Unconventional Commitments

A/N- If you follow multiple stories of mine and notice that many things are being updated at once, do not roll over and die from the shock; lol, I have nothing else to do. Literally nothing. Because on the first day of my vacation my group of friends thought it would be a stellar idea to rent mopeds, and, it is, mopeds are fun…except when you crash into a mailbox and land in a pile of branches. Oh yeah, this is my life. So, I now have multiple stitches on the leg, bruises all over the left side of my body, a near-broken finger, a jacked-up shoulder, and am now left bruised and in pain with nothing but my laptop for company. sigh God, this is depressing.

Oh, and no bitching if it sucks. I'm on medication and have a tripped out sense of humor at the moment. Well, more so than usual that is.

Chapter Seven

When Life Gives You a Lemon

I sit numbly on the sofa. He what? Harry…had a crush on me? Harry that was within an inch of hating me? I decide that this was all too confusing to deal with at the moment and make my way to the kitchen where blessed coffee is waiting to be made.

Salvation, thy name is caffeine. I lean on the counter as I wait for my coffee. He isn't afraid anymore…what the hell is that supposed to mean? Not afraid of what? Me? My brothers? Life in general?

Suddenly I feel unjustifiably angry; he just dumped all of that on me and left! Left me to deal with it alone…Honestly, how am I supposed to get any sleep under circumstances such as these?

Forgetting about my sacred coffee I apparate over to Harry's in the blink of an eye, he is going to get a piece of my mind. However, once I am actually at Harry's…well, I forget why I was so angry in the first place. Feeling rather silly I prepare to go back home so that I can just write this off as a moment of temporary insanity, when Harry walks into his living room.

"Ginny?!"

"Umm…hey, Harry," I greet lamely as I feel my face turn red. He had to walk into his living room now of all times…couldn't wait five bloody seconds.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, you surprised me, so, uh; I thought it was only fair that I do the same for you."

He settles for the simple, "Oh."

I laugh uneasily, "Yeah. So…I guess that I'll just be going now—"

"No!" He interrupts quickly, "Don't go, Gin. I mean, you're already here and all…and you must be tired, I wouldn't want you to apparate under stressful conditions. Stay here and rest up a bit first."

Okay, first of all, it is not as though this is a time of war or something. I highly doubt that I am so stressed that I will end up in Australia instead of my apartment. Second of all…he wants me to stay?

I take a deep breath. "I don't like…have to, Harry. I mean, I don't want to inconvenience you anymore than I already have over the past few days. But, if you want me to…"

"I do. I want you to; I think it'd be nice for us to talk."

"We already talked."

"I know. I always have more to tell you."

I give a small smile. "Alright then. We can…talk."

Harry smiles back and makes a gesture to a nearby sofa. After I sit down and he remains standing, I prepare myself for the awkward silence that is sure to follow. Rule of thumb, there is always, always awkward silence. You put a girl and guy together in a room and that is a moment that is guaranteed to come. No one likes it, but everyone expects it.

Except…the silence does not seem so awkward. I would even stretch as far to say that the silence is somewhat comfortable. Weird.

"Ginny," Harry starts out, "I am truly sorry if I upset you by dropping all that on you tonight. I know that you already have enough to deal with…it was just something that I wanted you to know."

"It's fine, Harry," I reassure. "And it isn't as though you don't have the right to do loads of things to me, after all that you have been put through tonight. God, I cannot even apologize enough for my damned brothers. Would you like me to send you a giant stuffed bear with a lovely card to your work? You know, to make you feel better about it or something…"

He laughs, "A giant bear and a card? Well, I don't know if I'm worth all that, Gin. Don't sweat tonight, I knew going into it that your brothers would be less than stellar about the situation. After all, I was there that, ahem…one summer."

I cringe. "Yes, that…one summer. However, they will leave you alone, I promise. I am going to explain to all of them that it was just a ploy to pacify Mum. Trust me, they have all done their fair share of plotting and tricking everyone to escape the wrath of Mum, they will grant me this one."

Harry attempts a smile. "That's good, I wouldn't want a gang of Weasleys storming into my office tomorrow with plans to hogtie and beat me. How…how did your Mum find out about this, though? I went along with you because Ron told me to, but I still don't understand how it all came about."

I feel myself beginning to seethe as I spit out one word. "Ron."

"Ron?"

"Ron told her. That bloody buffoon went and blabbed to Mum not five seconds after inappropriately bitching me out."

"How did Ron find out?"

"Hermione."

"And how did Hermione find out?"

"I, uh…you know, kind of told her."

"I think I need to sit down."

I pat the cushion beside me, "By all means."

Harry falls heavily back on the couch when I notice how red his cheeks have turned. He cradles his head in his hands and mumbles something along the lines of, "Oh, God, I am so embarrassed." Yep, just throw a few random curse words in that line and you have what he really said.

I roll my eyes and lean back next to him. "Oh, chin up, Harry. They didn't think you were a virgin or anything. It's just sex, everyone does it."

He refuses to look at me and keeps his head down in his hands. He mutters something lowly that sounds like "Lot totter-fun."

"Huh? Speak up, Harry."

Again with the mumbling. This time it sounds like "Caught merry ton."

"What?"

He at last snaps his head up and loudly stats, "Not everyone!"

"Everyone isn't what?"

Harry's face turns a deeper shade of red. "Not everyone has sex. Some people are still virgins. Or, should I say, were still virgins."

My hand flies straight to my mouth in immediate shock, "No way…you are, that is were, a virgin? Come on, Harry, you had probably more than a million opportunities. I don't believe you."

"Don't believe what? That I have morals?"

"Are you saying that I don't?"

He groans. "I didn't mean it that way. I don't exactly have proof or anything, but I was a virgin, until…that night."

I look down. "Your word is good enough for me. I'm…sorry, Harry." Who would've thought Harry was a virgin? I mean, a twenty-four-year-old male virgin…I thought for sure they were an extinct species. Actually, not even that. I was unaware they existed in the first place.

"Don't be sorry. I was just…waiting for the right person."

"I am sorry. I'm so sorry that you didn't get to have your moment with the right person."

"But…I did." He stands up quickly and looks away from me, but I still catch a glimpse of his red face. "You better go, Gin."

"Yeah," I relent, "I guess so. See you later or something." I apparate with a strong sigh and a sense of unprecedented guilt.

Okay, okay, so I admit that I feel like a bitch for taking poor Harry's virginity. Not to mention a whore for losing my own so long ago. However, I do not feel guilty enough to play the role of girlfriend.

I recognized that look in his eyes, that I-want-a-deep-and-meaningful-relationship look. No way, not going to happen. You see, I like Harry…as a friend. Come on, I was effing drunk when I slept with him! Allegedly slept with him, that is. Oh hell, who am I kidding? It happened. I know that it happened because I had a…dream about it. More like a nightmare, really. I woke up in a near panic because it was Harry and I just can't—I mean don't—feel that way about him. Anymore. I lost my crush on him in fourth year, thank you, and I do not want it back.

If we become a couple, it would just be…forever. I would be with him for the rest of my life because no one would let me leave! If I tried to break up with him he would pull that sad little boy face and I would feel guilty all over again and lose my gall to do it. Not to mention that my mum would kill me. Oh, God…Mum is going to flip when she finds out that Harry and I are not together. You see? The force thing is already starting and we've never even been out on a date!

I cannot do this…I cannot be trapped. It would never work out between us, he wants a family and I want a life. He wants a nice little wife to take to office parties and I want the freedom to choose if I want to go to that party or not.

It is simple, I refuse. I will not lose my name and surrender to the cringe-worthy term of "Mrs." God, I hate that. It's always Mr. and Mrs. John Smith, or whatever….the wife doesn't even get her name acknowledged, she is only the "Mrs." I am Ginny bloody Weasley and I will not shorten myself to three letters over a case of guilt.

Feeling vindicated, I walk through my apartment with the sudden urge to high five someone. I am fine. No, I am better than fine, I am single, independent, and happy. I do not need, nor want, a man; especially not Harry. Nope, the Harry thing is out of sight, out of mind. I mean, it was really only one drunken night, no big deal…no reason to do, well anything, really. Alcohol related mistake, nothing more, nothing less.

I bop my head along to a nonexistent beat and grab one of Ron's beers out of the refrigerator. I pop the tab and take a gulp…which immediately causes me to begin choking because I forgot that I despise the taste of beer. Nasty stuff, really.

I pound my chest a few times and glare at the beer. "Damn you," I say to it, "you tricked me in all your alcoholic glory."

The beer sits on the table and silently taunts me. I'm getting ready to declare full-fledged war on the beer when an owl flies through the window. I look at it in surprise, it's Hedwig…

I gently accept the letter and open it with apprehension.

Ginny,

I know this is the coward's way out…but would you do me the honor of accompanying me to a dinner at the Ministry? Check yes or no, Hedwig knows to wait for your response.

I stare down at the note in disbelief; he actually drew a yes box, and a no box. That is so…weird. Come on, Harry, I think to myself, you can pull of something a bit better than that.

As I am preparing to laugh at the sheer silliness of the situation, I notice something rather strange, and frankly, alarming: My hand, completely of its own accord, had found a quill…and checked the yes box. Well damn.

A/N-whistles someone should send me cookies. I'm injured, damnit, feed me. And if you don't send me cookies, well, the least you can do is review. Did I mention I have stitches? And that my finger is hurt? Yeah, ya'll should feel bad that I've been adding pain to my finger just to type this. Okay, now you can review out of pity.