Disclaimer: Belongs to J.K Rowling and The WB.
A/N: Ok, I finished the plot outline, so I now know what I am doing. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE point out anything that is wrong with my stories! That way I can fix them and make them better! Thank you so much! This chapter is really short. I still have to master the art of cliffhangers J . So please don't harangue me on it being too short.
Harry felt the spinning come to an end as he landed in the kitchen in the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley was cooking something over a stove and Ron was sitting at the table, a huge grin on his face.
"Hey Harry!" he said enthusiastically.
"Hey," replied Harry, feeling a glimmer of happiness light up in him because of seeing his best friend.
"How's it going?" asked Ron. "Are you okay?"
"Just because I've lost someone doesn't mean I'm going to commit suicide," Harry told him, a smile breaking across his face.
"Ok. Ok, no need to get snippish," Ron told him.
"Harry, I need to talk to you," said Mr. Weasley, poking him gently in the back.
Mr. Weasley held the door open for Harry and ushered him into a small, private room. The room was sprinkled with squishy couches and glossy mahogany tables.
"Have a seat," said Mr. Weasley, gesturing to one of the many couches.
Harry sat down on a couch and looked expectantly at Mr. Weasley
"Is something wrong?" he asked Mr. Weasley.
Mr. Weasley let out a small laugh and looked down at his shoes.
"Harry, you know if anything is bothering you, you can come to me, right?" said Mr. Weasley, his face turning a slight shade of pink.
"Um, yeah," said Harry, completely bemused. "Why? Is something supposed to be bothering me that I don't know about?"
Mr. Weasley let loose another small spurt of laughter.
"Well, not quite," he said, sobering up a little bit. "But I have something I need to tell you. You may not like what I have to say, but it needs to be said."
"Well, what is it?" Harry inquired. When Mr. Weasley hesitated, he said, "Well, spit it out!"
Mr. Weasley raised his head and looked right at Harry, his blue eyes piercing into him.
"Harry," he began slowly. "You're not going to believe this."