A/N—Okay, I get it…Ginny was being a bitch. But, she did not say anything at all that I myself would not say. Hell, half of it I have said. But, I am a bitch, so there you go…

Gah. I'm in a bad, bad mood. Wedding rehearsal in two hours, then I am…I don't know. Perhaps I'll go get drunk. Yes, that sounds fun. Someone pass me a Bacardi. Preferably Bacardi Razz to get drunk faster, but Silver or O would do as well. Er, not that I know anything about alcohol…nope, nothing at all. I'm underage, so therefore would never, ever do anything against the law. Ha-ha.

Oh, and it isn't my rehearsal, just in case anyone got that impression. I'd really have to shoot myself if that were the case.

Unconventional Commitments

Chapter Twelve
Yet Another Random Family Gathering

Harry is gone…and here I am, back on the couch.

There is absolutely no way that that boy will attempt to start a relationship with me now. Which is a very good thing? Right, of course it is.

I hear the door start to open, and sit halfway up to greet Hermione.

"You will not believe what happened at work today!"

I have to smile back at the goofy-happy look on her face. "You got promoted?"

"Better."

Better than a promotion? In Hermione's world, a promotion is better than sex. "Umm…the entire royal family suddenly and unexpectedly died, and you are now the Queen of England?"

"I'm not sure if it's better than that…" she shakes her head and walks over to the couch, with her left arm extended.

My jaw drops; there is a huge diamond on Hermione's left ring finger!

"Oh my…"

"I know! And you won't believe how it happened—"

"You are engaged to Ron, right?"

"Yes, of course."

"The same Ron that flipped over the idea of your toothbrush being left at his place?"

"Apparently, that's what gave him the idea. He comes into my office today and starts pacing around and acting strangely; so I ask him what is wrong, and he says 'Do you still want to leave your toothbrush in my apartment?' Of course, this is the last thing I expected him to say, so I say, 'I don't know. Do you want me to leave my toothbrush there?' To which he says, 'Yes. Hermione, ever since you mentioned it, I realized that…that I'm ready to take that next step with you—"

"What step is that, the toothbrush step?"

She ignores me, and continues, "So then he gets down on one knee, and pulls a small black box out of his pocket. He looks up at me, with the most anxious expression, and says 'Hermione, I love you. And nothing would please me more than to have you and your toothbrush in my life forever. Will you marry me?"

I clamp a hand over my mouth to stop from laughing. "He…ahem, he proposed to you and your toothbrush?"

Hermione glares as if to dare me to laugh at her proposal.

"No, it's sweet, Hermione. A very Ron thing to do. So you're getting married then?"

She smiles once more, "Yes! You're the first person I've told, actually, we're having everyone over to the Burrow tonight so we can announce it, so you have to come. And, I…I wanted to ask you…will you be my Maid of Honor?"

"Umm," I stall. God, I hate being Maid of Honor; I've done it three times all ready. Bloody boring task. One look at her happiness though, and I cave. "Yes, of course I will! Thank you so much for asking—"

"Oh, don't put on an act, Ginny. I know that you hate being in wedding parties; but I want you there all the same. A 'yes' is enough for me, no need for the 'I am so honored' speech."

Damn. I had forgotten that Hermione was the one whom I have complained to the previous three times that I was delegated with the task. So who can I bitch to now? This is sad.

"Ron's over at Harry's right now," she continues. "He is going to wait for me though, so we can tell him together…so I better go, because Ron is not good at keeping secrets."

I can practically hear the warning bells going off in my head. "So Ron is going to ask Harry to be his Best Man then?"

"Of course he is, he wouldn't very well ask anyone else, now would he? Well, be at the Burrow at seven. Bye, Gin!"

She disapparates before I have opportunity to respond. Shit…I should have known that Ron would ask Harry to be his Best Man, but somehow it just didn't factor to me.

The Maid of Honor and Best Man get thrust together at every possible opportunity. They sit together, they stand together, and they dance together. Double shit. There goes the brilliant idea of avoiding Harry until it isn't awkward between us. Maybe it'll be a very long engagement and Harry will find someone new and it won't be awkward…

I sigh and walk back to the bathroom, little chance of that happening—my luck simply is not that good. If I am spending an evening with my family and Harry then I am just going to have to clean my woes away.

My shower, quite possibly, set some kind of world record on time. Taking the world's longest shower takes (duh) time…so I am, er…kind of late to dinner.

I feel horrible, really I do. I had every intention of at least beating Ron and Hermione there, but I didn't even make it in time for their announcement. Apparently, I wasn't worthy enough to wait upon. Which is fine with me, but the lecture I know am I going to receive—based upon the look on my mother's face—isn't as fine.

"Ginny!" she screeches as she all but runs over to me. "Where have you been?"

"Well, actually I—"

"Never mind. You just missed your brother's and Hermione's announcement."

"I'm sorry. But, I all ready know that they are getting married…so maybe they won't mind?"

"And how do you know that they are getting married?"

"Hermione told me."

Uh-oh…wrong thing to say. Good going, Ginny.

"They told you before they told me?"

"Umm, no? I guessed. Yeah, it turns out that I'm a Seer, good for me, right?"

She sighs. "Well, at least you know. Come on, we're getting ready to eat."

I follow her into the kitchen, and I discover that everyone else has all ready been seated. I bite down on my lip—the only available chair is beside Harry on the end. With no other choice available, I sit next to him.

"Hello, Harry."

He gives me a cold stare, "Ginny."

"So…exciting news, huh?"

"I'm surprised that you would think so. With your views on matrimony I'd think that you wouldn't want anyone to be married. That way everyone can be as miserable—excuse me, I mean happy—as you."

And just what am I supposed to say to that? I laugh nervously, "Good one."

"I wasn't aware that I had made a joke."

Okay, the whole unblinking I-would-use-an-Unforgivable-on-you-if-I-knew-I-wouldn't-get-caught look is getting a bit creepy.

"I think I have to go to the bathroom," I say quietly before getting up from the table. Maybe when I come back someone else will have gotten up and I can steal their seat…

In the bathroom I stare at myself in the mirror. Harry's right, I am miserable. I mean, I've always thought of myself as rather pretty. Not to be vain or anything, but some boys at Hogwarts risked a lot of bodily harm to date me—so I figured I must be somewhat good-looking, right? But I don't feel pretty at the moment. I have bags under my eyes and my entire face just looks sad. Even my normally vibrant red hair seems to be a duller color than normal.

Oh, God. From the state of misery I shall move on to depression and overall bitterness. And then I will be this ninety-year-old lady that has no friends, no family, and seventy cats.

I gasp and turn away from the mirror. What is worse, marriage or seventy cats?

I don't really like cats…

No. Being single has been my lifelong ambition; I will not rethink it just because stupid Harry thinks I'm miserable. I am not unhappy; I am more than content with my life. He's the one that's depressed, not me.

I walk out of the bathroom and start to go back to the kitchen, but stop. I don't want to go back in there…

I sigh and end up back in my old bedroom. The room itself makes me flinch, it's so…pink. I sit down at the small desk and open up one of the drawers, which immediately makes me laugh because I had forgotten about the things that I shoved in these drawers.

There's a stack of pictures that are nothing other than random shots of Harry at Quidditch practice, taken from my safely hidden position behind the bleachers on the night that I stole Colin's camera.

As I am smiling at my pathetic youth, the door creaks open. It's Harry.

"Your mum sent me to find you," he says quietly.

Well, at least he appears less disgruntled now. "All right. I'll be out in a minute."

He nods and starts to leave, but then turns back. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. I just figured that my miserable self wasn't welcome at the table any longer."

"Don't try to make me feel guilty."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

He walks over to me and catches sight of one of the pictures, "What's all that?"

I hand him the stack, "It's you."

"Why do you have all of these?"

I shake my head, dumb question Harry. "Remember a certain eleven-year-old obsession?"

"Yeah, but why do you still have them?"

"Because I like to stalk you in my free time," I say sarcastically. "I had forgotten that they were in there, obviously."

"Oh. Would you mind if I kept some of these? I don't have all that many pictures of myself from the early years of Hogwarts."

"Take them all—except," I make a grab for the one that features Harry laughing as he flies, "for that one."

He gives me a strange look. "Well…thanks."

"No problem. Hey, Harry? Are you…are you really angry with me?"

Harry sighs. "I want to be. I want to call you a heartless bitch and storm out, but I don't think that I can do that."

"Do you think that I'm going to end up with seventy cats?"

"Do I think what?"

"Never mind. Do you think that things will always be awkward between us?"

"I don't know. That's up to you, I suppose. You know where I stand when it comes to us, Gin. Next move is up to you."

My mouth nearly falls open. "You still want to be with me?"

"You think that one self-righteous rant is going to scare me off? I told you that I like you, I meant it. But I don't fancy putting myself on the line again, Ginny. When you make up your mind, you know where to find me."

"But—"

He heads back to the door, "We better go back out there before your mum sends out a search party."

I silently follow him out into the hall, more confused than ever.

Will nothing stop him from liking me?

And, more importantly, do I even want him to?

A/N—Sorry that it's short, but I really have to get to this damn rehearsal thingie…and I wanted to post so that I could impress myself once more with my quickness. And apparent lack of life…lol!

Umm, so this was less angsty, right? And Ginny wasn't that bitchy, lol.

I think I'm in a slightly better mood now. Ah, the wonders of writing. Review please!