Unconventional Commitments

Chapter Five

Random Family Gathering

I reluctantly go back into the house to face my mother. I know that she is not done; no way is she letting me off that easy. With a deep breath and an unsteady foot forward, I venture into the rundown house, leaving Ron outside to worry about how he is going to undo his mess.

"Hey, Mum," I say uneasily when I walk into the kitchen. "Did you want any help?"

"No," she says with a smile, "you don't have to do anything, dear. Just sit right there. Or better yet, why don't you go get yourself ready for dinner? I know that you'll want to look your best for that man of yours."

I flinch when she reaches the 'man of yours' part. "Umm, Mum, there is something that I've been meaning to tell you about that. You see, Harry and I…that is, we aren't—technically—together."

She laughs, "Oh, Ginny, I know that you learned this from Fred and George."

"Learned what?"

"To ruffle my feathers, as the twins say."

I nervously play with my hair, "I'm not attempting to ruffle your feathers, Mum. Harry and I are not, nor have we ever been, a couple."

"But…but, Ron said that you stayed with him at his house. Quite alone. And don't you think that I don't know what goes on when two young people are staying alone at night!"

"Hermione and I stay the night alone together practically every night," I say, getting annoyed, "does that mean we have sex?"

"Ginevra Molly Weasley!" she says in a scandalized tone, "I know that I brought you up better than that. You very well knew what I meant."

"Sorry," I mumble.

She turns and sits down at the table with me. "Ginny, I know that you like to…oh, what is that they say? Ah, yes. Play the field. Yes, you like to play the field, which is perfectly fine for most girls, but, dear, I fear you will gain somewhat of a reputation doing that. You are twenty-three years old now; don't you think it's time for you to settle down?"

My mouth hangs open, did she really just use the term playing the field? "Okay, there were so many things wrong with that statement that I'm really not sure where to begin…but, what the hell, I'll give it a go. Firstly, I do not play the field. In fact, I do not know anyone who does. Secondly, why exactly is it acceptable for other girls to date around, but not me? And thirdly, twenty-three is hardly old maid age. Bill and Charlie are well into their thirties and I don't see you pestering them to settle down!"

"Ginny, it's different with men."

"Bullshit," I slip in anger. I immediately cover my mouth in hope that she somehow didn't hear me.

She gasps. "I will not have this continuing cursing going on in my home! I don't know where you picked up this language, but you better lose it quick, Missy."

"You should hear Ron," I mutter under my breath.

"What was that?"

"I said I'm sorry, Mom," I amend before she can start another row on that one.

She sighs. "Ginevra, I know that you think of me as old-fashioned and a tad pushy…but I just want you to be happy. Ever since you were a little girl, I have wished for you to find your soul mate in life, that one person to make you whole. I've been so happy in my own life and marriage; I've always felt so fulfilled…I just want the same for you."

I give her a smile, "I am happy, Mum. A man in your life does not mean happiness. I have plenty of love all around me, with my friends and family."

"I know that. However, you will see soon enough that you can be surrounded by people and still be lonely. That's why I'm so happy for you that you are finally with Harry. Why, I remember when you were ten years old and you got your first glimpse of Harry Potter. We came home and you told me that you were going to marry that boy. Do you remember, Ginny?"

Okay, did she not hear my confession? I hate her ability to just block out what she doesn't want to hear. "No. I don't recall that," I say stubbornly, even though I can remember as if it were yesterday. A stupid little girl with an infatuation bordering on obsession that allowed her common sense to be clouded by dreams and fantasies of some fairy tale romance. As if I would make the mistake of becoming her again.

She sighs, "I didn't suppose that you would. Nevertheless, I know you better than you like to think, Ginny, and Harry can make you happy. Do not shut him out like you do all of your other boyfriends. Well, look at the time; I have to get back to dinner. Be a dear, won't you, and peel those onions over there."

I get up from the chair and put on an apron. Back to mother's little helper…This is why I never come to these things until the last minute, you show up early you get put to work.

I could not help thinking of my mother's words…and more importantly, the look on her face when she said them. If she does not think that I am involved with Harry it will break her heart. I can pretend, if only for tonight. And then tomorrow, I will kill Ron, because this is all his bloody fault!

When Ron finally comes back inside I grab his arm and pull him aside.

"Ginny," he says in an irate tone, "I promise I'll talk to Harry the second he gets here, just chill."

"About that…there's no need now."

"No need for what?"

"For you to talk to Harry…I'll go along with it. For Mum."

"Ha! I knew she'd get to you—"

"Ron," I interrupt, "if you want to live to see the next five minutes I suggest that you don't finish that sentence."

He nods, "Suggestion dully noted."

I am preparing to lecture him on the complete idiocy of running and tattling on me as we are both grown adults, when Fred and George practice their favorite past time on me—apparating right to the spot where you are standing.

They have bloody magical invisible cameras up around the house just so they can "pop in" directly on you. "Fred!" I yell to the twin presently sitting on my stomach, "Get off of me!"

"Whoops," he says with a laugh. "So sorry, Gin, didn't see you there."

I stand up and brush myself off, "Yeah. Sure you didn't."

"Ginny," greets George, "how is our favorite slave?"

"Don't you mean employee?"

They look at each other and then looked back at me with equal grins, "No, I meant slave."

Our mother walks out from the kitchen with a huge smile, "Boys! I didn't hear you come in, how are you? Come, come, and let me get you something to eat."

"Aren't we all here to eat dinner?" I ask dryly.

"Well, yes," she answers, "but the boys have been working all day, they must be starved now. We can't expect them to wait for everyone else."

"Yeah, Gin," Fred says, "we were doing psychical labor and all that while you were skiving the day off."

"Ginny," my mother gasps, "you skipped a day of work?"

I glare and follow everyone into the kitchen. "What is with all of you tattling on every little thing? Is it too much to ask for all of you to not run to Mummy on every little thing?"

George grabs a cookie, "Show up for work—"

"And we won't have anything to tell Mum," Fred finishes.

"I wasn't scheduled to work today, you dolts."

They look at each other with interest. "We scheduled you today," Fred says with uncertainty.

"No you didn't."

"Yeah…we did."

"No, you didn't." I bite back a smile of satisfaction as they drop the subject, neither recalling for sure if they had scheduled me or not. That is the beauty of working for the twins; they do not believe in writing things like schedules down so I skip a day here and there and then convince them that they never scheduled me in the first place.

And for anyone who is thinking of judging me on this, if you had grown up being their bloody guinea pig you would skive off a day here and there too.

I give them each a pointed look before getting out of the kitchen while I still have my angry exterior in tact. Busting out laughing will certainly not help my case.

On my way out I hear one of them mutter, "I told you we need to start writing down the schedule."

I make my way back outside. The only place that I have ever been able to get any peace around my home is outside in my dad's shed. I smile as I see a light on in the shed, Dad always has been found of his shed. Not to mention all of his muggle toys located inside of it…

I walk over to the shed and knock heavily on the door so he will hear me over the horribly loud music that he always has on nowadays. I can still recall how fondly we all "thanked" Charlie when he thought it would be a swell idea to give Dad a muggle stereo for one Christmas. One that has the ability to blast music to ungodly heights…Mum hates it.

Without waiting for an answer, I enter the darkened shed. "Dad," I call out, "are you in here?" I immediately feel the urge to hit myself after that question; it always bothers me when people would ask questions that they already knew the answer to. Seems ridiculous and pointless…

He turns off the stereo and greets me with a giant hug. "Ginny Bean! How wonderful to see you, dear."

I smile and accept his hug; he has been far more emotional since the war. Hence the many, many family get-togethers—he has seen with his own eyes how mortal we all were, so he now designated it his job to keep us all in constant contact.

He ushers me to his small table and seats me in one of the chairs. "So, tell me, how are you? Fred and George aren't working you too hard are they?"

"I'm fine, Dad. Fred and George are…well, they're Fred and George, they believe in delegating any tasks that are not playing jokes on customers down to the employees they so affectionately refer to as 'peons.' And since they only have one employee besides themselves and Lee, those wonderful tasks go to me."

He ruffles my hair playfully, "Don't worry about it, pumpkin. I know my girl; you can take those boys anytime that you want to."

I smile genuinely; my dad has always made me believe that I can do anything. That if I set my mind to it, everything would be all right. And for a moment, I truly believe that he is right, that everything will be fine.

Unfortunately, that moment ended soon enough when Harry arrived. And all hell broke loose with his arrival.

A/N- I feel as though I should say something…there, I said something, lol. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I appreciate and love every one of you! Oh, and in case anyone wanted to point out that Ginny told her mother that she and Harry weren't dating and then Molly continued to talk as if they were…well if she is anything like my mother, she has very selective hearing and memory on some things, lol.