Of Ravenclaws and Nosy Older Brothers
Author's note: once again, much thanks goes to my lovely beta reader Rosie. And again, some dialogue has been quoted directly from Goblet of Fire. All of the interactions around Harry are again JK's property, not mine.
The morning of the Quidditch world cup had come and gone in a blur. As Harry, Hermione, and Dad poked around with the tent, slowly but surely getting it set up, despite the elder Weasley's insistence upon setting it up without magic, Ginny could barely contain her excitement. All summer this day had seemed so far off, and now that they were finally here, with the cup merely hours away, she had barely been able to concentrate on the conversations all day. So, while Fred and George held their own running commentary as they watched the three bumbling around with the tent, instead Ginny had a seat around the unlit fire pit, imagining what it might be like to be here to play rather than watch.
She could almost hear the cheers of a distant crowd as an announcer shouted her name, feeling the exhilaration of the wind whipping at her face as she followed her teammates, all donning the traditional royal blue robes of England's Quidditch team.
"…And the rest of us will get some wood for a fire." Ginny was pulled out of her daydream as she heard her father approaching, Ron, Hermione, and Harry in tow.
She opened her mouth to protest, but Ron beat her to the punch.
"But we've got an oven. Why can't we just-"
"Ron, anti-Muggle security!" one look at her dad's excited face and Ginny had a feeling it was going to be a long evening, and dinner was going to be eventful. Or rather, more so than a regular night at the Weasleys, which was saying a lot, as dinners were generally punctuated with some new prank or other of Fred and George's. By far her favorite moment still remained the time when they snuck a fake, though realistic, tarantula onto Ron's plate while he wasn't looking. Of course, the two hadn't been allowed to leave their room for the next two weeks, and had even been forced to take dinner upstairs, but it had still been brilliant.
"When real Muggles camp, they cook on fires outdoors. I've seen them at it!" Arthur continued, his face bright with anticipation. In spite of herself, Ginny couldn't help but smile at seeing her father's face lit up with excitement. She might not have shared or even understood his zeal for all things Muggle, but seeing him looking like a kid was always fun, even if it would mean more hassle for them when it came time for dinner.
And so, she followed Fred and George away from their campsite in search of firewood, trailing behind her brothers, who seemed to be deep in conversation about something that most likely involved their latest product invention, and that was meant to be kept secret until the testing, judging from the furtive glances they kept giving her. Ginny rolled her eyes, feeling quite cranky. By this time, she was extremely fed up with being left out of everything. Despite what her brothers and their friends might think, she was not too young. Certainly not too young to be let in on supposed secrets, after all!
But her angry musings were interrupted as something flashed just past her nose. She jerked her head in the direction that the object had gone, eyes following the bright red ball of light, as it appeared.
"Good one, Terry," an older boy's voice asserted, and, just as the object was disappearing out of sight, a flash of light whizzed past her, and she heard a shout of "Immobilus!" and the object, which had stopped glowing, and was now revealed to be a small red disc, no larger than the palm of her hand, was directed into the waiting hand of a boy in his early twenties.
"Sorry about that," he apologized, glaring at a boy around her age. "Terry doesn't yet have control of his magical objects." He grinned at her and stuck his hand out. "I'm Jeremy Boot, and this is my baby brother, Terry." Terry, for his part, hung back. Ginny thought that he appeared to be feeling a bit sheepish, and more than a little embarrassed by his older brother's condescending tone.
"Ginny Weasley," she introduced herself, giving Terry a small sympathetic smile. "And I know of you, Terry. You're in my brother Ron's year, I think."
Before Terry could speak, Jeremy cut in again. "Weasley, you say? Your brother Charlie was a couple years ahead of me at school. Damn good keeper." He smiled hastily. "Er, you wouldn't mind keeping this quiet, would you?" he gestured towards the red disc, which he abruptly pocketed. "A bit of a secret, really. It's nothing too important, of course. But we'd appreciate you not telling your brothers or anyone else." With that, he gave another nasty look to his younger brother.
More out of pity for Terry than anything else, Ginny nodded. "I won't tell. I promise." She was spilling over with curiosity about the object now, given the funny reactions to someone else knowing about its existence, but, for Terry's sake, decided against asking any more questions.
"Good. Knew you seemed like a trustworthy girl," Jeremy grinned in what appeared to be his attempt at charming. Ginny noticed, however, that his eyes slid towards his little brother, and beneath the cheerful expression, he seemed to be quite angry with Terry. However, it was nice to be called trustworthy, especially with all the secrets floating around this week.
"Ginny! There you are!" Fred's voice interrupted the conversation as her older brother threw his arm around her. "Oh, hullo Boot," he said with a nod to Jeremy, who nodded back. An odd look crossed his face as he looked between Ginny and the two boys, but it was gone just as quickly, and instead he looked down at his sister. "Dad's going to take all night starting that fire, you know. We'd better hurry up and get the wood, or we might miss the start of the game."
"All right," Ginny said, tossing another sympathetic look towards Terry. "See you around," she said to the two boys, before turning and following Fred. Just before the two moved out of earshot, she heard Jeremy's voice again.
"Two centuries of a house secret, and you nearly blow it because you've got butterfingers! If Stewart knew…"
More secrets. At least, for once, she knew about something her brothers weren't aware of. However what exactly that was… well, that was the mystery, wasn't it? Though, really, the little red disc didn't appear to be that interesting. Though, she'd learned well before now that most things weren't quite as they seemed.
"George. Guess who Ginny was just talking to." Fred announced as they caught up with his twin. Ginny glanced up at Fred, still curious as to what the look on Fred's face when he'd met up with the two had meant.
"Who?" George asked, his arms full of firewood. "While you lot were off socializing, I was actually working, you know," he scolded. "Do you have any idea how difficult this is without magic? I don't know how Muggles do it, to be honest."
"Or why they do it when they have perfectly good stoves at home," Fred added. "But that's not important. Ginny was talking to the Boot brothers."
"Jeremy? Well, he was a bit of a stuffed shirt in his day, but otherwise not too bad. All the Ravenclaws are a bit like that, after all, aren't they? I mean, I suppose you must be, when you're in a house known for studying." George grinned. "Sometimes I wonder why Hermione wasn't thrown in there with them as well."
"Now George, no insulting Ickle Ronnikins' Ickle Er-my-nee. Anyway, that's not the point at all." He glanced down at Ginny. "The question, dear brother, is what our little sister was doing talking to a pair of Ravenclaw boys?"
"Oh dear. Fred, does this mean what I think it means?" George asked.
Ginny looked between the two, her expression darkening as the annoyance from earlier bubbled up. "If you two would stop that for just one minute and clue me into what in Merlin's name you're talking about!" she exclaimed.
Both of the twins turned to her, and Fred shook his head.
"Oh dear. And we'd hoped to prolong this at least another year." He and George exchanged looks, which only served to irritate Ginny further.
"Now, Ginny," George said, turning his attention back to her as he set down his pile of wood and the twins moved forward as one, both linking arms with her and leading her to a nearby picnic table, sitting her down.
"What in blazes are you two on about?" Ginny insisted, her face now burning with annoyance.
"Well, it seems it's time for us to talk to you." Fred began.
"About boys," George supplied.
"And the fact that they never have good intentions when it comes to girls." The two exchanged yet another look and then turned back to Ginny.
"Now, Gin," George continued, "How are your hexes?"
"My hexes are just fine, thank you. And if you two continue on with this line of discussion, I'd be happy to demonstrate. Well, Merlin, you're being ridiculous!" Ginny exclaimed, standing quickly, but the two grabbed her by the arms and gently but forcibly sat her right back down.
"You know, I liked it much better when she was sick with love over Harry. Least we didn't have to worry about him noticing. He is a bit daft when it comes to girls." Fred said to his twin.
"She's still sick with love over Harry though, aren't you Gin?"
Ginny glared up at her older brothers. "I am not!" she protested. "I mean, I never was, you know, sick with love," she corrected.
"Ginny, Ginny, Ginny," Fred shook his head. "Someone who would compare a bloke's eyes to a pickled toad-"
"In a singing valentine, no less," George supplied.
Fred smirked at his twin and then continued. "Quite right, someone who would compare a bloke's eyes to a pickled toad in a singing valentine could only be described as sick with love."
"Yes, but regardless of whether she's in love with Harry, we still need to teach her to watch out for other boys. They won't care that she's otherwise engaged, will they?"
"Quite right you are, George. And if she's hanging out with the likes of Boot's little brother, well…"
"Jeremy was quite the-oh, what's the word-heartbreaker, I suppose, when we went to school."
"Yes, he was known for running through girls fairly quickly, and if his brother is the same, well…"
"You think I'm dating Terry Boot?" Ginny exclaimed, finally realized what this was all about. She stood up again, brushing past them rather forcefully, shaking her head. "Not that it's any of your business, but you're both completely off your rocker. I'm not dating anyone, nor am I going to be fighting off scores of boys when we get back to school. Honestly!" she moved towards the pile George had set down and picked it up. "I've got my logs. I'll see you two back at the campsite." With that, she turned and left the twins standing in the wood, making her way back to where the two tents for her family had been set up.
Ginny had returned just in time to talk with Charlie and Bill, who had just arrived at the campground as her father commented on the passing Ministry members for Hermione and Harry's benefit. She threw smiles at the few that she recognized from having visited her dad at work, but for the most part steered clear of the 'Who's Who in the Ministry' talk, not entirely interested as she had no aspirations towards Wizarding politics, and had spent nearly her entire life hearing about them, not that she wasn't proud of Dad, but her mind certainly wasn't on the Ministry right now as the match grew closer.
As saleswizards began apparating every few feet, Charlie nudged her and grinned.
"Come on, Gin, let's get some souvenirs, eh?"
She smiled and followed him, purchasing a green rosette that chanted the names of Ireland's players. As they returned to the campsite, Fred and George accosted her.
"Ginny, you're not angry with us, are you?" Fred asked.
"Because really, we're merely looking out for your best interests," George asserted.
Ginny rolled her eyes and brushed past her brothers, letting out a tiny sound of annoyance.
"I liked it better when Harry was all we had to worry about," she heard George mutter.
"We never had to worry about Harry. And she wasn't speaking to us for awhile then, either, remember?"
"Oh, right."
Ginny's attempts at formulating some sort of reply for that were stifled as the sounds of a deep, booming gong rang through the woods.
"It's time!" her dad's voice shouted excitedly. "Come on, let's go!"
And, with that, Ginny rushed forward, nearly forgetting her tiff with Fred and George, and preparing to enjoy the largest Quidditch game of the decade.