AN: Characters are not mine, and never will be. This piece came about as a result of me airing some complaints on the topics mentioned.

"When are you going to settle down?"

That's the question I hear most often now, from my mother. She's desperate for me to produce children, even though Fred and George have five between them. Ron's got one, with a second on the way, and Bill's got two. That's nine, in total. Perhaps I should have followed Hermione's example – when she and Charlie got together, she told mum that if it happened, it happened, but they weren't going to actively try. Then again, living in Romania keeps them out of the fearsome clutches of Molly Weasley for most of the year, and they've still not had any kids.

Me, on the other hand, well… I can't even tell her who my boyfriend is. She's the only member of my family who doesn't know, and I'd like to keep it that way. Draco Malfoy and I are ecstatically happy together, despite what everyone thinks of him. He's asked me to move in with him, and I've agreed. That's what I'm doing now – packing. I'm not going to say anything to the family until after I've moved all this – I'd never get out of the house otherwise.

"Living in sin", they call it. How is it a sin to be in love with someone? In his own weird way, he proposed, I guess. "If I believed in marriage, Gin, I'd be down on one knee offering you a ring." You really can't blame him for not liking the idea of marriage; after all, look at his parents. They're dead now, thank Merlin, but they weren't exactly what you'd call good role models. Anyway, I don't need a ring and a piece of paper to prove he loves me. I already know that. My life is perfect the way it is.

There, that's everything. Now I need to shove it all through the floo before mum gets home, which is supposed to be any minute now.

Just as I'm pushing the last bag into the fire, she appears.

"Ginny? What are you doing?"

I take a deep breath. It's now or never. "I'm moving out."

Stunned silence for a few seconds. If I were smart, I'd have jumped into the floo while I had the chance, but I didn't.

"And just where do you think you'll be living? Some rented dump? I won't allow it, Ginevra Weasley."

"So why can Charlie move to Romania and take Hermione with him, but I can't live somewhere else in this country?"

"That is completely different."

"No, mum, it isn't. I'm moving in with my boyfriend."

"You are not. You're not living with anyone before you're married."

Ah yes. That. She must have planned my wedding a hundred times, and now I've turned thirty, she's getting worried that it'll never happen. It won't, and she's about to find out.

"As I'm over seventeen, you can't actually stop me. And again, why is it ok for Charlie? They're not married." I've got her on this one, and she knows it.

"No daughter of mine…" I inherited her infamous glare, and I'm using it on her now.

"It's because I'm female, isn't it."

Without giving her time to reply, I walked out of the door and apparated.

"She's just so… so…"

"Persistent?" The slow drawl sounded amused. It wasn't the first time he'd heard me rage about my mother, and it wouldn't be the last.

"Exactly." He wrapped his arms around me, and I rested my head on his shoulder. "She can't see that I'm just not bothered by all that. I just want you."

"So tell her."

"That I'm living with you, and that's the way things are going to be from now on? It might work, if she doesn't decide to kill me!"

"I'll tell her, then."

……………………

So he did. And he ended up being lectured for ages. I'd fallen asleep on the sofa by the time he got back.

"Wake up, Gin."

"How was it?"

"Let's just say that I never want to go through that again. She said if I ever so much as think about hurting you, she'll hex me into next year. And I believe her."

"But she agreed to let me move in?"

"As long as you're sure it's what you want, and I'm not forcing you."

"Perfect."

AN: Finally, I managed to write a one-shot that isn't angsty. About time. Over to you for reviews.