AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so, welcome to PyroSymptomsUnleashed's Summary Of Useless Facts And Pointless Information. First thing: my parents are divorced. Yay. Second thing: my ear cartilage is pierced. Yay. Third thing: England is out of the World Cup. Not yay. Fourth thing: I have an art page at deviantart-dot-com, not spelled out like that, but as a normal web address. My ID on there is bungled-and-boggled. Yay. Uhh...fifth thing...uhh...did you know twelve offspring birthed at the same time are called duodecaplets? I did not know that. Now I do. And so do you.

DISCLAIMER: Not mine unless it is, anything else belongs to J.K.Rowling.

Mistakes Made

Chapter Three: Femininity and Gladiator Wars

Pansy lit a candle with her wand. She and Ginny were kipping together in her old room, much to Draco and Blaise's repugnance, as this meant that their sex lives were to remain deader than expired doornails, which, gone to meet their makers, had pushed up dozens of daisies, and kicked many, many proverbial buckets.

Pansy's advice was to revert to homosexuality.

Then at least they'd have a spare room. Draco and Blaise's response was to try and beat each other to the bathroom to relive some of their dinner from that evening.

Ginny leaned back on the bed. "So, where have you been, Pans?" she asked, the question she'd been saving until they were alone and away from the Doltish Duo. Pansy shrugged, a frilly see-through top slipping off her shoulder. "Here. There," she shrugged again. Ginny was starting to dislike Pansy's overt femininity. "I stayed in Greece for a while. Skipped over to Budapest. I just travelled around a bit," she said, rolling over to conjure another candle. Ginny eyes widened at the curves Pansy's stupid frilly knickers showed off. Perhaps she should give this femininity thing a shot…

Ginny sat up as Pansy turned back to her, her chin on her knees. "Pans, you know who you're talking to," she said sternly. Pansy looked up. "It was for Dumbledore, alright?" she snapped, melting the candle with her wand. "Christ, I can't keep anything from you, can I?" she asked, contorting the hot wax into what suspiciously looked like a voodoo doll. With red wax hair. Ginny shook her head. "Not until you die. Now, explain," she instructed. Pansy groaned, squishing the doll. Nothing happened. "Damn," Pansy muttered. "Boring Ministry shite. I went around, keeping score on the Death Eater actions. I compiled my report and came back, and before you ask, your brothers are fine, and yes, it looks like we're winning, but I'm not saying anything definite." By the time she was done, she had transfigured the wax into a large helical structure.

Ginny eyed it warily. "Hmm…I don't suppose Contraception Charms are any less expensive out of the country, eh?" she mused. Pansy shot her a glance, vanishing the wax tower with her wand. "Why on earth would you ask?" she questioned, a grin forming. Ginny frowned. "So I lied about the rich lovers thing and I'm just as hard-up for a hard-on with a hard-hat as anyone," she mumbled, poking a candle into flight around the room. Pansy arched an eyebrow. "Hard-hat?" she asked dryly. Ginny's candle slammed into the wall. "Muggle term, for protective head gear," she replied tersely. Pansy's eyebrow was still arched. "For protection."

Pansy nodded. "Ah, I see. Can't run the risk of any more Weasleys?"

Ginny scoffed. "Mum was unlucky enough with Fred and George and she didn't have my abominable luck, which would probably get me knocked up with thirteen little Anti-Christs the first man I slept with. No, there's got to be a way around that ruddy Ministry ban," she mused.

Pansy's face slowly rose like a lazy sun. "Speaking of shagging and your lovely twin brothers…" she trailed. Ginny's face dropped in horror. "You didn't!" she hissed, gagging, and rushing to the loo to look for a toothbrush. Pansy decided to stop her when Ginny pulled out a plunger. "I didn't sleep with your brothers…twit," she spat. Ginny reappeared, looking queasy. "Right," she said, sitting down calmly. "Sorry. Please continue," she mumbled. Pansy scoffed, shaking her head. "Someone's taken one too many bludgers to the head," she quirked. Ginny glared. "Right, so anyway, about your brothers…in an entirely non-sexual way…they've got their own joke shop, right?"

Ginny nodded slowly.

"Well, they do trade with lots of other magical corporations and with the Ministry and such, yeah?"

Ginny's head seemed to be moving up and down in super-trippy snorting-pixy-dust slow motion, which, thinking back to the one time she'd done it, was not a pleasant experience.

"So, they have connections in, say, the department that's got such a tight ban on those little Contraception Charms, eh?" Pansy asked.

Ginny caught on, finally, with the speed of a special Olympic runner. "I like the way your mind works, Parkinson," she cheered, conjuring two glasses of wine for a toast. Pansy took a sip and leaned back on her elbows.

"Now that you mention it, though, twins are rather sexy, aren't they? And your brothers are bloody tight blokes, aren't they?"

Ginny swallowed her wine with difficulty. "I hate the way your mind works, Parkinson."

……………………………………………………………………………

Dear Fred and George,

Hope you are still alive. Chances are, mum's already found out what you did to the Patil twins last month and she's beaten you to death, in which case, bollocks to you, and see you at the funeral. If you are by any chance, safe, or at least insufficiently maimed, I have a favour to ask of you. You two clever, wonderful brothers wouldn't have any top cut connections in the Ministry who could get hold of say-two?-Contraception Charms, now would you? Any chance? Do this for me and I won't tell mum about that time with you two and Fleur. Get me four and I won't tell Bill, either.

Much love, your evil, conniving, blackmailing, heartless little sister,

Ginny

Before the day was out an owl delivered four very precious boxes to flat B12, 402 Ferris Street, Upper London. Ginny smirked, handing Pansy one of the boxes. The Slytherin grinned, accepting it. "What are you going to do with the other two?" she asked as Ginny tucked one box under her pillow. The redhead grinned wryly. "There's two lusting, shag-deprived blokes in this house and I have two Contraception Charms, what do you think I'm going to do?"

"Set up a gladiator-style match in the living room and pit them against each other for sole possession of the charms?" Pansy hazarded, looking excited. Ginny eyeballed her. "Why do I suddenly have the impression you have a thing for watching men fighting in little leather skirts?" Pansy frowned, as if the answer should be obvious. "Because I do. Nitwit."

"Right."

…………………………………………………………………………