Full-Summary: Ginny Weasley promised herself that she would never perform magic again for as long as she lived, and she absolutely swore that she was no longer a witch. With the help of her muggle-born best friend Hermione, and her day-dreaming supportive friend Luna, Ginny could do just that.

Give up Witchcraft.

But giving up magic is hard work, and trying not to fall for another wizard is even harder.

Especially if that wizard is one Harry J. Potter.

HPxGW HGxDM LLxNL

"Accio Firebolt!" an exasperated Ginny yelled across her room. It was the third time she thought she had called for her Quidditch gear, but as a multitude of other charmed objects floated around her head, the broom probably wasn't responding with the abundance of magic being used. The easily impatient witch didn't give a rat's arse though why not. She only wanted to get her "freaking pile of rubbish" packed up and to apparate from her childhood home, the Burrow, before nightfall.

Ginny swore loudly as yet another item failed to do as she charmed it to do, and used her wand to finish sorting her clothes into the trunk on her bed. When the bewitched broom finally decided to to follow her spell though, a flying mirror almost hit her skull when the two majicked items narrowly missed colliding in midair. The red-head scowled when she hastily ducked the projectiles at the possible last second. Silently thanking her years of Quidditch for sharpening her reflexes.

Ginny sent a scathing look towards the now immobile broom at her feet. 'Damned spell,' she thought crossly before she picked the the thing up and shrunk it with a flourish of her wand.

As she continued that process of summoning and cursing whenever an object or spell went haywire, the youngest Weasley didn't even realize that while she was haphazardly packing her room, her mother was watching with trepidation from the doorframe.

Now Molly Weasley wasn't a normally silent woman either, and it was even more so odd for her to be filled with anxiety. Worried, sure. Concerned, of course. But Ginny herself had fond memories of her overbearing loud-mouthed mother always being the perfect picture of composure. From times when her older twin brothers pranked their great-aunt Muriel, to when Ron and the rest of the Golden Trio went of in search of offing Voldemort, to even instances where Percy wasn't even speaking to her- Molly never truly went mental. Of course, if one could overlook her usual furious pan-wielding rants or her yearly Howlers sent to Hogwarts when the Weasley children were younger then yes, Molly almost never truly went around the bend...

But as the Weasley Matriarch watched her youngest child packing her things, she couldn't help but feel her eyes dampen and her vision blur. This was her little girl she was watching move away and finally leave the nest. Molly wasn't quite sure she could handle seeing that sight as it played right before her very eyes. Another tear fell onto her apron as she gave her daughter a watery smile.

"Are you sure you don't want a spot of tea before you leave Ginny dear?" the other witch perked her head up at her mother's voice, but otherwise continued her packing without looking up.

"No Mum, I'm fine. I'll just finish this trunk and be done with it." she responded evenly.

"Oh," Molly replied back with a bit of hurt in her voice, "Well at least let me help you with a few things." she pulled out her wand, wiped her eyes with the back her other hand, and quickly sent three tidying up spells that took less than half the time it would've taken Ginny to do with only 'accio'. The younger witch was secretly annoyed at that, but sent a grateful look towards her mother anyway.

"Thanks," she said sincerely, but Molly could already tell that her tone was guarded. Vacant. Empty of any emotions that would give her true feelings away. It was the same reason she wasn't looking at Molly even now.

Molly carefully walked into the room and touched her daughter's arm, quietly pulling her from her aggressive packing to look at her,"Ginny, dearest. Sweetie, you really don't have to leave the Burrow. I simply cannot see why you want to move out, let alone out to a Muggle town. It's not safe." she pocketed her wand before she tentatively touched Ginny's face and cupped her daughter's cheeks between her hands.

She glance into the younger girl's eyes which were downcast, frowning at her child's saddened expression. "Seriously Ginerva," Molly chided, "You really have no reason to leave when you're this emotionally," she paused before she said in a gentler tone, "unstable," Ginny raised a perfectly sculpted brow at that statement but Molly continued, "And Merlin help us, I don't think you're thinking straight either. I mean honestly Ginny, I have nothing against Muggles, but living away from the magic community seems a bit too extreme. What happens if you need to perform a spell? Or apparate to Diagon Alley? Or even need medical attention? It'll be risky being a witch around Muggles sweetheart, and you've never done anything like this before. Ginerva I'm truly worried about you!" Ginny pulled away with a roll of her eyes, stepping out of her mothers embrace to sit on the nearby bed that had been stripped of it's sheets. She fingered the lumpy mattress absentmindedly.

"Listen to yourself mum, you sound like I'm going to go train dragons in Romania or something. You never gave any of the other boys this much trouble when they moved out. Not even when Ron came back after he abandoned Harry and Hermione during the war! I'm just trying to get away from it all, and you act like I'm off my rocker."

"That's because all this 'giving up being a witch rubbish' is off your rocker," The older Weasley woman cried, "Ginerva please! Stop being so over dramatic! And all because of that bloody boyfriend of yours..." she took a seat beside her daughter.

"Ex-boyfriend," Ginny bitterly reminded her, "And it's not just because of that jerk Dean. Or Seamus. Or Theo. I'm just really truly tired of being a witch! Or society is barking mental! What real twenty-three year old woman still lives with her parents? It's completely fine that all my brothers can move out bu-"

"but they are men," Molly quickly interrupted, "and you, Ginny are just a little girl and it's not proper for an unmarried witch to live alone!"

The young red-head shot up outraged, "And that's totally fucked up," she snapped.

Molly bristled, standing up as well, "Don't talk that way to me young lady! Watch your language!" she rapidly retrieved her wand from her apron pocket, waving her wand and using a simple spell, Ginny's trunk disappeared.

"Evanesco!"

The Matriarch then returned to the doorframe and turned her back to her less than happy daughter, "Sweetie, you're simply just being unreasonable, come downstairs when you're in a better frame of mind and we'll talk about this. Your brothers are all coming home in an hour for Sunday dinner." And with that she left Ginny to her own devices.

The beautiful young woman glared at the retreating figure of her mother. Followed by a screamed, "Colloportus," to the door so that it slammed and locked, she hastily re-conjured up her trunk. With a quick glance around her depressingly small bedroom she had lived in since she was a small child, Ginny checked to see if she had left anything of importance behind. When she found that she had everything she needed in only three meager bags, the witch gathered her now shrunken bedroom, and without remorse, apparated out of her bedroom towards her new life.