The Son of Mystery - Harry Potter Male Insert

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Y/N and Harry approached the back door of the Burrow, which was surrounded by the familiar litter of old Wellington boots and rusty cauldrons; Y/N could hear the soft clucking of sleepy chickens coming from a distant shed. Y/N knocked three times and Harry saw sudden movement behind the kitchen window.

"Who's there?" said a nervous voice he recognized as Mrs. Weasley's. "Declare yourself!"

"It's us, Mrs. Weasley," said Y/N. "Dumbledore's already gone, but I've got Harry."

The door opened at once. There stood Mrs. Weasley, short, plump, and wearing an old green dressing gown.

"Boys! Gracious, you gave me a fright, Albus said not to expect you before morning!"

"Evidentially, we were ahead of schedule," said Y/N. "Hey, Tonks."

Y/N looked over Mrs. Weasley's shoulder to see a familiar, young witch with a pale, heart shaped face and mousy brown hair was sitting at the table clutching a large mug between her hands.

"Wotcher, boys."
"Hi, Tonks." Harry said.

Y/N thought she looked drawn, even ill, and there was something forced in her smile. Certainly her appearance was less colourful than usual without her customary shade of bubble-gum-pink hair.

"I'd better be off," she said quickly, standing up and pulling her cloak around her shoulders. "Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Molly."

"Don't leave just because we came back," Y/N said quickly, eyeing Tonks. "If you're talking about Sirius-"

"No, no, I need to get going," said Tonks, not meeting Y/N's eyes. " 'Night —"

"Dear, why not come to dinner at the weekend, Remus and Mad-Eye are coming — ?"

"No, really, Molly . . . thanks anyway . . . Good night, everyone."

Tonks hurried past Y/N and Harry into the yard; a few paces beyond the doorstep, she turned on the spot and vanished into thin air. Y/N noticed that Mrs. Weasley looked troubled.

"You're like Ron," she sighed, looking Harry up and down. "All three of you look as though you've had Stretching Jinxes put on you. I swear Ron's grown four inches since I last bought him school robes. Are you hungry, boys?"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry, suddenly realizing just how hungry he was.

"Not particularly," said Y/N quietly. His appetite for food had shortened considerably since the events of the summer.

"Sit down, I'll knock something up."

As Harry sat down, a furry ginger cat with a squashed face jumped onto his knees and settled there, purring. Y/N looked at the cat, startled.

"When did Hermione get here?" Y/N asked.

"Oh yes, she arrived the day before yesterday," said Mrs. Weasley, rapping a large iron pot with her wand. It bounced onto the stove with a loud clang and began to bubble at once. "Everyone's in bed, of course, we didn't expect you for hours. Here you are —"

Y/N felt a pang of guilt. He had been in Percy's old room for so long that he hadn't even realised he had been living in the same house as one of his closest friends for two days.

She tapped the pot again; it rose into the air, flew toward Harry, and tipped over; Mrs. Weasley slid a bowl neatly beneath it just in time to catch the stream of thick, steaming onion soup. It then did the same for Y/N.

"Bread, dear?"
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."

She waved her wand over her shoulder; a loaf of bread and a knife soared gracefully onto the table; as the loaf sliced itself and the soup pot dropped back onto the stove, Mrs. Weasley sat down opposite him.