Harry Potter Returns from Baldur's Gate

As soon as Harry finished speaking, he received a warm hug that was no less warm than the one Black had just received.

"Oh~ poor child, welcome to the Burrow."

Although he didn't understand why Mrs. Weasley called him a poor child, Harry still gave Mrs. Weasley a polite smile.

Then he took out a gift that Harry had prepared long ago from his robes, three puppets in boxes that could help with housework.

Harry felt that nothing could be more suitable for a large family like the Weasleys except house-elves.

"My dear! You are very kind! But this..."

After Mrs. Weasley took the box and saw the doll inside, her expression changed instantly.

"Please don't reject me, okay? Mrs. Weasley, your son is my friend, and you have given me the most precious gift."

Harry opened his coat, revealing the red sweater with an 'H' on it.

"Okay... okay, young man... don't stand outside, come in..."

Mrs. Weasley wiped her eyes with her hand, held the box in one hand, put her arm around Harry's shoulder with the other, and led Harry and Black into the Burrow.

The kitchen was small and rather crowded, with a well-scrubbed wooden table and a few chairs in the middle.

Harry sat on the chair and looked around. This place felt completely different from the residences of all spellcasters in Harry's impression.

The wall clock on the opposite wall has only one needle and no numbers. On the clock there are words like "make tea", "feed the chickens", "you're going to be late".

There are three layers of books on the mantel: "Enchant Your Cheese", "The Magic of Baking Bread", "Creating a Feast" and other magic books related to housework.

"Don't be polite, just treat it as your own home. Have you had breakfast?"

Mrs. Weasley walked to the stove and continued frying sausages in the pan. She raised her head and shouted upstairs, "Arthur! Ginny! Come down quickly! There are guests at home!"

Then, without further ado, he brought two plates and gave Harry and Black each a large sausage.

The sausage was fried to perfection, with a crispy exterior and spice-rich filling. Even though Harry had already had breakfast, he was ready to stuff the sausage into his stomach to avoid wasting food.

"You have a good soul, and you smell like sunshine."

Just as Harry was munching on the sausage, a disembodied voice sounded behind him.

Startled, Harry turned his head and looked behind him, and saw a petite girl with long flaming red hair standing behind him.

The only difference from her flaming hair was that her brown eyes looked like embers without fire, pale and empty.

087 I am... catnip?

Being stared at by Ginny's empty eyes made Harry feel uncomfortable.

It was as if even though Harry had faced countless monsters and villains, none of them felt as oppressive as when facing Ginny.

The feeling Ginny gave Harry was completely different from those villains and monsters.

Unlike those monsters that bring death and destruction, in Harry's feeling, Ginny is the embodiment of death and destruction, or she is destruction itself.

After seeing Ginny, Harry activated his celestial perception without hesitation. If Ginny in front of him was a threat, then Harry was ready to fulfill his duties as a paladin.

However, in the perception of the heavens, Ginny's entire body was glowing, the kind of warm and soft light that only people of order and kindness would emit.

Even as a seasoned adventurer, Harry had never seen anyone so dazzling.

Even among the paladins of Tyr and Lathander, who represented justice and hope, Harry had never seen such a level of light.

Perhaps only those who have saved the world, or even saved the world more than once, can shine so brightly.

Even from the day he learned the skill of divine perception, the paladin predecessors including the Knight Commander had repeatedly told Harry that divine perception was only a technical means and that one should look at a person with the heart rather than with skills.

However, facing the contradictory existence of Ginny in front of him, Harry, as a seasoned adventurer, still felt confused and didn't know what kind of existence he was facing.

Just as Harry was looking at Ginny in surprise, Ginny's ethereal voice sounded in Harry's ears.

"Don't be afraid, I just like the breath of your soul. I have no ill intentions. If you don't mind, I want to stand here."

Faced with the request from someone who might have saved the world, the ethereal look in Ginny's eyes made Harry instinctively feel a hint of fear from the depths of his soul.

This fear was as if Harry was facing some kind of natural enemy.

Even when Harry faced the dragon for the first time and felt the dragon's might from the top of the food chain, he was not so frightened.

However, at this moment Harry had no reason to refuse.

So Harry could only nod to Ginny, then turned around and tried to finish the remaining half of sausage on his plate, using food to soothe his fear.

"Ginny means no harm, she just likes being around other people sometimes."

Seeing Harry turning around, Mrs. Weasley explained to him nervously.

"It's okay, I don't mind."

Harry smiled at Mrs. Weasley and went back to eating the small piece of sausage on his plate.

"Sirius! Long time no see! How are you, old buddy?"

Just as Harry was working on the sausage, a tall and thin man with glasses walked into the kitchen. He also had red hair, but the once lush red hair had now retreated to the sidelines like the hair of other British people.

If nothing unexpected happened, this man who completely fits Harry's stereotype of British middle-aged men is Ron and Ginny's father, Mr. Weasley.

When Mr. Weasley came into the kitchen and saw Sirius, he opened his arms warmly to him.

"It couldn't be better, old fellow."

Sirius put his fork down and walked forward to embrace Mr. Weasley warmly.

The two patted each other on the back before reluctantly letting go of each other.

"Who is this?"

Mr. Weasley turned his gaze upon Harry.

Harry quickly swallowed the last of his sausage, then stood up from his chair and saluted Mr. Weasley with the same formal etiquette as he had done to Mrs. Weasley.

"Good morning, Mr. Weasley, I'm Harry Potter, Ron's friend. He hasn't come back from Hogwarts, so I took the liberty of coming to visit."

"Don't be presumptuous, don't be presumptuous, just treat this place as your own home."

Mr. Weasley came over and held out his hand, which Harry shook warmly.

But as they were shaking hands, Mr. Weasley suddenly raised his eyebrows at Harry.

"Harry, I heard that you grew up in a Muggle family..."

"Arthur!"

Mrs. Weasley interrupted Mr. Weasley before he could finish.

"Don't ask Harry about those Muggle things, he's a guest!"

"Well, Molly..."

Arthur, who was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley, looked at Mrs. Weasley with a flattering smile on her face.

"But I have a question that has been bothering me for a long time. I promise it's just two questions... One! I promise it's just one question!"

"Arthur!"

When Mrs. Weasley held a shovel, put her hands on her hips and glared at Mr. Weasley, as if she wanted to use the spatula to pry open his skull to see what was inside his head.

Black stood up and placed himself between Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley.

"Okay, Arthur, if you have any questions, I'll go and help you. You know I know a lot about Muggle things."

"Oh, that's perfect. Come and help me figure out what this carburetor is."

Arthur dragged Blake out of the kitchen.

Looking at Black and Arthur leaving the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley, with her hands on her hips, shook her head and sighed.

"Always like this, obsessed with those Muggle things. If he wasn't like this, he wouldn't be confined to his small department in the Ministry."

Although she complained, Mrs. Weasley seemed to have long been accustomed to Mr. Weasley's eccentricity. When she turned her head to look at Harry, a smile was on her face.

"Would you like another sausage, dear?"

Although the big greasy sausages fried by Mrs. Weasley looked very appetizing.

But Harry, who had already eaten much more than normal for breakfast today, really couldn't eat any more.

After being rejected by Harry, Mrs. Weasley was not angry, but said to Harry, "This is your first time here, let Ginny show you around. Will you stay for lunch?"

Although this sentence is written as a question, it is obvious that Mrs. Weasley's tone is not what a question should be.

The spatula in his hand seemed to hint at what would happen if Harry didn't stay for lunch.

So Harry nodded and said he would stay for lunch.

Immediately, a smile appeared on Mrs. Weasley's face.

With a wave of the spatula in his hand, he was like a general ordering his soldiers to charge, and asked Ginny to take Harry around.

Ginny obediently took Harry for a walk in the Burrow.

Looking at the interior structure of the Burrow, Harry became more and more convinced that the Burrow was a house built with magic.

After all, even with Harry's limited knowledge of engineering, he could see that without magical reinforcement, Muggles could still build such a house and live in it.

Newton would probably run out of the cemetery overnight, strangle the construction team one by one, and then lie down again to save physics.

Although it is a house built with magic, there is actually nothing worth seeing in the Burrow.

Most of the children's rooms had their doors closed, and Harry could only follow Ginny down the narrow stairs of the Burrow.

"You seem a little anxious and uneasy."

When Harry and Ginny walked up to the second floor of the Burrow, Ginny suddenly turned around and looked at Harry.

"why?"

Looking at Ginny's ethereal eyes, although he knew through the celestial perception that Ginny was a noble person, a pure person, a person who was free from vulgarity.

But the abyss-like attraction in those calm eyes still made Harry feel uneasy and fearful.

"do not be afraid……"

Ginny looked at Harry with her empty, deep, deathly calm eyes, and reached out her right hand to gently stroke Harry's face.

Unlike Ginny's eyes that made Harry feel uneasy, when Ginny's hand touched Harry's face, Harry did not feel the coldness and wetness of death as he had expected.