Ginny Weasley. Ginny Molly Weasley. Ginerva Molly Weasley. With a boyfriend. Who needs letters. Yet isn't getting any. Yes, I ginerva Molly Weasley, do in fact have a boyfriend. He's wonderful! Cool, fun, um, uh... cool? Anyway, Dean Thomas is my boyfriend. He's super cool. Did I say that already? Okay then.
As I was saying, I may have forgotten to write to my very cool boyfriend this summer. I mean, he's a cool guy and all, but I just can't find the time to write him a letter. I get really busy with stuff that I need to do around the house. Like for example, I'm too busy cleaning and getting rid of garden gnomes to write him.
"Hey Gin!" I hear a voice from outside my door shout. "Me n George finished with the garden gnomes. How come you never have to do stuff around the house?" Ron complained. Okay, maybe I'm not that busy right now. So what? Is there some kind of law saying you MUST write to your boyfriend during the summer? No! I didn't think so. I mean, of course i could possibly be writing him right now...
That's beyond the point. Continuing on a completely unrelated note, I think there may be a slight possibly that Harry will be comming to the burrow soon.
Wait, hold up. I just went from talking about my boyfriend to talking about Harry Potter. Does that mean something?
Nah
Anywho... Harry May be comming soon. I mean, maybe. I don't know for sure. It's just that he almost is always here. I probably spend more time with him than with Dean. Hmmm, isn't that interesting?
No. No it is not. Stop it ginny. You're going insane. Nevermind, I'm probably not going insane. Right? RIGHT? Well, right now I am engaging in the perfectly normal activity of arguing with myself via notebook so...
Ginny seriously stop. Geez.
I should probably get to sleep anyway. I'm tired.
You know, I really did try to fall asleep. Tried. That's the key word here.
I immediately heard the sound of knocking and the door opening downstairs as I tried (insert key word in bold...) to fall asleep.
I looked at the clock and realized that it was past midnight. Mum was definitely asleep and tonks was gone. Right? But did I check to make sure? Nope. Nope I did not. Why not, you may ask? Well there's only one thought that goes through a 15 year old girl at three in the morning when the door opens while it's getting pretty dangerous out there. Wanna know what?
I'm going to die.
But truth be told, that happens way too often. In fact, I yelled out those exact words right after Fred gave me an unidentifiable candy for dessert. Don't accept a treat from the twins without at least one signed document. Just sayin'.
So after I thought that thought, I went into disaster mode. Because cmon, it's three in the morning. I'm fifteen. It's dark times. I barely have five brain cells left. You can't exactly blame me.
I grabbed a slipper for protection, and quietly walked down the stairs, right after fastening the shoebox to my head as a helmet.
I know what you're thinking.
Why. Why, ginerva, would you possibly use a slipper for protection when there are about nine perfectly good wands in this house and one is on your nightstand table?
Because. Because I think I just lost another brain cell. 15 year old girls with four brain cells at three in the morning are the people who immediately forget that they're a witch at the moment they go into attack mode. It's a blessing, really.
A bloody blessing.
Walking down the stairs quietly, slipper in hand and box on head, I didn't make a sound. The kitchen light was on and I could hear food cooking.
Now, if I was even a slightly reasonable person, I would've assumed my mother and father were downstairs. But I'm not even slightly reasonable. Wanna know what my four remaining brain cells came up with?
Crazy chef death eater stalker came in here to steal our pots and pans. Prepare attack.
A bloody blessing I tell you.