Disclaimer: Not mine. Will never be mine. Is owned by JKR, WB, and loads of other people, I'm sure. I'm just borrowing it for a while. I'll give it back. Honest.

Another Day

A week later, and Ginny's little world of summer perfection became the setting for Noah's Ark. Bill had shown up the last week of August to enjoy the peace and relaxation of the Burrow. Instead, rain pelted down on the window, rattling the Burrow something awful for most of the time. And so, along with the rest of the family, he spent the week cooped up and going slightly stir-crazy.

It was a rare moment where the entire family was in the same general area: Harry and Ron were playing a game of chess at the dining room table; Hermione was sitting on the sofa reading; Bill and Mr. Weasley were on the sofa talking; Fred and George were in front of the fire, having a heated, hushed discussion and probably plotting some new product for their joke shop; Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen cooking and Ginny was on the smaller sofa scanning the want ads of both the Muggle paper and the Daily Prophet. It was quiet, apart from the upstairs noise and the radio on in the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley came bustling in, wiping the sweat that had formed on her brow and began to ask if anyone cared for a sandwich. She stopped when she glanced at Ginny's exposed back. "Will you pull your shirt down?" said Mrs. Weasley, yanking the top down for her, ignoring Ginny's shrieking. "I hate seeing that vulgar tattoo of yours."

The family looked up in interest. The tattoo Ginny acquired sometime before was always grounds for an interesting battle between she and her mother. Ginny, grumbling, decided not to pick such a fight today.

"I never knew you had a tattoo, Gin," Harry said from the table.

"Yes, well," Ginny started, now severely ruffled from her mother's surprise attack on her favorite top. She closed her journal and putting it next to her. "I don't like bringing it up."

Harry soldiered on. "What is it?"

"Music note in a Snitch," Ron said, watching his bishop clobber Harry's last pawn in a bored fashion. "She got it—what, your seventh year, Gin?" Ginny nodded. "Yeah, well, she kept us all in the dark until Bill told us before she came home for holidays."

Ginny shrugged. "I wanted to be the cool, rebellious teenager with the tattoo and the earrings and chains and rubbish. I've since matured."

"Checkmate!" Ron crowed from the table. Ginny turned around, and saw Harry collecting his miserable-looking chess pieces. "Up for another one, Harry?"

"I'll pass," Harry said. "I can only take so much defeat in one day."

Ron shrugged. "Suit yourself." He wandered into the kitchen to sneak something to eat. Harry turned to Ginny.

"I couldn't get a tattoo," Harry said. Ginny put on a shocked expression. "I hate needles."

"The Boy Who Lived? Afraid of needles?" She placed a flat hand to her open mouth. "Alert the Daily Prophet. I'm sure everyone would love to hear that."

Harry tried to look annoyed, but amusement shone through. "Yes, well, that's the way to defeat me. You've found my weakness, Gin. Come after me with a syringe and I'm done for. I'll head for the hills myself." Harry nodded his head at the Daily Prophet that was splayed open across the sofa. "Any luck on the job front?"

Ginny looked back at the paper, the advertisements dancing jubilantly, and sighed. "Only one, and it's in London. Some pub. It sounds good, but I doubt I'd get it."

"I'm sure you would, Gin," Hermione spoke up. "You're talented enough, for sure." Ginny smiled, and shook her head. There was that damn over-modest side again. Hermione glared over Ginny's head.

"She's right, Gin," Ron said, probably due to Hermione's silent threat. "You're good."

"I say go for it," Harry said. "The worst that can happen is that you won't get it. And then you can write songs about the burn of rejection." Ginny looked over her shoulder and grinned.

"Okay, okay, I'll send an owl out tonight," Ginny said. "Can I borrow Hedwig, Harry?" Harry nodded.

"Of course."

Ginny watched as Hedwig flew up into the dusky sky. She had sent off her application, and now all she had to do was wait. The rain, thankfully, had stopped and had left heavy, steamy air in its wake. It was the type of weather where you grew hot and sweaty without moving. Ginny, along with Ron, Hermione, and Harry, had decided to drag the dining room chairs back out and sit outside, enjoying watching the stars blossom in the night sky. Ginny piled all of her hair onto the back of her head and help it there, letting her tongue loll out of her mouth in disgust of the heat. "How can it be so bloody hot?"

"It's not the heat, it's the humidity," Hermione said, reading a worn copy of Little Women. Ginny looked at her, unamused. Hermione shrugged, her own merriment making her eyes sparkle. "Well, I thought it was cute."

"It wasn't."

Ron grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and started to fan himself with it. After a moment, he realized it wasn't working and dropped it in disgust. "I can take it out here. I'm going inside." He got up. "Anybody else coming?" Hermione snapped her book shut and followed. Ron silently asked Harry and Ginny.

"No, I'll stay out here," Ginny said. "I like watching the sky." Harry nodded.

"I'll keep her company. Make sure the bugs keep their distance," he said, settling further into the chair.

"You're both bloody mental," Ron said, turning to go in the house, Hermione close behind.

Ginny let go of her hair, letting it swing back into place and landing somewhere at the middle of her back. "Long hair is such a lovely conception, but rarely does it work out in practice."

"I wouldn't know."

"Count your lucky stars," Ginny said. "So do you really think I have a snowball's chance in hell of getting the job? You weren't just saying it to appease Hermione?"

"Of course I do," said Harry, nodding. "You doubt yourself too much."

Ginny shrugged. "I get lost in the shuffle so much that every time I think I do something fantastic, it's always buried under something someone else did. So I never knew if anything I did was good, let alone good enough. Am I making any sense?"

"Yes," Harry said. "I'm not going to lie and say I know what you're going through. I don't. I was told point-blank I was never good enough, that I was worthless."

Ginny sunk into the chair. "I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to bring this up. We can go back—"

"No, it's fine. Just let me get this out." Harry said. "I was always told point-blank that I was worthless. But you," he looked up at the Burrow, almost wistfully, "you had this. You have a supportive family who always let you know they loved you and will always love you. I never got that. I would have given anything to have gotten even one minute of that."

"Well, you've got it now," Ginny said. "Let's go drown our depression in ice cream."

Harry smiles. "Sounds like a plan.

A/N: Sorry I took so long with this! School and such. You know how it goes. Hopefully I'll be on a more regular schedule after things settle down. Until then, be nice and review!
A/N 2: I fixed this one because I uploaded the wrong file. I'm sorry if I confused anyone. I've fixed it now and everything should be in at least a better semblence or order!