Unconventional Commitments

Chapter Four

Sibling Fight

I stand in the same spot for a few minutes in shock. He really left; he has really run home to Mum to tattle on me. Okay, granted I might have accidentally told Mum that Ron and Hermione have played house…but it completely slipped, and I made sure that she knew it was a one time only thing. And it has happened so many more times than once…

In addition, Ron has no right to act all traumatized just because I may have slept with Harry. I have had nights where I have actually been subjected to…hearing…things. There is nothing more awkward than lying in bed and hearing moaning noises coming from the room across the hall. Honestly, you would think that they would have the common decency to use a silence charm or something. Plus the fact that it is my brother just makes it ten times worse. So maybe he doesn't like the idea of his little sister having s-e-x, but at least he doesn't have to literally hear it!

As these thoughts are running through my head I begin to pace. First of all, I despise the act of pacing. I despise pacers themselves even more. It is just a pointless thing to do. You walk back and forth, back and forth, back and—well, you get the general idea. It wears out your flooring and only adds to your troubles because your legs become sore and tired. Or maybe that last part is just me…this could be a sure sign that I need to exercise more if pacing is making me tired.

Irritated with myself, I sit back down on the bed. It is time for a plan of action. I have to go home today, it is family dinner day. Oh, joy. If I know my mother—and trust me, I do—she will make an absolute scene over it. Discretion and subtlety are not family traits. As I also know my brothers I know that if they hear a row between her and I involving my having slept with a man…well they will most likely fall back two centuries and go out to defend their sister's honor. With the exception of Percy…he isn't really the violent type; he will instead make up charts and tables about single mother rates and suicide levels of unmarried women over the age of twenty-three.

I have to get there first. I decide that I will nobly accept my fate, lecture, and punishment all on my own. Granted, it is ridiculous that I will receive some sort of punishment for something that is no one's business besides my own…but my mother goes by the philosophy that if you suffer for it the first time, you are less likely to make the same mistake a second time.

Speaking of a violation of my privacy though…Ron never told me how he discovered about my nightly activities. There are about two ways he could have come about that information: One, Harry told him. For the love of God, I hope that one is not true. Two, Hermione told him. This appears to be the more likely possibility. So that means one thing, Hermione has crossed over to my bad side. A place no one wants to be.

I stalk out of the room in a newfound fit of rage and yell out, "Hermione!" She appears from behind the door to her bedroom looking guilty. Well, maybe she doesn't actually look guilty, but when you have already prejudged someone for something, they are always going to look guilty to you. "I have a bone to pick with you."

She steps out of her room to face me, "That is a really horrid expression, you know. Have you ever stopped to consider what it means?"

"I don't really care. You told Ron about Harry and me!"

She avoids making eye contact, always a bad sign. "I didn't really mean to…I was just upset and hadn't had enough sleep, and it kind of slipped. Was he really that bad to you?"

"That bad," I yell, "that bad! He bloody well went home so he could tell Mum about it! By the end of tonight he will most likely be missing a body part!"

"Ginny, calm down. He would not go home to tell your mother, he isn't that dumb."

"Isn't that dumb? Do you remember who we are talking about here? This is the same person who still laughs for fifteen minutes every time someone mentions the planet Uranus!"

"Oh, dear. Are you sure he went to the Burrow to tell her though, perhaps you're jumping to conclusions?"

I clench my fists and vow not to hit the wall. "He told me he was going home to tell Mum; what conclusion can I jump to besides that he went home to tell Mum about Harry and me?"

At least she has the decency to look remorseful and embarrassed. However, this does absolutely nothing to help my predicament. I throw my hands up in frustration and stalk back into my room just as quickly as I had left it.

There is really only one choice that I have, I am going to have to go to the Burrow and face my mother. Is there anything more horrifying?

I make sure that I apparate outside of my childhood home. That way I can give myself time to collect my thoughts. And after I few minutes, I feel that I really have the upper hand on the situation. Okay, that last part is a complete lie, but it is nice to think about.

I take a deep breath and open the door—to find Ron and my mother sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea.

"I just don't understand it," he moans pitifully, "where did we go wrong with her?"

"There, there," she says reassuringly, "it'll all work out, Ron, you'll see. Ginny's a smart girl, she'll get herself together."

"No, no…it's too late. Mum, she's not…she isn't…a-"

"Virgin?" I interrupt coldly. "Yeah, well sorry about that…Actually, I'm not sorry at all."

"Ginevra Molly Weasley," my mother declares loudly, "I will not have you speaking that way. We don't use crude language of that sort in this family…"

I nearly snort, virgin is hardly a crude word, and has she heard any one of my brothers speak? They take offense language to an entirely new level. Sighing with resignation I make my way to the table and give her a kiss on the check, "I'm sorry. How are you, mum?"

"Well, I would certainly be better if I hadn't heard of my daughter's less than savory nighttime activities no less than a minute ago." I open my mouth to let loose on all of Ron's indiscretions when she surprises me, and not in a good way. "However, I am more than aware of other people's," she gives Ron a pointed look here, "imperfections in that area. All can be forgiven in the name of love, though, and I have to say that I am just thrilled to hear about you and Harry! Although, I thought you were with that camera fellow…no matter, though, Harry will do nicely for you. Ron tells me that the two of you are quite serious. I do hope this means that we will be seeing Harry at dinner tonight?"

"I…uh, yeah, of course." What the hell has Ron been telling her? "Ron," I manage to say with a very strained smile, "would you mind coming outside with me for a moment so we could discuss something?"

"I'd rather not."

"Ron, don't be silly," our mother interjects, "go outside with your sister. A little sibling bonding time would do the two of you a world of good."

Yeah, sibling bonding…that's exactly what I have planned for him. He grudgingly gets up from the table and follows me outside.

"Ron, you idiot!" I yell the second we are out of her hearing range. "What in the bloody hell did you tell her?"

He sniffs indignantly, "Nothing more than the truth. I informed her of your relations with Harry and saved your arse by mentioning the deep relationship the two of you are in at the moment."

"Deep relationship! We have never even been on a date, you dolt! I don't know what you did, but you better undo it by dinner tonight because Harry is not coming here."

"Yes he is."

"No, he isn't. I am not going through that horror just so you can feel better about the situation. You need to grow up quick, Ron, or else I am going to do you some serious bodily harm!"

He actually has the nerve to laugh. "Ginny, you are hardly in any position to be a threat to me physically."

I raise my eyebrows, "I really had no intention of exerting any physical effort beyond moving my wand hand. And trust me, Ron, I am a threat to you there."

He pales slightly, "Well, the thing is, Harry has already been called and is getting ready to come here. And Mum is expecting him to be here, and you'll have to do a lot of explaining to her as to why he suddenly can't make it."

"Fine! I don't particularly care if he comes; Harry comes to these things all the time. You had just better make sure that he isn't playing the role of my boyfriend during the duration of his visit. Otherwise, not only will I inform Mum of every one of your dirty little secrets, but I will show Hermione your stash of Playwizard magazines!"

He gasps, "You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me, Ronald."

"All right," he mumbles, "you have my word that Harry will be your platonic friend for the evening.

"Good."