It had been years since the First Wizarding War, the Prewetts dying out, Molly and her children being the only living family members left, and that broke Molly’s heart, knowing her entire family had been killed altogether.

Until a year ago - when she learned she had a nephew or niece, who hadn’t technically specified their name nor age - but they were a Prewett, that much was sure. They’d been three when the War ended, and had been safe with their mother during the mass murder.

And every single Weasley in the Burrow was nervous now, because you were finally visiting them, as a long lost cousin of some sort on their maternal side, with you technically were, that was the best word for it.

Until the door opened.