Professor, please pay the debt

Harry and Dumbledore headed for the back door of the Burrow, where old boots and rusty cauldrons were still cluttered as before.

Harry heard the soft cooing of sleeping chickens in the far shed.Dumbledore knocked three times on the door, and Harry saw a sudden movement behind the kitchen window.

"Who is it?" asked a nervous voice, which Harry recognized as Mrs. Weasley. "Give me your name!"

"It's me, Dumbledore, with Harry."

The door opened immediately.At the door stood Mrs. Weasley, a squat, squat woman in an old green dressing gown.

"Harry, dear! My God, Albus, you startled me when you said you wouldn't be here until tomorrow morning!"

"We're not bad luck..." said Dumbledore, letting Harry into the room. "Slughorn made it easy, not at all as difficult as I thought. Of course, it's all To Harry's credit. Ah, hello, Nymphadora!"

Harry looked around, only to realize that Mrs Weasley was not alone despite the late hour.

A young witch was sitting at a table, holding a large teacup in both hands.Her heart-shaped face is somewhat pale, and her hair is ash-brown.

"Hello, Professor," she said, "Hello, Harry."

"Hello, Tonks."

Harry felt that she looked haggard, even sickly, and there was some reluctance in her smile.

Her hair was no longer its usual bubblegum pink, which definitely took a toll on her look.

"I've got to go..." she said hastily, getting up and wrapping her cloak around her shoulders. "Thank you for the tea, and thank you for your comfort, Molly."

"Please don't leave because of me." Dumbledore said politely, "I can't stay long, I have something important to discuss with Rufus Scrimgeour."

"No, no, I do have to go..." Tonks said, avoiding Dumbledore's gaze, "Good night—"

"Honey, come to dinner on the weekend, Remus and Mad-Eye are coming—"

"No, Mollie, really not...Thank you very much...Good night to you all."

Tonks hurried past Dumbledore and Harry into the courtyard, descended a few steps, turned on the spot, and disappeared in a flash.Harry noticed that Mrs. Weasley looked troubled.

"Okay, see you at Hogwarts, Harry..." Dumbledore said, "Take care of yourself. Molly, just ask."

He bowed to Mrs. Weasley, followed behind Tonks, and disappeared in the same place.

There was no one in the yard, Mrs. Weasley closed the door, held Harry by the shoulders, led him to the light of the lamp on the table, and looked at him carefully.

"You're like Ron..." she said, looking him up and down, "you both seem to have a Stretching Curse. I dare say that since the last time I bought Ron's school robes, he A full four inches. Are you hungry, Harry?"

"Yeah, hungry." Harry realized that he was really hungry.

"Sit down, honey. I'll make you something to eat right now."

As soon as Harry sat down, a flat-faced, shaggy ginger cat jumped into his lap and purred on his lap.

"Hermione here too?" he asked happily, scratching the base of Crookshanks' ear.

"Yes, she came the day before yesterday." Mrs. Weasley said, tapping a large iron pot with her wand.

The iron pot jumped onto the stove with a bang, and immediately began to roll and bubble. "Of course, we're all asleep now, and we thought you'd be here in a few hours. Here—" She tapped the pan again.

The cauldron rose into the air, flying towards Harry, then lurched sideways, and Mrs Weasley hastily tucked a bowl under it, just enough to catch the thick, steaming onion soup it poured out.

"Would you like bread, dear?"

"Thank you, Mrs Weasley."

She flicked her wand over the back of her shoulder, and a piece of bread and a knife flew gracefully onto the table.

The bread was cut into slices automatically, and the soup pot flew back and landed on the stove.Mrs. Weasley sat down opposite Harry.

"So you persuaded Horace Slughorn to take the job?"

Harry nodded, his mouth full of hot soup and he couldn't speak.

"He used to teach Arthur and me," said Mrs. Weasley. "He was at Hogwarts many years ago, I think, at about the same time as Dumbledore. Do you like him?"

With his mouth full of bread again, Harry shrugged his shoulders and shook his head noncommittally.

"I see what you mean." Mrs. Weasley nodded understandingly. "It is true that he could make himself very attractive if he wanted to, but Arthur never liked him very much. There are many of them in the Ministry of Magic. As a favorite student in the past, he is always willing to give students a little trouble.

But never spent much time with Arthur - he seemed to think that Arthur had no ambitions.

Hey, that proves that even Slughorn can be mistaken.Don't know if Ron has written to tell you - it's only recently - Arthur's promoted! "

Apparently, Mrs. Weasley had been dying to talk about it.Harry quickly swallowed a big mouthful of scalding hot soup, feeling his throat was blistered.

"Great!" he gasped.

"You're so lovely," said Mrs. Weasley with a smile, and she probably thought that Harry's tears were due to the excitement of the good news, "Yeah, in response to the current situation, Rufus Scrimgeour has renewed Several departments have been set up, and Arthur is now in charge of the "Office of Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Products".This job is very important, and there are ten people under him now! "

"That's what—" "Oh, that's right, the Mysterious Man has made everyone panic, and there are people everywhere making some weird things and selling them for money, saying that they can resist the Mysterious Man and the Death Eaters.

Can you imagine that kind of thing--the so-called self-defense potion, which is actually broth with a little lymph pus, and the instruction manual of defense spells, which will actually just make you lose your ears...

Well, generally speaking, it's just people like Mundungus Fletcher who don't have a good day in their lives to do such bad things, and are now taking advantage of people's fear.

But occasionally there are real evils.Arthur confiscated a box of enchanted looking glasses that day, almost certainly placed there by a Death Eater.

So you see, it's a lot of work, and I told him it was ridiculous to think about spark plugs and toaster ovens and other Muggle crap now. "

Mrs. Weasley's eyes hardened at the end, as if Harry had suggested that the spark plugs should be remembered.

"Is Mr. Weasley still at work?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. To be honest, it's kind of late... He said he'd be back around midnight..."

She turned to look at the big clock, which looked out of place on a pile of sheets in the laundry basket by the table.

Harry recognized it immediately: it had nine hands, each with the name of a member of the family engraved on it, and it usually hung on the wall of the Weasleys' living room.

It was here now, so Mrs. Weasley took it with her wherever she went in the house.Right now, those nine needles point to mortal danger.

"It's been like this for a while..." Mrs. Weasley said in a tone of put-on understatement, but it wasn't like, "It's been like that since You-Know-Who made a public comeback. I think everyone is In mortal danger...couldn't be just our family...but I don't know anyone who still has a clock like this so can't check. Oh!"

She screamed suddenly and pointed to the clock face.Mr. Weasley's needle suddenly jumped to the road.

"He is back!"

Sure enough, a moment later, there was a knock on the back door.Mrs. Weasley jumped to his feet and hurried to the door to open it.She took the knob with her hand, pressed her face against the wooden door, and called softly, "Arthur, is that you?"

"Yes..." came Mr Weasley's weary voice from outside the door, "but if I were a Death Eater, I'd say the same, dear. Ask questions!"

"Oh, honestly..." "Molly!" "Okay, okay...what's your biggest ambition?"