(Summary) Another summer at the Burrow. The only bad thing about that is that it mean there will be four hormonally crazy teenagers locked in one house all summer having to deal with their out-of-whack emotions, new pains, jealousy, insecurity, and even… love. Read on as Harry finds comfort in the person he always thought to be just another girl. Ron finds hidden feelings bundled up inside of him when an unexpected visitor shows his face. Hermione fights to deny the thing she's dreaded since first year (and fails horribly). And Ginny finds a way to squeeze into ruckus that was always surrounding the trio since day one. For some strange reason I'm beginning to think this may be the start of a very interesting summer.

(A/N) Well I FINALLY decided to post the first chapter of Bottled Up Emotions. It took me long enough, but I'm still not all that satisfied with this chapter anyway. Actually I'm not totally satisfied with this story either. I decided to post it though because I guess it's only just the introductory chapter anyway and the story should get better really soon. Even though it may suck just now, it'll get better. Promise. ;) Just read on and tell me what you think. Oh and BTW this fic's setting is the summer after fifth year and just before sixth. Just thought you'd like to know. ;)

(Disclaimer) Sadly, I own nothing but the plot. Try as I may to convince JK that Ron is mine by fate she will not give him up to me. Damn. Oh well, Ron, I tried my best… sigh

Bottled Up Emotions

Ch. 1—The Knight Bus and Ginny

Dedication: I dedicate this chapter to my best friend in the whole wide world and my BETA for this story Grace! Thanks bunches girl. I couldn't have done it without you!

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Harry tried to read over the words on the parchment paper before him, but found it to be quite difficult giving the situation at hand. The Knight Bus gave another almighty lurch and Harry was thrown across the aisle and into a middle-aged witch's lap. He tired apologising over and over again as he clamoured back into his seat, but really and truly, he didn't think she minded all that much. Infact, when he had finally settled himself comfortably in his seat and secured himself somewhat more, she had winked at him and gave him a large toothy grin that formed an odd twisted feeling in his stomach making him want to hurl. Harry hastily went back to reading his letter to avoid her wedded stare and to hopefully stop himself from being sick all over the bus.

Harry,

It's Ron. I was only wondering if you fancy spending the rest of the summer with us at the Burrow. Actually it doesn't really matter if you'd want to or not. Dad'll be sending the Knight Bus over to your aunt and uncles' place sometime in the next two weeks. He said he'd let you know the night before.

It's actually a miracle you're staying with us at home. Mum was up for another three weeks at Grimmauld Place for your safety, but thankfully Dad straightened her out in the end. She seemed to finally give in after he convinced her that since the whole wizarding world is looking out for You-Know-Who it'll be safe for you to stay with us. He also reminded her of the build up of dust the Burrow'll have when she gets back after a month. This, I think, scared her out of her wits. She's been cleaning like mad ever since. By the way try not to leave mud spots on the rug when you get here. I still have knots on the back of my head from when I made that mistake about four days ago.

Well hope I see you soon. Hermione hasn't sent me a reply yet either by the way. Send word along with Pig.

-Ron

Harry had read and reread it over and over again and could most likely repeat it word for word from memory if he had to. The most likely reason for this was that if he shut his eyes really tight and pictured Ron standing before him saying those exact words, Harry could almost imagine that he was already there at the Burrow with him, Hermione, and the other Weasleys.

He hurriedly shoved the parchment back in his pocket as the bus gave another lurch. Harry was ready for it this time though and caught the low hanging chandelier over his head to stop himself from flying into the slightly disappointed looking witch across the aisle again.

Stan Shunpike, the conductor, strutted down the aisle and marched over to Harry's empty seat placing Hedwig's squawking cage down beside Harry's trunk. She seemed to have rolled to the front of the bus with that last pitch and was snapping her beak menacingly at Harry as though he were the whole reason to blame.

"Blew to the front o'the bus with dat las' jerk, she did. Ern seemed to be in a right fit, I tell ya. He kep bustling on 'bout dem pets and there ruckus," Stan said taking a seat next to Harry's newly vacant one. He must not have noticed Harry couldn't unstick his jacket from the chandelier, and Harry was just hanging there on purpose because Stan didn't seem to be making any notion to help.

"Er, Stan—" Harry started.

"Yer stop'll be comin up next, ya know it?" Stan said gazing up at Harry without any interest as though this wasn't anything abnormal and happened everyday. "At'll be eleven sickles, 'Arry, none the lease." He held out a callused hand and Harry looked down at it hopelessly from above.

"Stan, could you, maybe, erm, help me down from here. My jacket sort of—"

"Well watcher was doing up'ere for in da firs' place? Was wondering dat but I wasn't gunna say anything." Stan whipped out his wand from his pocket. "Now you jus' duck your 'ead a bit an I'll get ya down as quick as you can say 'giddown'."

"Stan, no! No! I don't think—"

But Harry didn't have time to think. As soon as the last word left Harry's lips a bright violet spray of stars shot from Stan's wand and flew straight at the chain holding the large chandelier on the ceiling. The next thing he knew, Harry was sprawled across the floor with an immense pain in his left leg where the light fixture was cutting into his skin.

"Oh, you poor boy!" the witch called in absolute disarray as she ran over to help Harry up. Harry had to fight her off in order to stand upright without having to part with his limb from the bone.

He had only just stood back up on his feet, was regaining somewhat of his balance, and was shoving eleven silver coins into Stan's hands when he was thrown forward yet again. This time he not only fell into the witch in front of him, but he was thrown into her. But it didn't stop there. The next second he flew headfirst over his trunk and flung to the floor all in a most ungraceful manner. Harry rolled the length of the bus in multiple summersaults and cartwheels then slammed his head into the wall right next to the stairs.

Well, at least I didn't fall down the stairs, Harry thought to himself as he rubbed his aching arm, leg, and, well, just about everything else.

Poor Harry. Maybe he spoke a little too soon.

Not a second later, his trunk along with Hedwig's cage, close in its wake, came skidding down the aisle after him. The trunk collided painfully against Harry's already hurting leg followed shortly by a mouthful of feathers and a large painful rap on his forehead that leaded to the not-so-blissful fall from the stairs into the second level. He knocked his head several times on the multiple steps before landing in a most dispositioned heap at the bottom.

Stan walked down the steps looking very composed indeed and lounged against the stairwell entrance carelessly. "Watcher doin down'ere for? Das your stop, ya know?"

Harry scowled up at Stan as he helped himself to his feet. "Oh, I didn't realise that," Harry said fitfully as he drug his trunk and a very disgruntled Hedwig down the last flight of stairs to the base floor of the triple-decker.

Harry threw his things ahead of himself out the door the he himself plunged gruffly from the door.

"So we'll see ya again soon, 'Arry?"

"Yeah," said Harry bluntly without even turning around. "Reeealy soon."

The purple bus boomed away from behind Harry's back and Harry could feel the gust of wind blow up the back of his shirt.

Just as relief was spreading to his unsteady leg, Harry noticed a flock of very upset chickens dodging him in a mad escape. The reason, Harry soon realised was a short, dumpy woman in pine green robes and fiery red hair was racing up towards him across the front lawn.

Before he knew it (and a lot quicker than he expected), Harry was smothered in a pile of kisses and tight bone-crushing hugs from Mrs. Weasley. Harry didn't seem to notice he was unable to breathe for the moment though. All he could really think to himself right now as he looked from the disorderly house down to the only mother figure he ever had was that he was truly home. And it just felt so great to be back where he belonged.

"Oh, Harry dear, I'm so happy to see you here! Did you have a nice trip? Are you all right? There are bruises all over your face! Are you hurt? Are you hungry? Tired? Thirsty?" she asked in an anxious motherly rant as she gave him another squeeze.

"No, ma'am," Harry said and couldn't help but grin. "Just a bit dizzy, thanks."

She smiled lovingly up at him now towering over her in height and took him by his arm, leading him up the front lawn and toward the front door into the hall.

Mrs. Weasley led Harry inside, kicked off what appeared to be Mr. Weasley's rubber boots by the door and stood there in her socks, her hands on her hips.

"Now then, I'll just take these things up to Ron's room for you and you just nip your jacket in the closet over there," she said searching the pockets of her dress frantically.

"No, really, Mrs. Weasley, I could just—"

"Nonsense, Harry," she sighed pulling out her wand. "Go on now. You go into the kitchen and whip up something to eat for a late lunch."

She charmed the trunks and guided them up the stairway and out of sight as Harry threw his jacket into the hall closet.

Harry made his way into the kitchen and was planning on finding it quite empty, but he was, infact, surprised to find a young girl seated at the breakfast table. She was a pretty young redhead not unlike the rest of the inhabitants of the Weasley household and her long hair seemed to shimmer along with the candle in the candelabrum hanging over her head.

"Harry!" she squeaked ecstatically finally catching sight of him. With a slight slip of hand, she knocked her cup of milk to the floor where it shattered and milk splashed in all directions. Harry then realised it wasn't infact a stranger, but Ginny Weasley.

Ginny had definitely changed over the summer— a lot in Harry's opinion. And change wasn't always such a bad thing.

Harry hurried to the sink and grabbed a stray towel as Ginny dived beneath the table to retrieve the shards of glass.

"I always seem to do that," Ginny laughed as she handed Harry the glass fragments and instead started to mop up the mess.

"What's that? Breaking glasses every time someone walks into a room?" Harry asked coolly as he dumped the pile of fragments into the garbage.

"No," Ginny said rolling her eyes impatiently as she rubbed milk from her arms. "Dropping whatever I'm holding whenever you come over during the summer." She couldn't help but grin but Harry realised that she was actually being serious. He could vaguely remember her diving under the table every minute or so on Harry's first trip to the Burrow.

"Ron's in his room, by the way," she said standing back up to ip the last of the milk from the table.

"Really? Thanks I guess. But why the eagerness to be rid of me?" Harry smiled as Ginny threw the drenched rag into the sink from across the kitchen.

"I just thought you'd like to know," she shrugged. "That is unless you'd like to stick around for a while and wait until I break some other dinnerware and you could help with that as well."

"No, for some reason I think I'll pass," Harry laughed as he walked back towards the doorway leading to the hall.

"Oh, and Harry."

He turned around to see her still smiling at him through her red hair hanging in her face.

"Thanks."

That smile on her lips. That was the smile that Harry hated most. The one that most girls practically inherited. It was that slick, charm smile Cho had used on him just last year and it was tightening his stomach into thick knots just thinking about it.

Harry gulped down the knot in his throat. "Er, y-y-your w-welcome."

Harry could feel Ginny's eyes on the back of his head as he exited and he felt that funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. She had definitely changed a lot over the summer and she had grown up a bit as well, there was no denying that. Harry also felt a bit shallow when he admitted it, but she was also a lot more… attracting as well. Not that Ginny wasn't ever attractive; after all that's not what he had said. She was stunningly beautiful infact with her fiery red hair and chestnut brown eyes, but she had never really 'caught his eye'; that is, not until now.

Feeling a bit uneasy, Harry turned for the stairs. Besides, he wasn't all that hungry anyway… right?

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(A/N) Well I think that went alright.Okay so it was kind of short, but it's okay for an intro chapter right? The next chapter will be better. At least I think it will be. It better be because I didn't much care for this one. Oh and BTW guys if you happen to think Harry somehow magically fell in love with Ginny just now your wrong. I didn't like that shallow "OMG she's so gorgeous I love her" approach and actually I don't think I ever will. Don't worry though the actual falling for Gin won't happen till a good reason occurs. Please guys don't give up on me just yet. I promise it'll be better just give it some time. I'm writing the sixth chapter right now and it's loads better not to mention a lot funnier. So stick to it even if it really sucks cause it'll be really good after a while. Thanks for reading everyone and don't forget to review even if you only say 'it sucks', 'it was okay', or 'it was good'. Flames are accepted as long as they're not mean, nasty, rude, or harsh. ;) Lol.

Love from Lizzie

(VERY Brief Ch.2 Summary) Ron's having a couple problems of his own to deal with. That's it! :D

(Something to think about) If you could change one thing in your life, what would it be and why? Consider what would change if it were different. Every choice you make could make the difference between life and death. Dun! Dun! Dun!

"It has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterflies wings can ultimately cause a typhoon half way around the world." –Chaos Theory