Chapter 289: Feast Preparations at the Burrow
"The school must be getting ready for the Christmas feast by now."
In the Burrow's kitchen, Harry whisked eggs for Mrs Weasley while his thoughts wandered.
Last Christmas, he had spent at Hogwarts, and it had been the grandest Christmas of his life.
Unfortunately, halfway through the feast, he had been hit by that cursed spell of Voldemort's. If Professor Kahn hadn't had something on hand to break it, Harry might have died right there in the Great Hall.
He had been saved in the end, but the feast itself had been cut short and never properly finished.
If he could, he would have loved to attend another Hogwarts Christmas feast this year, to make up for what he had missed.
But that clearly wasn't going to happen.
When the mixture in the bowl felt smooth enough, Harry's whisking slowed. He lifted his head and glanced around.
Unlike the Burrow's lopsided exterior, the kitchen was neat and orderly. Everything was placed where it could be seen at a glance, ready to be summoned with a quick Flick of a wand and a Levitation Charm.
Because they would all be heading to Norway after Christmas, Harry hadn't stayed at school this year. He had come to spend Christmas with Ron and the Weasleys instead.
Satisfied with the eggs, he set the whisk aside and carried the bowl over to Mrs Weasley, who was controlling more than a dozen floating pots and pans at once.
"All done, Mrs Weasley."
It was the first time he had seen anyone handle so many Levitation Charms at once while still keeping every movement in order.
Professor Kahn had said that maintaining multiple ongoing spells such as Levitation required extremely high levels of mental stamina, magical skill, and fine control.
Doing this as casually as Mrs Weasley did meant she wasn't just good with Levitation. Her mind was far stronger than that of most witches and wizards.
Even if she had not seen much real combat, a witch with that much raw control would be far more formidable in a fight than an ordinary spell‑slinger.
"Oh, thank you, dear!" Mrs Weasley flashed him a warm smile over her shoulder. With a flick of her wand, the beaten egg rose smoothly out of his bowl and poured itself into another, mixing with ingredients she had already prepared.
"I'm sorry to rope you into this. There's just so much to get ready for Christmas, I couldn't manage it all alone."
"It's no trouble, Mrs Weasley. I've had a lot of practice."
Harry smiled back. "Is there anything else I can do?"
"I don't think so. Once Percy and the others bring in the potatoes from the yard—"
She didn't finish. The kitchen door swung open, and Penelope stepped in, a bag in one hand and an embarrassed look on her face.
"Mrs Weasley, I've brought the potatoes. Percy's still out dealing with the gnomes in the garden."
"Oh, bless you, Penny!" Mrs Weasley tapped her wand, and the sack floated off into a corner.
Then she waved again. The pots and pans circling overhead descended neatly to their usual places.
Only when she had everything safely parked did she roll up her sleeves and scowl.
"And where are those boys? Letting a guest do the heavy work, honestly!"
Penelope flapped her hands quickly. "It's really fine, Mrs Weasley. I had nothing else to do. I'd rather help than just sit around."
"That doesn't mean they get to loaf while you do the hard labour." Mrs Weasley still looked cross, but one glance at the half‑finished preparations made her sigh and swallow the rest. She could yell at them after dinner was ready.
Sending the pots and pans back into the air with another sweep of her wand, she turned a softer smile on Penelope, clearly very pleased.
"Percy is lucky to have you, he really is."
Colour hit Penelope's cheeks in a rush. She waved both hands again. "C‑come on, Mrs Weasley, it's not like that! I'll just go and give Percy a hand!"
She spun round and all but fled, pulling the door shut behind her.
Mrs Weasley chuckled under her breath, looking at the closed door, then turned to Harry.
"Go and have a rest too, dear. In another hour, you'll be able to enjoy Christmas dinner."
"All right, Mrs Weasley."
Seeing there really wasn't anything left that needed his help, Harry said goodbye and left the kitchen.
Out by the big table, George and Fred sat one on each side of a red‑haired young man whose forearms were criss‑crossed with burn scars. Both twins wore matching, mysterious expressions, clearly in the middle of some kind of sales pitch.
Harry could guess who the young man was. He had never met him before, but the flame‑coloured hair and the burns were identification enough.
"I promise you, once you hear the details, you'll be interested," George was saying, his voice all honeyed temptation, like a devil whispering in an innocent ear.
The young man did not seem particularly swayed. His expression held a glimmer of curiosity, but nothing stronger.
"You need to tell me what you want me to do before I decide," he said. "If you're planning anything truly dangerous, I'm not going along with it. And if I think it's dangerous, I'm telling Mum."
"It's not dangerous at all. We're doing a good deed this time," Fred said, undeterred. "It was Wood's idea, remember. You know what Wood's like. If it were really risky, he'd never sign off on it."
"Wood came up with it?" That did seem to catch the young man's interest. As Fred said, he knew Wood well.
Which, if anything, made him more curious. What on earth had Wood thought up that could get George and Fred this excited, and that they were so determined to drag him into it while specifically keeping Percy and Bill in the dark?
"What is it? Tell me first."
"Not until you promise you'll help," George said. "You have to swear you're in, then we'll tell you."
They stared each other down for a moment. Then the red‑haired wizard snorted and shook his head.
"Tch. Keep your secrets if you like."
He knew these younger brothers too well.
If he refused firmly and kept looking unimpressed, they would crack eventually. They would not be able to resist telling him.
In the meantime, he could at least say hello to the Burrow's new guest.
With that in mind, he looked over at the boy just emerging from the kitchen, got to his feet, and held out a hand with a friendly smile.
"You're Harry, right? I've heard about you from my friend."
"I'm Charlie. Charlie Weasley. Pleased to meet you."