At the Burrow, Harry’s days were growing more exciting with each passing moment. The Weasley family was always full of life, and Harry was becoming more comfortable with his new world of magic. But it wasn’t just his own family that made life interesting—he also enjoyed visiting the neighbors. One of his favorite visits was to Cedric Diggory’s house.

  Cedric lived not too far from the Weasleys, and Harry often made the trip to the Diggorys' home when he wanted a change of pace. Cedric, who was a couple of years older, was always kind and ready to share his toys and magical objects. Mrs. Diggory, warm and welcoming, found Harry absolutely adorable, often offering him homemade treats and fussing over him in a way that made him feel quite special.

  "Harry, dear, you’re growing so fast," Mrs. Diggory said as she handed him a pte of cookies. "Cedric’s always excited when you come over."

  Harry grinned, appreciating the attention. He liked spending time with Cedric, who was a good role model and someone who made magic seem even more exciting. Cedric often showed Harry various magical items his family owned—a miniature enchanted broomstick that hovered just above the ground, a magical chessboard where the pieces moved of their own accord, and even a mirror that gave different reflections depending on the mood of the person looking into it.

  "Look at this," Cedric said one afternoon, holding up a strange-looking orb. "It’s called a Remembrall. It glows red when you’ve forgotten something."

  Harry was fascinated, watching as Cedric’s Remembrall faintly glowed, though Cedric just ughed it off, saying he was always forgetting to finish his homework.

  But it wasn’t just the Diggorys that Harry visited. He also enjoyed spending time with the Lovegoods, even though the Lovegood house was an entirely different kind of experience.

  Luna Lovegood and her father were neighbors as well, and their home was unlike any Harry had ever seen. It was filled with all manner of odd magical items—trumpet horns that pyed themselves, strange gss orbs that hummed with magical energy, and shelves filled with books on the most peculiar topics. The walls were decorated with moving paintings of creatures Harry had never heard of, and the entire house had a whimsical, almost otherworldly feel to it.

  Luna’s father, Xenophilius Lovegood, was just as strange as his daughter, always talking about magical creatures and phenomena that didn’t make much sense to most people. But Harry liked him. There was something comforting about the way the Lovegoods saw the world, even if it was a little strange.

  "Did you know, Harry, that nargles are most active during the full moon?" Xenophilius said one day, as he showed Harry a bizarre-looking horn that made strange musical notes when you tapped it. "They’re invisible, of course, but Luna and I are sure we’ve seen signs of them all over our property."

  Harry didn’t know what nargles were, but he smiled and nodded, enjoying the stories. Luna, always cheerful, would chime in with her own odd facts, her eyes wide with excitement. "Oh yes, they like to hide in mistletoe. We should be careful when the holidays come around."

  Only Ginny ever wanted to come with Harry to the Lovegoods’ house. The other Weasleys found the Lovegoods too strange for their liking, but Ginny didn’t seem to mind. She liked Luna, and though she found some of the Lovegoods’ stories bizarre, she appreciated how different they were.

  "Everyone else thinks they’re a bit odd," Ginny whispered to Harry one day as they wandered through the Lovegoods' garden, "but I think they’re wonderful."

  The Lovegoods’ property was full of strange, magical pnts—some that hummed softly, others that glowed faintly in the dark. Harry and Ginny often spent hours exploring the garden, touching the odd leaves and flowers, marveling at how different everything was from the Burrow’s more ordinary vegetable garden.

  "Look at this one," Luna said one afternoon, holding up a spiky, glowing flower. "It’s called a Lunaschade. It blooms only under the light of the moon."

  Harry and Ginny were fascinated. The pnts in the Lovegoods’ garden seemed to have minds of their own, swaying as if they were aware of their surroundings. It was magical in a way that Harry hadn’t experienced before, and he found himself returning to the Lovegoods' home again and again, eager for more stories and discoveries.

  Though some found the Lovegoods eccentric, to Harry, their house was a treasure trove of wonder, and he was more than happy to indulge in their magical world. Whether it was pying with Cedric’s enchanted toys or exploring the Lovegoods’ strange garden, Harry found himself more and more enchanted with the magical world he was now a part of. And with every visit, he felt more at home.

  One crisp morning, as Arthur Weasley stood in front of the children gathered at the Burrow, he made an announcement that piqued everyone’s attention. "Only those who help out with the farming are allowed to come with me to the Muggle world for selling at the farmer’s market and, of course, exploring the Muggle world."

  That simple statement was enough to stir excitement in every Weasley child. They all immediately volunteered to help out on the family farm. Even Harry, who had been spending most of his time pying with Cedric Diggory or visiting the Lovegoods, was eager to join in the effort. The idea of visiting the Muggle world outside of his usual haunts thrilled him, especially because he’d never really experienced Muggle life.

  The Burrow’s farm had various crops, and each of the Weasleys took on their tasks with enthusiasm. Harry, eager to prove himself and get a chance to explore more of the Muggle world, chose to pnt and care for the carrot patch, a rge section of the garden where the bright orange vegetables sprouted in neat rows. The work was tiring, but it felt rewarding to see his efforts grow.

  But one day, Harry’s farming efforts took an unexpected turn.

  It was te afternoon, and Harry was tending to his carrot patch when he noticed something strange. The once-thriving pnts were beginning to wither in certain spots, and when he bent down to investigate, he saw tiny, wriggling creatures—magical pests that had infested his section of the garden. These pests were notorious for ruining crops quickly, and Harry could already see the damage they had done. Half of his carrots were eaten through, and the sight of his hard work being destroyed filled him with frustration.

  Harry clenched his fists, his face flushed with anger. He wanted to get rid of the pests, but he didn’t know how. His thoughts raced, and before he could think clearly, something extraordinary happened.

  Without warning, the ground beneath the carrot patch seemed to stir. Harry felt a strange surge of energy within him, and suddenly, all of the pests—the bugs, worms, and creatures responsible for the damage—rose from the ground, swirling in the air before gathering in a heap in front of him.

  Harry gasped, his eyes wide with shock. He had no idea what had just happened, but the entire infestation was now collected in a neat pile, right in front of him. He stood frozen, unable to comprehend what he had just done.

  Arthur Weasley, who had been nearby, rushed over to see what was happening. When he saw the mass of pests in front of Harry, his eyes widened in surprise. "Merlin’s beard, Harry!" he excimed. With a swift wave of his wand, Arthur dispatched the pests, banishing them from the garden. He turned to Harry, his expression a mixture of awe and pride.

  "You did that, didn’t you?" Arthur asked, a smile slowly forming on his face. "That was accidental magic."

  Harry stared at Arthur, feeling a rush of emotions. "Accidental magic?" he repeated, unsure whether to be excited or nervous.

  Arthur nodded, still smiling. "Yes, Harry. It happens sometimes, especially when a young wizard feels strong emotions. You summoned those pests right out of the ground!"

  Harry couldn’t believe it. Ever since learning he was a wizard, he had been waiting for something like this to happen—something that would truly confirm that he belonged in this magical world. And now, it had. He had done magic without even realizing it, and in front of everyone.

  News of Harry’s accidental magic spread quickly, and the Weasley family gathered that evening for a small celebration. Molly Weasley cooked up a feast, and the atmosphere in the Burrow was one of excitement and pride. It was Harry’s first magical outburst since the incident at Privet Drive, and this time, he didn’t feel confused or worried about it. Instead, he felt special, surrounded by people who were just as thrilled as he was.

  "You’re officially a wizard now, Harry!" Fred teased, ruffling Harry’s hair.

  "Not bad, Harry," George added. "Summoning pests is a start. Next, you’ll be summoning broomsticks and flying around like a pro."

  Ginny, who had always admired Harry, looked at him with wide, shining eyes. "You were amazing, Harry," she said sincerely, and Harry couldn’t help but smile.

  That night, as they sat around the dinner table, everyone raised their gsses in a toast to Harry’s first confirmed magical feat. Even Ron, who had always been Harry’s closest friend and brother in the Weasley household, beamed with pride.

  Harry, for the first time, felt like he truly belonged in this world. The sense of being special, of having something powerful inside him, was no longer just a thought—it was real, and he had shown it. That night, as he y in bed, Harry thought about what other kinds of magic he might be capable of. The possibilities seemed endless.

  Despite what his brothers thought, Harry didn’t care about their teasing. Helping out in the kitchen was something he enjoyed, especially because it gave him time with Molly, the woman who had become a mother to him. For Harry, the simple act of being in the kitchen felt special—he had never imagined he would ever have someone to call "mom," and now that he did, he was determined to show his appreciation.

  At the Dursleys’, cooking had been a chore forced upon him, something he had to do under the threat of punishment. But at the Burrow, cooking was different. It was fun. Molly always had a warm smile on her face as she prepared meals, and she used magic to make everything easier. Ingredients floated across the room, knives chopped vegetables on their own, and pots stirred themselves on the stove.

  Even though Harry wasn’t allowed to practice magic yet, Molly didn’t hesitate to teach him the spells and wand movements she used. He didn’t have a wand, but he carefully memorized every incantation and wand flick, hoping that one day he would be able to do the same. In the meantime, Harry learned to cook the Muggle way, feeling that it was a useful skill to have, whether he had magic or not.

  Molly was more than happy to teach Harry. She was patient with him, showing him how to knead dough, chop vegetables, and season food just right. They would often spend afternoons in the kitchen together, with the warm smells of fresh bread and soup filling the air. For Harry, this time was invaluable—it wasn’t just about cooking, but about bonding with someone who genuinely cared for him.

  Ginny and Luna often joined them in the kitchen. Ginny, who was just as eager to learn as Harry, was always by her mother’s side, watching closely as Molly showed her how to bake pies or make her famous pumpkin pasties. Luna, who visited the Burrow frequently, had her own unique approach to cooking, often suggesting odd combinations of ingredients that somehow worked. Her airy, dreamy voice would chime in with thoughts about magical creatures and odd bits of wisdom while they worked, making the kitchen feel even more lively.

  Harry enjoyed their company. Ginny was cheerful and always ready to ugh, while Luna brought a sense of calm and wonder to the room. Together, they made cooking feel like an adventure.

  One afternoon, as they baked a batch of treacle tart—Harry’s favorite—Molly gnced at Harry and smiled warmly. "You’ve got a real talent for this, Harry. I reckon you could give the house-elves at Hogwarts a run for their money."

  Harry beamed with pride. He had never been complimented like that before, and it filled him with a deep sense of belonging. Here, in the warmth of the Burrow’s kitchen, with Molly guiding him and Ginny and Luna by his side, Harry felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time—home.

  As the weeks passed, Harry grew more confident in his cooking skills. He learned how to make all sorts of magical dishes, from Molly’s famous meat pies to delicate chocote frogs. Even though his brothers still teased him, calling him "Mum’s little helper," Harry didn’t mind. He knew that this time spent in the kitchen with Molly and the girls was something special—something that couldn’t be taken away.

  And deep down, he knew that no matter what, he would always cherish these moments, not just for the food, but for the family that came with it.