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An (Un)Eventful Christmas Night | 28

Molly Weasley sighed in utter frustration, placing her hands on her hips. Her frown was indicative of the situation before her very own eyes. "Why do you three hate haircuts so much?" She whined. "You two especially have started looking like Ginny."

Her victims were no other than her two oldest sons and Harry, who sat right next to each other on the family table, which proved to be a grave mistake. Bill and Charlie with their ponytails and Harry with his messy bun instantly attracted her unwanted attention.

"You make it sound like it's a bad thing," Ginny commented as she weaved her wand, placing plates across the table.

"You're not helping," Molly scolded her.

"I wasn't trying to."

Harry couldn't help but snicker behind his palm. On the other hand, her brothers made no effort to hide their amusement. Suddenly, Teddy Lupin's head emerged behind Harry's chair, offering a toothless smile. "Well, I like uncle Harry's hair just fine," he declared.

Harry ruffled his turquoise hair. "Thanks, buddy."

Molly's expression softened instantly. The battle was lost, but knowing Molly, she wouldn't be defeated in this war so easily. She removed her apron from her waist and took a seat near her husband at the top of the table. They were almost ready to start. They were waiting for two more people to complete the gathering.

Harry lingered at the kitchen door. Athena had left a little while ago to pick up her mother. They hadn't had the chance to talk yet, although Harry intended to. But with Charlie's arrival and the Christmas dinner on the way, the opportunity hadn't appeared. He knew he ought to explain himself to her. And he also knew it was time to stop sulking too.

There was a knock on the front door and Molly jumped from her seat. She moved quickly behind all the already occupied chairs and rushed to the hall. Harry heard muffled voices and footsteps before Athena appeared, her hair covered in snow. Behind her another woman followed, much smaller than her. She looked so fragile that Harry was scared that if anyone blew air at her, she would vanish into thin air. Her face shared the same shape as Athena's and her eyes shone a bright grey color despite the bags hanging under them. That woman was unmistakably Athena's mother. They looked so much alike, Harry thought. The only difference was that Athena had darker colors than her mother, courtesy of her father perhaps. Molly Weasley was the last to enter, making the appropriate introductions. The Wilsons sat on the far end of the table, next to Charlie. Athena made a face that Harry couldn't quite define what it was but didn't say anything.

With the last visitors there, the feast began with a heartfelt toast from Arthur Weasley. Several glasses of firewhiskey and pumpkin juice were raised and wishes were exchanged before everyone dug in. Harry's heart warmed watching Ginny help Teddy with his meal.

"Harry, I've heard you got yourself into some trouble," Ron, nudged his arm. He and Hermione were sitting on Harry's left.

"More like, trouble found me. Again," Harry corrected his best friend, stabbing a potato with his fork.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked.

Harry glanced up at Ginny. "Yep. I'm fine. Nothing too serious." He averted his gaze to his best friends. "How are you though? Blimey mate, you look exhausted."

Indeed, Ron looked rough. The dark circles were visible, despite his better efforts to hide them. "Ah, well. Robards has been keeping us overtime. I'll let you know about it later," he promised.

Harry nodded. From his other side, he heard a soft female voice. "Do you need help, love?"

"No, mum. I'm fine," Athena said through gritted teeth. Harry noticed how she was struggling to use her knife because she desperately tried to avoid touching Charlie's arm. The whole ordeal was hilarious at best. He couldn't quite wrap his finger around the lurking awkwardness, but if he had his suspicions before, then he was certain that these two definitely had something going on. It was none of his business, of course, but he sympathized with her.