The Burrow looked plainer than she'd remembered. Familiar, yet deadened. The sparkles she'd once imagined were gone.
Was growing up always like this?
She eased the door open and a note lay on the table. She picked it up and scanned it.
Thought we'd let you sleep in. Took Fred and George shopping. Won't be gone too long.
She pulled herself up the stairs, tugging on the banister. The hallway was decorated a wee different, leaving her with an unsettling feeling as she escaped into her room.
Even her room looked odd.
Ginny sighed and flopped onto the bed.
"Mmmph-ouch!"
She shrieked and pushed the foreign object to the floor. "Out! Out! Out!"
A bewildered Harry Potter stared up at her.
"You aren't supposed to be back for a few days yet."
"What are you doing here?" she sputtered.
"Erm, well," he blinked, "since you were going to be away, your mum decided I could sleep in your bed. Have been since you left."
"Oh," she said, feeling slightly foolish. "Well, get out anyway. It's my bed and I want to sleep."
"Ginny!" shouted Mrs. Weasley, suddenly materializing in the doorway. "That's no way to treat a guest!"
"'Sok, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said with a reassuring smile. "I mean, it is her room and all, and she didn't know-"
"I am very disappointed in you," she said, clucking her tongue.
Ginny resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"I think I'll just.. um... walk down the hallway for a second." Harry exited hastily.
"Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley called, spinning around in the doorway. "Arthur, did you buy me those plantains?"
"Yes, Molly, they're in the kitchen."
"Oh, famous," she said, and giddily whished out of the room and down the stairs.
"Mum's certainly acting weird," Ginny murmured, rubbing her eyes.
"Hoi hoi, Gin," said a voice from nowhere.
"George?" she said bemusedly, looking around. Finally, she spotted her brother, hanging upside down outside the window.
"McGehee," he corrected. "I've decided to forsake wizardry and become a repairman."
"And why the change of name?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.
"McGehee sounds so much more romantic, don't you think?" he said impishly, then looked at his watch. "Well, the primer's done. Gotta return to my work."
He flipped out of view and she shook her head in dismay. It was possible that the house had grown even stranger since her departure.
"Shit-kickers," Fred said with great interest as he passed by in the hallway.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she said irritably, clomping out to follow him.
"Your shoes," he explained, shrugging. "They're called shit-kickers."
She looked injured and stared down at her boots. "I don't care what they're called. Bill bought them for me and I like them."
"I'm just saying that they're called shit-kickers, is all-"
"I don't care what shit-kicking similar shoes have done in the past, these are going to start some ass-kicking if you don't stop," she flared.
"Sheesh," he said, putting up his hands in surrender. "I was just making an observation."
Things had calmed down after lunch, so Ginny went into her bedroom and Mrs. Weasley followed, explicitly forbidding anyone from entering.
"Sit down, dear," she said, the warmth of her mother's voice being somewhat contradicted as she slammed the door.
Ginny obeyed. Something told her this was not going to be fun.
"Oh, dearie me," she sighed, patting her hair in a fluster. "I've never had to give the talk to a daughter before." She pursed her lips, then said hesitantly, "When a man and a woman really love each other-" She coughed nervously. "Er, and, um... boys and girls are different..."
Ginny waited expectantly. Of course she knew what sex was, she had six brothers. Perhaps this would be more fun than she thought...
"Hold on," Molly said, whipping a plantain out of her pocket. She peeled it and waved it in front of her. "A beautiful piece of fruit, eh?"
"I guess," she remarked dubiously.
"Anyone would want it," Molly began.
"You mean any girl?"
Molly cocked her head. "Why do you say that?"
"Well, unless they were flaming," Ginny said after a second. "It looks like a wang, Mum."
Her mother's cheeks flamed. "It most certainly does not! And we do not use such vulgar language in this house!"
Ginny, however, vividly remembered Fred and George's "My Wang's Bigger Than Your Wang" song, so she mentally begged to differ.
"Maybe this isn't such a good example," Molly sighed. "I think I need to sit down."
A knock came at the door. "Mother? I brought you some tea?"
"Go away, Mum said you guys couldn't come in," Ginny snapped, even as their mother said, "Oh, that sounds lovely, Percy."
Ginny scowled.
"Is it raining out?" queried Percy with a frown.
"No," Ginny said blandly, "McGehee's throwing water off the roof."
"Huh," he said. "It really looks like it's raining out in the garden."
"Atmospheric disturbance," she said sarcastically.
"I'm not feeling very well, Percy," Molly said wearily. "I need to take a wee nap back in my room. Do you suppose you could give Ginny the rest of the talk?"
Percy nodded briskly, handed her the tea, and ushered her out of the room.
As soon as the elder was out of earshot, Percy was all about business. "I'm sure you know that sex makes babies, so I suggest you control those urges. You are not ready for a baby, and that is that." He narrowed his eyes. "And don't talk to me about protection. No spell works one hundred percent of the time."
Ginny lifted her head and began to examine the ceiling. Were the bumps going in or going out? Was it spiky or merely indented? Closing her left eye, it was going in, but closing her right, it was out. She experimented more with the phenomenon and let Percy's babbling wash over her.
"-and Charlie is not a good role model, either! Just because they use Muggle protection in addition to spells does not mean that they're safe! You just watch! One day, Beatrix will end up pregnant, and who'll be running to the responsible brother for a loan? Yes, indeed, you heed my words- or you'll be sorry. And another thing-"
"Percy," she interrupted, "Shut up."
"Ginny!" he exclaimed in outrage. His eyebrows shot up and did a very Percy-like wiggle. "That is completely inappropriate!"
"I think," she said, tapping her nose, "you're just bitter that you and Penelope never reached the stage that Charlie and Trix are at."
"You mean that perpetual state of sin?" he demanded, huffing his cheeks. An ominous wiggle of his eyebrows accompanied the motion. "I refuse to believe that you find me on the same level of that lazy, supremely-"
"Content brother," she cut in. "Give it up, Perce. If Penny wanted it, you'd give in like the wind blowing over a reed."
Her brother's skin matched his hair for a moment. Obviously ordering was not working, so he switched to pleading. "Come now, Gin, I'm just saying. Don't get involved with guys like that too soon. No matter how careful you think you are, there's always the off-chance that you said one word wrong in the spell, or that your charm isn't made to last. I mean, look at Mom."
"Look at Mom, what?" she said warily. "She wanted kids, she got them."
"Well, certainly not now," he said reasonably. "I mean, here she is, approaching the top of the proverbial hill, and due in January."
Ginny froze. "Due? What?"
"Mum's pregnant, Ginny. Surely you knew that," said he, confused.
"She can't be pregnant- she's old!" Ginny shoved an inoffensive book off of her desk.
"Still of childbearing age," Percy said helpfully. "It's not terribly uncommon these days. In fact, more and more women are having children in their forties. Statistics from the Ministry show-"
"Shut up, Percy!" she snapped.
"You know," he said, sniffing. "You're not very nice anymore. I don't have to put up with this abuse."
"Then leave," she said with a dangerous glint in her eyes.
He complied quickly.
"I think I'm supposed to be happy," she told Hermione. Not like she was best friends with Hermione. It was just that no one else was listening. Harry, Fred, and George (who had since given up the repair business and the name after Fred had invented something particularly wicked) were in the corner of the train discussing Quidditch. Supposedly Ron was too, but he was focused on Hermione, and in turn, she was doing her best not to blush down to her roots.
"Don't force yourself," advised Hermione. "It'll come in time. You're just experiencing some minor filial displacement anxiety."
Which reminded her why she wasn't best friends with Hermione. Ginny exhaled briefly and instead turned her thoughts to the countryside. The past few days had been unbearably hot, and the trend was expected to continue throughout the week. As a result, she was wearing a functional mixture of Muggle clothes and a half robe.
"Are you getting new robes this year, Ginny?" inquired Hermione, unconsciously brushing the purchase her parents had made with their hard-earned teeth-drilling money.
"Nah," she replied, leaving it at that. There wouldn't be a whole lot of extra money floating around now that a new Weasley was going to join the clan. But it was hardly the baby's fault that she had to wear last year's robes.
"I forget myself," she said apologetically. "You got a new pet; it stands to reason that you wouldn't get the rest of your supplies renewed."
"I need to feed Renato," Ginny responded with a smile, which was going to be as close to an acceptance as she was going to get. "Might as well change into my robes, too. Be back in a few."
Ron looked vaguely annoyed at Ginny as she exited the car, probably because she was breaking his line of vision.
The bathroom was pristine. Ginny took great pleasure in soiling the counter by placing Renato on it. She fished out a small meal and let him work on it as she opened her duffel. Wadded up in the back were her dress robes, and she set about changing. She squirmed into the robe. It was a bit tighter than it had been last year, but that was to be expected.
She shoved her former clothes into the duffel, returned Renato to his position on her shoulder, and exited.
The first one to comment was Fred.
"You're practically falling out of your robes, Gin," he said critically. "Want to borrow some of Ron's?"
"They'd be too big for her, you git," George said, rolling his eyes.
"Shut up, George," he grinned. "That's the point."
"They'd be too long," George amended. "She's still short, ya know. What do you think, Ron?"
"Practically a git, George, yeah," Ron said distractedly, repeating random pieces of conversation.
"I think her robes are fine," Harry said stoutly.
The twins sharply turned their heads towards him. "Are you looking at our sister, Potter?"
"Well, no," Harry said quickly. "I'm just saying that-"
"You want to take this outside?" Fred said dangerously.
"We're on a train, for pete's sake," Harry said in exasperation.
George nodded with his arms crossed. "Exactly."
"Will you guys stop being babies?" Ginny demanded. "My robes are just fine."
The twins sulked, Harry looked relieved, and Ron remained in his dreamy reverie.
The sun in the sky and azure blazing about it signaled an auspicious beginning to the school year.
"Muriel!" Ginny cried out, glomping onto her friend upon eye contact.
Muriel Dreisbach, a Ravenclaw, burst into giggles and hugged her back. "How are you doing?"
"Good, good. So, how is Devon?" asked Ginny in her best gossiping voice.
"Devon?" Muriel said, confused, then the light bulb appeared over her head. "Oh, Devon. The boy from the shore. Well," she said dramatically, "we frenched and he left for boarding school."
"That's quite depressing," Ginny said, making a face.
"Well, it would be, if not for Robert," Muriel said slyly.
Ginny's ears instantly perked up and Muriel spit out all of the details on their way into Hogwarts.
The morning ceremonies went by fast, and before she knew it, Ginny was sitting next to her friend for lunch.
"Meet any cute boys in Egypt?" Muriel asked with her mouth full.
"Well, not-" Ginny stopped and blushed as she recalled her bizarre and humiliating encounter with Draco Malfoy at the beach. She cleared her throat. "No, not really."
"A shame," she proclaimed, surveying her. "You look quite different this term." She waved her fork in the general direction of Ginny's chest. "Is that padding?"
"Nope," Ginny replied.
"Lucky," Muriel said wistfully. "I'm as flat as a board."
"It is kind of nice," she admitted.
Someone made a guttural noise behind them.
Ginny turned her head. Dean Thomas was standing there, all 6 feet plus of him looking embarrassed.
"Hi, Ginny," he said, smiling nervously.
"Hi, Dean," she said warmly. He'd always been nice to her. Although this was unusual- usually he wasn't without Seamus. She looked around for him but with no avail.
Dean looked extremely awkward fidgeting with the clasp on his robes. "I was just wondering- I mean, if you haven't- well, I guess I'm trying to say that if you- uh, would you like to share a butterbeer float or something with me at Hogsmeade's?"
"Ron," Harry said slowly, "I think Dean is flirting with your sister."
"Dean's a good guy," Hermione spoke up.
Any ill wishes Ron might have wished instantly disappeared. "That's great," he said.
"You aren't worried?" Harry said cautiously.
"Dean wouldn't do anything bad," Hermione said loyally.
"I can always beat him up if he does," Ron shrugged.
Harry stared at his friends. God, he's whipped. "Aren't you even going to get indignant?"
"Nope," Ron said happily. Hermione was giving him the 'you're my hero look' again. Of course he was happy. Harry stabbed his potatoes.
"He's almost skipping back to the table," Harry said in disgust. "She must have said something favorable." He waited for a reply.
They weren't listening to him. Again.
"Ron," Hermione chided, removing his arm from around her shoulder. "I have to eat."
"I'll feed you," Ron offered eagerly.
Hermione blushed. "Ron," she said, bringing her voice to a whisper, "not here."
Harry's eyes drifted over to Ginny again.
And his jaw proceeded to drop.
"That was so cool," Muriel giggled. "Dean is so dreamy."
"Dean?" Ginny said dubiously. "I suppose he's kind of cute." Not like she really thought of him that way.
"Yo, Weasley," spoke the silky voice she had dreaded.
She swiveled slowly. "Malfoy," she acknowledged bitterly.
He looked even better than he had in Egypt. Tanned and hair so blonde it was white. Ginny tried to block out images of his bare chest and snipped, "What do you want?"
"More action?" he suggested with a lecherous grin.
"I need to talk to you," she said between clenched teeth. "Privately."
He raised his eyebrows in a manner than was actually sexy, not ridiculous like Percy. Of course, if she actually found something her brother did sexy, that would be sick and twisted.
They stepped away from the table for a second, just so the people surrounding wouldn't be able to hear their every word.
"Why," she asked quietly, "did you kiss me?"
"It's not that complicated," Draco shrugged. "I had the quintessential male dream in front of me- young, redhead, freckles, whatnot, and I could think of much better things for your lips to be doing than yelling at me."
"You never tried to kiss me last year."
"Last year, you didn't have boobs." And to punctuate this, he poked the newfound growth.
Harry leaped up in outrage. "Did you see that?"
"See what?" Ron asked, intent on watching Hermione chew her peas.
"Malfoy just fondled your sister!"
"Huh," said his oblivious friend.
The moment Ginny's hand cracked against Malfoy's face, Harry was across the room, nailing the Slytherin's jaw with a hefty left hook.
"Don't touch her," he seethed.
"Want to fight, Potter?" snarled Malfoy, grabbing his collar and rearing back for a punch.
"Fight! Fight! Fight!" chanted the entire lunchroom.
Everyone was staring at them, and she was distinctly uncomfortable with the murderous glances the twins were throwing in their direction. She was never going to live this down.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Weasley," snapped Snape. "To Dumbledore. Now."
Wahahah! Next time- Dumbledore, a bit more snogging, and Weasleys galore. Can't you just wait? ;)