At the Weasleys'

"It's Sirius!"

"He left suddenly, saying he wanted to leave these children with us for a few days."

"That's what caused us to be delayed," Mr. Weasley said in what he clearly thought was a lighthearted tone.

"Right, Harry?" Mr. Weasley cleverly pushed Harry in front of Mrs. Weasley.

Harry was surprised to find that Mrs. Weasley seemed to be under Happiness Charm; the murderous look on her face suddenly turned into a radiant smile. "Harry! Poor child, look how thin you've become!"

"I was in a hurry to go home last time we met, and I didn't have time to see you."

"Come on, come inside. I've already prepared dinner." Mrs. Weasley finished speaking with a fierce glare at Mr. Weasley.

In their many years of married life, even if Mr. Weasley bent over, she could guess why.

Everything that just happened was clearly just an excuse.

But because Harry was there, she didn't make a big deal out of it.

"Oh dear, why did Sirius leave us like this?"

"I've made too much dinner," Mrs. Weasley said with a pained smile, and walked briskly toward the cottage.

"Hello, Harry, and Draco," Percy said, puffing out his chest. Even at dinner, he was impeccably dressed, his Prefect badge pinned to his knitted vest.

"Our brother has loved it ever since he got it."

"I carry it with me no matter what."

"Hello, Harry and Malfoy, you little devils," Fred and George suddenly appeared and said.

Harry, however, paid no attention to any of this; his stomach was already rumbling.

He looked into the kitchen, which was small and rather cramped, with a clean wooden table and a few chairs in the middle.

The wall clock had only one hand and no numbers; the clock face bore inscriptions like "Break tea, feed the chickens, you're going to be late." Three shelves of books were stacked on the mantel: "The Enchant Your Own Cheese," "The Magic of Toasting," "Conjure a Feast!," and others—all Magic Book. An old radio sat beside the sink.

How amazing, this is the wizard's house?

Harry had never seen anything like it before. This made him even ignore the chicken still in the pot, the plate full of ham pies, the simmering boiled potatoes covered with a lid, and a bowl of salad that hadn't been drizzled with sauce yet.

"Mom, including that crazy House-elf, there are ten of us!"

"Is there enough room in the kitchen?" Fred and George asked separately.

"We're eating in the yard. If you'd eaten properly at lunchtime instead of thinking about how to make explosions in the house all day, you would know I told you so!" Mrs. Weasley complained, while pointing her wand at the salad bowl and twirling it around in circles.

As she stirred, a stream of creamy sauce sprayed out from the wand head.

Fred and George shrank back.

Just then, a red-haired little man in a blue robe ran into the kitchen, screamed, and ran out again.

"This is Ginny," Ron whispered to Harry. "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer."

"Didn't your sister already know?" Draco said in a jealous tone.

He noticed something: after Harry arrived, almost everyone's attention was focused on him.

I, on the other hand, only received polite but distant treatment.

"Are you jealous? Because someone likes Harry?" Fred teased Draco.

Soon, with Percy's help, the table was moved to the garden.

But Fred said that Percy would never normally do such a thing; he just wanted people to notice the medals on his chest.

This can be seen from his peculiarly puffed-out chest.

"Hey, you three, Percy's set the table. Ron, can't you lend a hand and get the cutlery out? Fred and George, you take these plates out too," Mrs. Weasley suddenly appeared behind them and said to her other three children.

"Harry, Draco, you two can go outside and wait for dinner."

"I'll fry some more sausages. Look how thin you are, poor Harry," Mrs. Weasley said affectionately to Harry.

So they left Mrs. Weasley behind, went out the back door, and entered the garden.

Percy and Ginny were already seated, and tablecloths had been laid out on their seats.

Percy, still holding his head high, casually twirled the Prefect's medal as he took the knife and fork from Ron.

Ginny kept staring at the table, and it seemed like even the roots of her fiery red hair were turning red.

"Kreacher, come here, we'll eat in a bit." Harry had no choice but to shift his attention to the silent Kreacher standing to the side. He had a cynical look on his face, completely out of place with the cheerful Weasley family.

"Kreacher hasn't stooped so low as to eat with his master's family!"

"If Harry Potter insists, old Kreacher will have no choice but to pretend he didn't hear me," Kreacher muttered to himself.

Harry had no choice but to awkwardly retract his order.

Time quickly came to dinnertime, and the two tables, weighed down by the delicious dishes prepared by Mrs. Weasley, were groaning with exhaustion.

The Weasley family, along with Harry and Draco, sat down to eat under the clear, deep blue night sky.

For Harry, who had spent the entire afternoon wandering around outside and had experienced several major thrills, this was like being in paradise.

At first, Harry was so engrossed in eating chicken, ham pie, boiled potatoes, and salad that he didn't have time to talk.

At the other end of the table, Mrs. Weasley was still complaining about what had happened that day.

She 'accidentally' added a few more sausages to Harry's plate, glaring at Mr. Weasley every now and then, muttering under her breath, "I don't know what you were thinking, flying a car across half the country—untested—"

"I can't believe it."

"I wouldn't feel at ease if it weren't for Kreacher." Kreacher turned his head and secretly spat.

"You think my skills are unreliable?" Mr. Weasley said angrily, but his attention was immediately diverted when Ginny accidentally knocked the plate to the ground again. She crawled under the table to pick it up and came out blushing like the evening glow.

"Ginny, would you like to sit here with Daddy?" Mr. Weasley, completely unaware of Ginny's motives, extended an invitation to Ginny, who was sitting in the prime spot opposite Harry.

"No," Ginny whispered, looking down. Harry pretended not to hear, while Draco, standing nearby, let out a mischievous laugh that only Harry could hear.

After the meal, Harry rubbed his stomach (Mrs. Weasley had refilled it four times), and with heavy steps, he walked with Ron and Draco through the narrow passageway and up the rickety stairs.

The staircase winds and turns, leading to the upper floors.

They climbed two more floors and came to a door with peeling paint, above which was a small sign that read "Ron's Room".

Harry went inside, and the sloping ceiling almost touched his head.

"The three of us will sleep here," Ron said nervously.