zuvalupa: Thank you! I try to make it interesting.

Dark Angels: It's been a while but I'm hoping this is soon enough.

Sunflour: Good suggestion but I've already got the wedding planned. Ron is going to be absolutely SPEWING when he finds out.

Rednight-rider: This is what happens next. =)=)

drk-ngel: When I type the a's in your name, they disappear! Oh well, forgive me. That chapter had nothing to do with ANYTHING, but it kind of set the mood., ya know what I mean?

daydreamgoddess: I might check it out when I get the time, but I barely have any time because of school.

Dark Zelda: She doesn't THINK she likes Draco, but she so does. She's just telling herself "Dumbledore knows best." But really she doesn't mind as much as Ron that she's marrying Draco, cos he IS the hottest guy in Hogwarts, even if he is an absolute prick!

Silwen Aurdomiel: Thank you! Everyone would want a tidal wave, they could swim without holding their breath or ANYTHING! I used the always eleven line because my sister reckons I'll always be twelve, even though I'm like, fifteen. You're the first person to pick up on that Dra-Gin Draco-Ginny thing. Or maybe everyone's picked up on it and just not said anything. Who knows. I just liked it cos it sounds like Dragon. I didn't mean to make Crabbe and Goyle intellegent, I just don't really think it makes sense that they speak in grunts but still get through Hogwarts. Dumbledore is DELIGHTFULLY ECCENTRIC, and I'm sure he'll get Moody to explain what it is when he finds out Dumbledore 'borrowed' his card.


Ginny looked up apprehensively at her house, a small overnight bag clutched in her hand. Dumbledore allowing her to return home for a few days to tell her parents the news in person was one thing. Actually going through with the telling of the news was another. Walking up to the door, she wondered at how this would look. Ginny arriving home early from school with a bag in her hand, a part terrified, part anxious, part queasy look on her face. She knocked three times on the mahogany door, and it Mrs Weasley opened it, flour in her hair and an apron on. Ginny caught a strong whiff of chocolate muffins being cooked and she almost smiled, before remembering the news.

"What on earth are you doing back here young lady? You haven't been expelled, have you? Oh gosh, I knew Fred and George were a handful, and Ron was always a troublemaker, but expulsion? What did you do? Who with? Is it a boy, Ginny? Were you expelled for a boy?"

Mrs. Weasley said this all extremely fast. Ginny stood there, half-smiling. She decided to let her mother blow off some steam.

"Boys! What are they good for? Face it Ginny, you're not going to find your one true love at sixteen. I mean, you need to experience everything while you still can, but I would have at least thought you'd have waited until you were married! Miss Weasley, do you know the dangers of pregnancy? You're sixteen, Ginny. How would you feel if your young son's friends all called you 'hot' and wanted to 'get you into bed'? But now would you have a problem with that? Oh, why did I give birth to a girl! Ginny, I think we need to have a talk. Sometimes, when two people love each other very much –"

Ginny tried not to laugh, but it was all too much, and she dropped her bag inside the foyer, and hugged her mother, laughing.

"One: I am not expelled. Two: I do not have a boyfriend. Three: I am sixteen, mum. I know what sex is. Four: Knowing full well what sex is, and that in fact, I did not come from the cabbage patch, I know better than to have sex with just anyone. Five: If my son's friends called me hot, I would be flattered, but I don't think I would break the law just for some hormonal teenager with a breaking voice. Six: I am not having sex. Seven: Repeat number six, ten thousand times."

Mrs Weasley looked confused, then brightened, and hugged her daughter back. "My little girl is growing up..." Ginny laughed, and Mrs. Weasley scurried off to the kitchen, returning with a large chocolate muffin. "Just for you! See the chocolate chips?"

Ginny looked down, and in tiny white chocolate chips, her name was spelled out. She wondered if this was a regular activity her mother indulged in, making muffins with her children's names on them, and decided that her mother defnintely needed a less creepy hobby. Ginny dragged her bag up to her room and flopped down onto the bed, thinking vaguely of telling her parents the news later, over dinner maybe.

She supposed she must have fallen asleep, because, next thing she knew, her mother was calling her for dinner. "Coming, mum." She called out, and rubbed her eyes wearily. But her sleepiness immediately dissipated when she caught a whiff of the dinner her mother had prepared.

"Since it's just the three of us, I thought I'd make something special." Mrs Weasley said, and Ginny realised that her mother still had no idea what Ginny was doing home, and was putting her on the guilt trip for information.

"Great mum, I have something to tell both of you." Ginny said. Sitting down at the table, she sniffed the food on her plate.

"Lemon chicken with rice, dear! New recipe. Now, what were you telling me about an explanation?"

Ginny took a mouthful of chicken, and, finding it delicious, resisted the urge to keep eating. She needed to explain. "Mum, dad, Dumbledore called me and Draco Malfoy up to his office the other day."

"Why?" Mrs Weasley asked, then her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I knew this was over a boy!"

"Mum, I was NOT expelled. Anyway, there's this prophecy, right? And it says that there's going to be a person who's even eviller than You-Know-Who. And the only way to stop that evil is for all four houses to unite. And the only way for that to happen is if a certain person unites them. That certain person is my child, fathered by Draco Malfoy. We're getting married in a week. I really want you to be there."

Mr and Mrs Weasley looked shocked. Mr Weasley held his fork up near his face, one grain of rice touching his lip. Mrs Weasley, on the other hand, dropped her fork, letting it clatter noisily on her plate. You could hear the crickets outside the window.

"Mum? Dad?' Ginny said. "Please say something."

"You have to get married." Mr Weasley said, resting his fork down onto his plate. "Ginny, do you know how evil that family is? They're right in with You-Know-Who. I'm worried."

"It's not my choice to make, dad." She muttered, then stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. "I've lost my appetite."

Walking up the stairs to her room, Ginny's stomach suddenly cramped violently and she ran to the bathroom, projectile-vomiting into the toilet. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up into her mother's eyes, glistening, but at the same time understanding. Ginny wiped her mouth on her sleeve.

"Mum." She murmured.

"Ginny." Her mother replied, flushing the toilet. She handed Ginny a glass of water and she drained it in one gulp. She sat down with her daughter on the cold bathroom tiles and said nothing. Ginny clutched her knees to her chest and rocked softly back and forth. With a pang of empathy, she realised that her youngest child was crying. Sweeping her into a two-armed hug, she stroked Ginny's hair, still silent. "Your father doesn't like this, sweetie."

"Neither do I." Ginny breathed, barely audible. "But what choice do I have."

"The Malfoys are not average wizards." Mrs Weasley said. "They are conniving, and evil. They will use anything against you."

"Don't tell me you share dad's feelings." Ginny asked, looking up into her mother's eyes.

"No, honey. I just want you to be careful around Draco."

Ginny stopped moving suddenly. "You used his first name."

"And I advise you to as well, if you will be married. I hardly go about calling Arthur 'Weasley' now, do I?"

"But you married for love." Ginny breathed. Mrs. Weasley only just caught the words coming from her daughter's mouth.

"That I cannot deny." Mrs Weasley said quietly. "I trust Dumbledore knows what he's doing."

"I never expected my wedding to be one where even the bride cries." Ginny breathed. Mrs Weasley blinked, and tears fell from her eyes this time. Seeing a daughter cry is the hardest thing for a mother, she thought as she continued stroking Ginny's flaming red curls.