Harry Potter's Sixth Year
"Hey, Harry. Time to wake up. Harry. HARRY!" "W-what?" mumbled Harry. "What? What did you yell in my ear for?" "Because it's time to wake up. You've got to wake up early if you want to play Quidditch early. Besides, Mum's gonna go crazy if you don't wake up now. She's cooked twelve eggs and ten sausages specially for you, mate," said Ron, looking at Harry wistfully. "The rest of us only get two eggs and sausages each." "Well, I didn't ask for it," said Harry grumpily, getting out of bed and opening Ron's wardrobe. "Your mum just cooked it for me. I just don't get why she always treats me this way." "Yeah, mate," Ron nodded vigorously. "Giving you third helpings.making you a Weasley jumper even though you're not family.maybe you're just famous, that's all." "Yeah, maybe," said Harry, grabbing a T-shirt and jeans from his pile of clothes. "Or maybe she just treats me like her own son." "Don't worry about it too much, Harry," assured Ron, patting him on the shoulder. "I know you didn't ask to be famous. Anyway, you'd better be downstairs in 5 minutes, before Fred and George gobble up your eggs before you can even say "broomstick". They're leaving for their joke shop early. Business is booming, according to them. See you downstairs, Harry."
Harry dressed in silence, thinking about what he had said. Did Mrs Weasley really treat him as her own son? Or was it just his own imagination? Don't worry about it to much, Harry thought to himself firmly, as he made his descent to the kitchen.
Harry had been brought to the Burrow (a little bit forcefully) by the Weasleys during the second week into the summer holidays. It was now the fourth week and he and Ron had woken up early every morning to practice Quidditch in the paddock nearby. Harry was a little behind since he missed all those Quidditch practices thanks to Umbridge's detentions. Hermione was to arrive anytime now and Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he heard this. He was having a lot of trouble with his holiday work and desperately need Hermione's help. Ron, however, after hearing Harry read Hermione's letter aloud, turned red in the ears and left clutching his broomstick. Harry chuckled silently. It was well known that Ron fancied Hermione although Hermione herself didn't know it. Harry, deciding to let their relationship blossom, kept it quiet. When he reached the kitchen, he found Fred and George already tucking in heartily to their breakfast.
"Here, you can have some. It's too much for me. You've got to have a good breakfast before heading for the joke shop."
"Thanks, Harry!" cried Fred delightedly, loading his and George's plates with steaming eggs and sausages.
"What's going on here?"
"Um.we are late, have to go," said George hurriedly, bolting down his breakfast and Apparating with a loud crack.
"Those two!" said Mrs Weasley furiously, piling Harry's plate with eleven more pieces of bacon. "I absolutely don't know what to do with them.More sausages, dear?" she said to Harry, her formidable air vanishing in an instant.
"Er.that's enough, thanks." Said Harry reassuringly, and he began to eat.
"Harry, are you done, yet? Ginny's waiting outside. I've fetched your broomstick," said Ron in a loud voice, carrying his Cleansweep Eleven and Harry's Firebolt over his shoulder.
"Nearly," said Harry, gulping down his orange juice. "Thanks, Mrs Weasley, for the breakfast."
"That was nothing, dear." Harry mounted his broomstick and zoomed off towards the paddock with Ron, leaving Ginny trailing behind on her Cleansweep Seven.
"Hey, Harry. Time to wake up. Harry. HARRY!" "W-what?" mumbled Harry. "What? What did you yell in my ear for?" "Because it's time to wake up. You've got to wake up early if you want to play Quidditch early. Besides, Mum's gonna go crazy if you don't wake up now. She's cooked twelve eggs and ten sausages specially for you, mate," said Ron, looking at Harry wistfully. "The rest of us only get two eggs and sausages each." "Well, I didn't ask for it," said Harry grumpily, getting out of bed and opening Ron's wardrobe. "Your mum just cooked it for me. I just don't get why she always treats me this way." "Yeah, mate," Ron nodded vigorously. "Giving you third helpings.making you a Weasley jumper even though you're not family.maybe you're just famous, that's all." "Yeah, maybe," said Harry, grabbing a T-shirt and jeans from his pile of clothes. "Or maybe she just treats me like her own son." "Don't worry about it too much, Harry," assured Ron, patting him on the shoulder. "I know you didn't ask to be famous. Anyway, you'd better be downstairs in 5 minutes, before Fred and George gobble up your eggs before you can even say "broomstick". They're leaving for their joke shop early. Business is booming, according to them. See you downstairs, Harry."
Harry dressed in silence, thinking about what he had said. Did Mrs Weasley really treat him as her own son? Or was it just his own imagination? Don't worry about it to much, Harry thought to himself firmly, as he made his descent to the kitchen.
Harry had been brought to the Burrow (a little bit forcefully) by the Weasleys during the second week into the summer holidays. It was now the fourth week and he and Ron had woken up early every morning to practice Quidditch in the paddock nearby. Harry was a little behind since he missed all those Quidditch practices thanks to Umbridge's detentions. Hermione was to arrive anytime now and Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he heard this. He was having a lot of trouble with his holiday work and desperately need Hermione's help. Ron, however, after hearing Harry read Hermione's letter aloud, turned red in the ears and left clutching his broomstick. Harry chuckled silently. It was well known that Ron fancied Hermione although Hermione herself didn't know it. Harry, deciding to let their relationship blossom, kept it quiet. When he reached the kitchen, he found Fred and George already tucking in heartily to their breakfast.
"Here, you can have some. It's too much for me. You've got to have a good breakfast before heading for the joke shop."
"Thanks, Harry!" cried Fred delightedly, loading his and George's plates with steaming eggs and sausages.
"What's going on here?"
"Um.we are late, have to go," said George hurriedly, bolting down his breakfast and Apparating with a loud crack.
"Those two!" said Mrs Weasley furiously, piling Harry's plate with eleven more pieces of bacon. "I absolutely don't know what to do with them.More sausages, dear?" she said to Harry, her formidable air vanishing in an instant.
"Er.that's enough, thanks." Said Harry reassuringly, and he began to eat.
"Harry, are you done, yet? Ginny's waiting outside. I've fetched your broomstick," said Ron in a loud voice, carrying his Cleansweep Eleven and Harry's Firebolt over his shoulder.
"Nearly," said Harry, gulping down his orange juice. "Thanks, Mrs Weasley, for the breakfast."
"That was nothing, dear." Harry mounted his broomstick and zoomed off towards the paddock with Ron, leaving Ginny trailing behind on her Cleansweep Seven.