My mum wasn't pleased at all when I told her.

"An American!" she says, dropping the pan she was holding, which was holding two plate's worth of fried eggs. They've scattered everywhere decorating the floor.

"So if he was English or French it would be alright?" I say annoyed. "That was quick."

My mother softens after the initial shock of being told about Jonathan. I can't blame her for being a bit angry. I've just told her that I have a boyfriend. She believes that Jonathan and I are serious, but I don't feel guilty lying about the truth. She still thinks of me as her little girl. Percy once told me in confidence that the real reason she and my father had so many children was because they desperately wanted a girl. Three sons after Percy that had one – me. However, having six sons and one daughter had a poor effect on family finances, and we had been a poor family up until He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's death the year before I left Hogwarts. But that, of course, is another story.

"I'm sorry Ginny. You just frightened me a bit." I help her clean up the eggs on the floor. We're alone in the hours. My father is at work and my brothers left home years ago. It's only my father and mother living here now. The effects of the past ten years have taken their toll on the both of them. My father's lost most of his hair and wears his glasses more and more. He gets tired more often, but he won't admit it's to age, just his job. He's had his job for years, but it's never been this tiring, even after Who-Know-Who was in power. He's getting old, even if he won't admit it. The same events are happening to my mother, just in a different way. My mother's long red hair is now graying. The wrinkles have become apparent on her face, especially when she smiles.

The Burrow too, it seems has aged. However, it's aged secretly and silently, more to my absence then to the years. Its aging has taken place in its staying the same. True, it's cleaner due to lack of children, and there are dozens of pictures of my brothers' children on the walls, but otherwise it hasn't changed. The clock on the wall still has all the children's faces on it, stuck on "Away" even though they've all left home. Mother's excuse is that's she's never gotten around to take the pictures out, and I keep my opinion about the real reason silent. Seven children make you an eternal mother at heart.

"This boyfriend of yours," my mother says, after we've cleaned up the whole fried-egg disaster, "He's a wizard, isn't he?"

"Yeah mum, pure-blood. His mother's half muggle, but his father's come from a fairly long line of wizards. Why?"

"Oh, just curious really. You know I don't care about that. I would just like to know more about this- Ben was it?"

"Jonathan."

"Jonathan. What's his surname?"

"Davis."

"Davis," she said, and my mother sat down across from me, handing a cup she had conjured while I wasn't looking, "well, now what's he like?"

I smile and sip the tea. My mother is trying to be my older sister again. I suppose I do need to tell her about Jon. If I let it all out at once, the shock might kill her.

"Well, a friend and I were in New York, and we..."

I begin to tell the story of how I met Jon, careful to leave out the detail that's not really a detail. That I'm more than just Jon's girlfriend.

One step at a time, he told me, one step at a time.