouths and hide them behind their backs.

Mrs. Weasley gasps and I turn back around to see the happiest of looks on her face, contrary to just a moment ago where if looks could kill the three boys surely would be dead.

"Harry," she beams. "How wonderful to see you."

She faces the boys again and switches in an instant. "Bed empty! No note! Car gone! You could've died, you could've been seen!"

The three boys hang their heads down in shame and Mrs Weasley walks over to me, pinching my cheeks. "Of course, I don't blame you Harry, dear."

As sweet as her gesture was it only makes me feel guiltier about the current circumstances.

Ron gulps proving that he was properly sorted into Gryffindor for a reason as he dares to speak back to his mother. "They were starving him, mum. There were bars on his window."

Her mom glares. "Well, you'd best hope I don't put bars on your window Ronald Weasley," she points her finger threateningly his face contouring into one of fear. She then pats my shoulders and gestures to the kitchen table. "Come on, Harry, time for a spot of breakfast."

I nod immediately and follow her to the kitchen because after seeing how she yelled at her three boys, I don't think I'll ever, ever dare to disagree with Mrs. Weasley.

-

Mrs. Weasley reloads my plate for the third time before turning to put things away. I wait until she's fully turned around before scraping half of it onto Ron's plate who stares at my own longingly.

I fear footsteps coming down the stairs again and look up to see a small red headed girl walk into the kitchen and over to Mrs. Weasley. I recognize her as Ron's little sister, Ginny whom I'd only seen once before, a year ago in fact when (y/n) and I had crossed to platform 9 3/4. She approaches her mother, unaware of my presence and tugs on her apron.

"Mummy, have you seen my jumper?"

"Yes, dear," Mrs. Weasley replies. "It was on the cat."

Ginny begins to walk into the living area, stopping in her tracks, her eyes widening when she sees me watching her.

"Hello," I say.

She stays there, frozen as she backs away slowly before turning around completely and running back up the stairs.

I look around the table confused. The twins state after her, identical smiles on their faces, Percy doesn't seem to care, and Ron stuffs his face, as usual, completely oblivious.

"What did I do?" I ask. 

"Ginny?" Ron asks to which I nod. "She's been talking about you all summer. A bit annoying, really. You know, mate if I didn't know any better-"

"You don't," Fred interjects.

Ron scowls. "If I didn't know any better-"

"Still don't," George grins.

"I'd say (y/n) is gonna have some competition," Ron finally manages to say before returning to his breakfast.

"Ooh, (y/n)" tease Fred and George.

Mrs. Weasley smacks them each on the head with a dish towel.

"Ron, there's nothing going on between me and (y/n)," I disclaim.

Really, it's not a lie. While I wish that there were something between the two of us, I know that it's just my 12 year old self incapable of controlling my feelings. Surely it's just a small crush, it's like the flu, everyone gets them.

Ron smirks. "Whatever you say, Harry."

"Morning Weasleys!" Yells a voice coming through the door.

"Morning, dad," everyone replies.

"What a night," he says sitting beside me. "Nine raids. Nine!"

I face Ron confused. "Raids?"

Ron nods. "Dad works in the ministry of magic, in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Dad loves muggles. Thinks they're fascinating."

Me. Weasley takes a seat beside me and I begin eating again, Mrs. Weasley has once again refilled my plate. He stares at me awhile, as if trying to figure out which one of his children this is before asking, "And who are you?"

Feeling immediately impolite I extend my hand for him to shake. "Oh, sorry, sir. I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

His eyes widen a tad. Something I've grown rather accustomed to when I introduce to people of this world. "Good lord," he marvels. "Are you really? Well, Ron's told us all about you, of course. When did he get here?""

Mrs. Weasley takes this cue to turn around, hands on her hips as she displeasingly glances at the three culprits who'd spent their morning breaking me out of my cell.

"This morning," she answers. "Your sons flew that enchanted car of yours to Surrey and back last night."

"Did you really?" Mr Weasley asks and after Mrs. Weasley's performance this morning I expect a second showing but instead, "How'd it go?"

Mrs. Weasley now smacks Mr. Weasley upside the head.

He clears his throat. "I mean... That was very wrong, indeed boys. Very wrong of you," he says under Mrs. Weasley's glare. I look at Ron and he looks at me and we both smile. "Now. Harry, you must know all about muggles. Tell me... What exactly is the function of a rubber duck?"

I think, unsure of how to answer the question. "Oh, um..."

Thankfully I get interrupted by a loud screech. I look to the window to see a brown barn owl come soaring towards us.

"Oh, that'll be Errol with the post," Mrs. Weasley announces.

The owl in mention comes flying down, missing the open window by a few inches ramming right into the closed one. I'm the only one that jumps, scared for the owl. The Weasley's just groan.

"Oh, fetch it will you, Percy, please," Mrs. Weasley asks.

Percy gets up and walks over to the window while Ron shakes his head at the bird. "He's always doing that,"

Percy sorts through the stack of mail. "Oh, look, it's our Hogwarts letters. And they've sent us Harry's as well," he distributed the letters and passes me mine.

"Dumbledore must know you're here, Harry," Mr. Weasley notes. "Doesn't miss a trick that man."

"This lot won't come cheap, mum," George says scanning the supply list.

"These spell books alone are very expensive," Fred adds.

Mrs. Weasley gestures for me to pass her my list to which I hand it to her and she sighs but puts on a reassuring face to her boys.

"We'll manage," she passes the letter back to me and I cant help but feel guilty that the Weasley's struggle with money, as if it's my fault. "There's only one place were gonna get all this; Diagon Alley."

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