"Charlie? Can I talk to you?"

Charlie squinted into the sunlight. Ginny stood at the corner of the chicken coop.

"Where's Harry?"

"Asleep."

"Hold that," he said, pointing to the end of the chicken wire. He had been trying to hold it in place against the new fence stakes with a sticking spell, but it wasn't working very well.

She knelt and wrapped one small hand around the post, and he picked up a few nails to secure it.

"What's on your mind?"

"I wanted to talk about Tonks," she said quietly.

Charlie paused, hammer poised over a nail, then began pounding it in. "What about her?"

"Remember when we were all up on the roof the night before Ron and Hermione left, and you wondered if she had told me any stories about you or Bill?"

He frowned. He'd had a lot to drink that night. "Vaguely."

"Well, she said—she said you were her first. That you were each other's firsts, actually."

Tonks had talked with his little sister about sex? Ginny had been … only thirteen that summer! He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She had both hands wrapped around the stake now and focused on it with unnecessary vigilance. Oh, what the hell. Like he could stop her, anyway.

"We were." He had no regrets, but what had Tonks thought? Two nails later, he asked.

Ginny grinned. "She said it was a shame I was related to you, and then she teased Hermione about Ron."

He smiled and moved a few feet away, stretching out the chicken wire. Yeah, that sounded like her.

"I was wondering, er, how did she convince you?"

The hammer missed the stake completely. "Pardon me?"

Ginny still sat beside the first one, drawing in the dirt with one hand. "What did she—how—I mean, how did you know—"

This was not happening. It was a nightmare or a prank—yes, that was it. George had slipped something into his mash when they met for lunch.

"Merlin, Ginny, couldn't you have at least waited until I was drunk?"

"I thought about that, but you're always on the roof with the others, and you lot won't let me up there!"

True enough. They had let Ginny up the night of Fred's funeral and the night she mentioned a few minutes ago, but all the other roof meetings had been wizards only. Charlie dropped the hammer and scrubbed both hands over his face. "All right, come on."

"What?"

He jerked his head towards the road. "Come on."

They walked in silence for a few minutes, crossing the road and heading towards Stoatshead Hill.

"What's this really about?"

She looked up at him suspiciously. "Do you promise not to hurt him?"

"No."

"Charlie!"

"You're my baby sister. I reserve the right to pulverize anyone who hurts you."

"My definition of hurting me," Ginny said.

Charlie considered this. "If I say no, does that mean this conversation is over?"

"Fine. Forget I asked." She turned and was out of reach before he realized she had moved.

He hadn't meant to make her mad. "Ginny, wait! Wait. I'm sorry."

She stopped but didn't turn around.

"I'm sorry," he said gently, laying a hand on her shoulder.

She shook it off. "I don't have anyone else to ask! Bill would lock me in my room forever, Ron would go spare even if he were here, George is—George, I'm not asking Percy, Hermione is on the other side of the world, and Tonks is dead! So, I'm sorry, but—" Her voice cracked.

"What about Mum?"

"Mum thinks I'm still a baby."

Charlie recognized the accuracy of that statement and sighed. Bill was going to kill him. "Okay, Ginny. Tell me what's going on."

She gave him another suspicious look but resumed walking. "I know how to … stop things from happening, but what do I do if I want more?"

"You mean physically?" If they were going to have this conversation, then they were going to have it—no guesses and no misunderstandings.

She nodded, blushing.

"What does he do when you try? You have tried, right?"

"Last time he shoved me out of his bed."

What, Ginny wasn't good enough for the Boy Who Lived? Charlie realized he was considering hexing Potter for not making a move on his sister and shook his head. Time to try a different approach.

"Are you sure you're ready for this? You're not even of age. There's plenty of time—"

"One month," she retorted. "I'll be seventeen one month from tomorrow. How old was Tonks?"

"None of your business," he said firmly. If Tonks hadn't told her, Charlie certainly wasn't going to. "There's no rush. Having sex is a big decision, one you can't take back."

"I know that. I'm not talking about … that, not exactly. Not yet. But I'm going back to Hogwarts in September and Harry's not, and I don't want to wait another year."

"What if he does?"

She looked so gobsmacked that Charlie laughed.

"Is that possible?"

"Well, not typically, but he's not your typical bloke, now is he?"

"No," she said softly. "No, he's not."

"Look, Ginny, a blind man could see Harry is crazy about you. I don't know why he's holding back, but I do know he's attracted to you. He watches you all the time, even when one of us is watching him. That is not the behavior of a bloke who's not interested, okay?"

She pulled her plait over her shoulder and began playing with the ends. "He said—he said he didn't want to screw anything up, not with me and not with Ron or … anybody, but…."

Charlie waited.

"I don't want to push Harry or make him uncomfortable, but how do I let him know I'm ready when he is? When I am, I mean?"

He smiled, certain his next suggestion would get a reaction. "Tell him."

Ginny dropped her plait and stared up at him. "Really? But—but—what—how—"

"He's your boyfriend."

"But—" She spluttered to a halt.

"Ready or not, he's thought about it. He'll be relieved to know you have too, to stop having to guess what you want or worry he's going to offend you."

"But I—" She broke off, turning pink. "I already told him he wasn't going to offend me if he … did stuff."

"Ginny, unless you spelled it out body part by body part, he has no idea what you want."

"But—why not?" she said, frustrated.

"Because we're not mind readers. Because witches are mysterious, and you have this nasty habit of changing your minds. Because we like you, and we don't want to make you mad."

"Driving me mad, more likely," she muttered.

"I'm sure it's mutual," Charlie said dryly.

She was playing with her plait again. He considered his sister's personality combined with her revelations.

"My guess is, he's been a bit reserved, and you've been the one to move things forward so far. Am I right?"

She shrugged.

"But you want him to make the final move?"

She made an awkward movement that could have meant anything.

"Well?" Charlie stopped walking.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Then back off," he said gently. "Give him room to act. There's no need to chase something that's not running away from you." And since he had said all this, there was one thing he needed to make certain. "And Ginny?"

"Hmm?"

"I assume Mum taught you how to do the charm?"

"A contraception and disease charm? Ages ago."

"Don't forget to use it," he said sternly. "If you're grown-up enough to have sex, then be responsible about it."

"Charlie?"

Oh, Merlin, now what?

But Ginny flung her arms around his neck. "Thank you."

Charlie held on tight. She was growing up—had grown up—much too fast. "Don't make me regret it."

()()()()

Ginny heard the flapping of wings and instinctively leaned forward to protect the treacle tart from feathers. She turned and spotted a now-familiar bird with a white breast and brown wings perched on the back of a kitchen chair, a scroll strapped to one leg.

"Harry!" she called, loudly enough for her voice to carry into the sitting room. "It's another letter from Ron and Hermione!"

Harry came into the kitchen and untied the letter as Ginny loaded plates on a tray and followed him back into the sitting room. She set the tray on a side table and snagged a piece of treacle tart for herself and Harry, sitting down beside George, who was sprawled over half the sofa with a drink in one hand. Harry sat in the floor at her feet between the sofa and Percy's chair.

"What does it say?" Ginny said eagerly. "Are they coming home?"

Harry skimmed the parchment. "On the eighteenth-that's this Saturday!"

"With Hermione's parents?"

Harry nodded. "They're all flying into London, then they'll split up and take the train the rest of the way."

"Hermione's not coming here first?" Ginny said, disappointed.

"Ron says the situation between her and her parents is pretty tense and she wants to spend as much time with them as possible before she goes back to Hogwarts. She's planning to come for my birthday, though." Harry practically vibrated with excitement.

Ginny smiled, handing him his plate and fork as he set the letter aside.

"Ron's taking the train from London?" George said. "The Muggle train?"

"He's been traveling in the Muggle world for two months. I'm sure he can manage," Percy said. "It's about time if you ask me. I don't see why he needed to go with Hermione in the first place."

Harry tensed and Ginny pressed her foot into his side. Of course Percy didn't understand; he didn't know that Mr. and Mrs. Granger had been—well, not Mr. and Mrs. Granger any more.

"You did not just say that," George said, staring at his older brother.

Percy collected the last crumbs of crust by pressing his fork against the plate. "He should have been here, with us. To support the family."

Ginny stopped breathing. No, Percy wasn't that stupid, he hadn't just given George the perfect opening—

"What, like you did when Voldemort came back?"

Percy's neck reddened, but he set his empty plate on the tray with calm precision. "That was different. There was no proof, but this time—"

"I'm sitting right here, Percy," Harry said through gritted teeth.

He looked down at Harry in surprise, then adjusted his glasses. "But Ron left less than a week after Fred's funeral!"

George dropped his half-eaten tart onto the tray with a clatter. "You have no right to criticize anyone in this family. Merlin, you always have been a pompous arse."

"George," Ginny said quietly. He was drunk. Not that he didn't have a point, but the alcohol made his sharp tongue sharper still and took away any softening humor.

"Always right, always perfect, never making a single mistake and never admitting one even when it stares you in the face! Ron was right in the thick of it the whole entire time, but you didn't have the courage to come home even when you started working for the Order!"

"I tried to come home, but you didn't want me. You threw Christmas dinner in my face!"

"Percy," Ginny cried.

"Hello! Where is everyone? Oh, there you are—what's going on?"

()()()()

Bill stared at the four of them frozen in place, obviously mid-argument. George leaned forward aggressively, Percy's shoulders were hunched and his face turned away, Harry sat with his knees drawn up looking at no one, and Ginny was half out of her seat.

"What's going on?" Bill repeated, stepping fully into the room.

Ginny straightened up and turned her anger on him, placing both hands on her hips and demanding, "What are you doing here?"

"Fleur forgot her dish."

"I'll get it for you."

"I don't care about the bowl. I want to know what's going on."

"It's nothing, right, boys? Come on, Bill." Ginny grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the kitchen. "It's sitting on the worktop."

"Ginny—"

She picked up the serving bowl Fleur had brought to dinner earlier and extended it with one hand on the bottom and one on its lid. Bill refused to take it.

"Just because you're the oldest doesn't mean you can pry into everyone's business."

"Caring about why three of my siblings are fighting is not prying."

"It is when you won't leave well enough alone!" Ginny's voice cracked.

Whatever it was, she was genuinely upset.

"Is George drinking again?"

"That's not it. Not all of it, at least. Take the bowl."

Reluctantly, Bill complied. "Ginny—"

"Do you know Percy's new address?"

"What?"

"Percy's address. I want to Floo-call him. What is it?"

"He's sitting in the next room."

"He won't be when I go back."

"I—yeah, it's—" Bill ran a hand through his hair. "Something Highfield Road. I have it written down at home. I'll bring it, okay?"

She nodded.

"Are you okay?"

Another nod.

"You'll tell me if there's anything I can do?" There had to be something….

"Just get me the address," Ginny said shortly, and left the kitchen.

()()()()

Ginny waited two days for the emotions of Sunday's argument to die down before she visited Percy. Trusting that he had set the Floo security to blood wards, as Mum and Dad and Bill and Fleur did, she arrived in the early evening, at about the same time Percy would be leaving work.

Ginny found herself in a spotless kitchen with a small scullery off to the left and set her housewarming gift on the square table right in front of her. She turned right down a narrow hall lit by the sunlight coming through the stained-glass transom and clear twin lites of the blue front door. The old wood floors creaked beneath her trainers as she passed a bathroom on her right and the lounge and Percy's bedroom on her left before squinting through the wavy glass to see a long row of terraced houses across the street. A door opened and closed behind her.

"Percy?"

"Ginny?" Percy came though the scullery with a plastic bag in one hand and a leather case in the other. "What are you doing here?" He set the items on the table. "Is everything okay?"

"Is that dinner?" She took a deep breath, heading for the bag that smelled like food. "It smells delicious."

"Chicken chow mein and egg rolls. But I didn't get enough for two. I didn't know you were coming," he said pointedly.

Ginny didn't argue or grab for it; she just looked from Percy to the bag and back again.

"Oh, sit down," he said impatiently, turning to the cupboards for plates.

She beamed at him as he scraped a third of the noodles onto her plate and added an egg roll before pouring drinks for both of them.

"This is good," she said after her first mouthful. "What is it?"

"Chinese. What's that?" Percy nodded at the bowl Ginny had brought with her.

She pushed it towards him. A wave of steam escaped when he removed the lid, and he stared into it for a full minute.

"You—" He cleared his throat. "You made me parsnips?"

Ginny watched him anxiously. "You had to know you couldn't just waltz in like nothing happened."

"It was Christmas!"

"You brought Scrimgeour! The only reason you showed up that day was so Scrimgeour could bully Harry into supporting the Ministry."

"That is not true," Percy said sharply. "I had been planning to come home for weeks, and somehow Scrimgeour found out. You have no idea how terrifying that was, him casually asking if he could accompany me to my parents' home on Christmas Day. I had told no one, Ginny. No one. I still don't know how he found out." He replaced the lid with a loud clatter.

She looked down at her plate. "I'm sorry. I wanted you to come home, Perce. I did."

He toyed with his noodles, twisting them around the sticks he was eating with. Ginny watched him for a minute, then got up and began opening drawers, looking for a spoon. She found one in the second drawer she opened and returned to the table, took the lid off the parsnips, and scooped up a spoonful, holding it over Percy's plate. It took a moment, but he moved his half-eaten egg roll to make room. Ginny plopped them onto his plate and then served herself. She heard footsteps on stairs and started in surprise.

"There are two flats above us."

"Oh. It's nice. I like it."

"Nosy brat," Percy said, but there was affection in the insult, and Ginny smiled.