Harry Potter was not sure what the big deal about that night was.
He did know, however, that Missus Weasley had been running around the house all week, cleaning, cooking, and worrying. She was obsessing over things she'd never cared about before, wining about every single blemish in the house. Over and over she would scold the inhabitants to be on their best behavior, clean and polished, for the night that had finally approached.
Harry was surprised the red-headed mother hadn't fainted by now. The image made him chuckle slightly, but not enough to distract anybody else from their work.
Because Harry was just about the only one in the house who didn't have a job to complete.
"Mate, why don't you have to do any work?" Ron complained one night, scowling.
"Dunno," Harry mumbled. "All your mum said was that it was 'my night too,' but I can't imagine…" Harry trailed off. In truth, he was disturbed by the special way he was being treated. Missus Weasley had always had a soft spot for him, but never before had she excluded him from cleaning. He was part of the family and therefore was part of the chore list.
The idea that this fact had changed bothered Harry more than it should have. Anybody else would have been thankful, but Harry wondered if he was overstaying his welcome. For certain Ron was feeling bothered, but he said nothing out of the ordinary complaints.
So when the Weasley family plus was seated at their oversized table, waiting for their surprise guests, Harry could not help himself from staring anxiously towards the doorway.
And when there was a knock on the door, Harry couldn't help himself from standing to great his visitors.
The first person Harry saw made him snarl.
"Potter," came the voice of the intruder, glaring angrily.
"Draco, shut up! You knew he was going to be here, why we're here. Plus, this is excellent practice," said the girl beside him. Harry eyed her carefully, distracting his attention from Malfoy. She had blonde hair, very close to Malfoy's, and they also shared similar blue eyes.
There was nothing special about her, really, other than the fact that she was quite pretty. The only noted qualities, Harry mused, was the way she clutched Malfoy's hand fiercely, turning the blonde male's skin an ugly red. Her relations to the situation, however, were unknown.
Missus Weasley cleared her throat before speaking. "I'm sorry-"
"Please, don't be," interrupted the only adult. Her voice was smooth and welcoming. "We're a very strange group here. It's only expected a little fighting occurs," she laughed.
"Yes, well, I suppose I should introduce you all?" Missus Weasley suggested, but waited for no answer. "This is Stacey, she works in the palace."
Harry raised an eyebrow in curiosity. What was a somebody from the palace doing here?
"Like the King and Queen?" Ron questioned.
"Yes," Missus Weasley said sternly, throwing him a look. "And this is her-" Missus Weasley froze then, staring desperately at her husband.
"Lillian and Bridget," Stacey added, smiling. She pointed to the two girls in order. Bridget was the blonde by Draco and Lillian a girl beside her. Harry watched her carefully as she smiled a tentative smile, brushing a lock of striking red hair behind her ear. For some reason the girl would not meet his eye.
"And you all know Draco," Missus Weasley added finally, averting her eyes. Apparently, Draco was not expected to come.
"I'm sorry for Draco and Bridget. Lillian insisted her best friend come and Bridget can't do anything without her cousin these days," Stacey breathed, frowning slightly.
So they were cousins, Harry thought cautiously. He became immersed in his thoughts as the Weasley's continued to introduce their family, and even though Harry was closest and standing, she saved him for last.
"And this is Harry," she choked, but not out of nerves. There was something strange going on.
"Hi," Lillian stated, walking forward to shake his hand. Her skin was warm, but sweaty, and she had a strangely familiar look about her. She looked like somebody he knew, but he could think of nobody who shared her features.
Then, suddenly, Bridget was walking hesitantly towards him. He held out his hand politely and she took it, staring at their connected limbs sadly. The room seemed to freeze as they touched, more anxious than before. The tension could have been cut with a knife.
"I'm sorry!" Bridget exclaimed, breaking the silence as she stared at his forehead. "I'm sorry, Lillian," she continued, breaking away. Her eyes lit up with fear as she faced the red-head. "I can't do this. I thought I could, but I can't. I-I have to go."
She was gone. She had ran, faster than he thought possible, leaving the rest of them in awkward silence.
"That's Bridget for you," Malfoy muttered. This angered Harry, though he did not know the girl. Just about anything that prat said angered Harry, though.
"Malfoy," he said warningly.
"No, Harry, he's right," Lillian interjected sadly. "She gets scared and runs. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought her."
Harry stared at the stranger for a moment, wondering exactly why they were here and why exactly so many people were nervous about their presence, especially around him. He was tired of dancing around introductions. It was time for answers.
"Who are you?"