Disclaimer: Yes, it's mine. No, I'm just kidding. It's not.

A/N: Welcome to Weasley Theories! ;) This is something I thought could be funny, Ginny struggling with adolescence and her feelings for Harry. Keep in mind that I've never written much Ginny before, and that I'm Swedish :P Enjoy this chappie, and tell me if it's good enough to continue! It's up to you. Yes, I mean you! points

Enjoy!

"Ginny? What the bloody hell are you doing in my room?"

Uh-oh. Busted.

"I – I mean, I was –"

Ron walked up to me and looked at what I had in my hands.

"Ginny," he said compassionately when he saw that it was his photoalbum.

And the picture that was viewed was one with Harry smiling and waving at me. I sighed and threw the album on the table before me.

"I know, Ron!" I informed him gloomily. "I just can't seem to... give up. Damn me."

He ruffled my hair and smiled.

"He'll be coming here tomorrow, you know."

I turned so fast that I fell of the chair and down on the floor.

"Who'll be whatting when?"

It couldn't be true. Wasn't it enough that Ithought about him every second? Now I had to see him every second too? Suddenly I realised I still was on the floor and that Rons offered helping hand had hung there a while. So I grabbed it and he pulled me up. And accidentaly smacked my face into his shoulder. Damn my shortness. I'm like a house-elf.

"Pardon," said my brother with a sheepish smile. "He and 'Mione's coming here tomorrow, and they're staying the rest of the summer.

No, I thought.

"No," I said. "I can't take it, Ron! Please! I'll die! That's right, mister, I'll jump out a window! Without bushes below it! That's right! You heard me!"

My, now I was panicking. And kinda pathetic. But that's what unhappy love does to you, I guess.

"Ginny," he tried to calm me, "I think it's time I told you something."

He made me sit down on the chair again, and then he made himself comfortable on his bed. And cleared his throat. Damn, this must be important, I thought.

"Ginny," he started and I nodded furiously in response, "Fred and George had this talk with me when I was fifteen like you. And now it's your turn to know."

What was this? Sounded like a disease or something. He cleared his throat again. Drama queen, I thought to myself.

"There's a few things you need to know when you're a Weasley. We have certain personality traits, and before you realise what they are, you don't even know yourself."

I just shook my head. I had no idea what this guy was talking about. 'Personality traits'? Like red hair, freckles, big feet, kinda squished noses? I don't know myself? I'm fairly sure I do. Or do I? I tried to put all my thoughts into one word...

"Huh?"

Ron sighed.

"Think about how I've been this last year. Don't you think I've changed considerably? I'm much more mature and responsible, and..." Suddenly he blushed. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, you're dating Hermione, I know." I said while waving my head. "Plus, you do shower much more often. It's nice, I like that."

Ron gave up. He even left! And I heard him muttering something about "finding her own conclusions then, here I try, she'll have to figure it out herself" while he did.

So I will.

"Ginny?" came my mothers shout from downstairs. I immediately closed the photoalbum as a reflex.

"Yes mum?"

"Harry and Hermione's here, why don't you come down to say hello?"

"Yes mum!" I repeated and ran to the mirror.

Yes, yes. Everything was alright, make up was applied, har was flat, nose clean. Let's go, I thought.

I started walk down the stairs, doing the halfsmile I'd practiced so much. But of course, me being me, I tripped over my own big feet at the third last step and tumbled down on the floor with my face flat down.

So I came to this conclusion today: being a Weasley means being clumsy.

And it's a damn good start.