Ginny was quietly sipping her morning tea when her mother bustled in. Ron, who had been groggily reaching for a fork froze mid movement, mouth still part way asking for the butter. It could have been the low rise jeans she had on, or maybe the blindingly blonde hair. Perhaps it was the stiletto heels. Ginny thought it was probably the miniscule white tee that read in gooey pink writing "Hot Mama". Harry's eye's widened and he leaned back slowly, hoping the insanity wasn't catching.
"Darlings! How I've missed you so! Come give Mummy a kiss," she held out her arms imploringly. Ron made a noise like a trodden spaniel. Harry's eyes bulged even wider. Ginny blinked twice then turned ominously towards the twins who were lurking in the doorway to the living room. She pursed her lips in a sinister way, death glare firmly in place and stalked over. Mrs. Weasley was still prattling in her odd falsetto voice, now headed threateningly towards Harry who was looking hunted.
"How long until it wears off," she whispered mutinously.
"I don't know what you're talking… about an hour," Fred confessed after Ginny menaced him properly.
"Sweet Circe, what did you do to her?" she hissed.
"Yummy Mummy syrup. It dissolves into drinks and is supposed to make the drinker become a 'yummy mummy' for about an hour or so," George informed her. "We put it in her morning tea. We needed a test subject."
"I think we got it a bit backwards," giggled Fred helplessly. Ginny sighed. Ron had yet to move and Harry stood, dazed and slightly swaying from his recent embrace. Just then, Mrs. Weasley toddled over, ensnaring her youngest daughter in a bosomy squishy embrace. Ginny tried to keep her bare feet away from the threatening pink heels. The twins snorted in laughter. Ginny began plotting her revenge. Three seconds later, she heard a squeak followed by a loud crash as Ron fainted dead away. The vise-like hug ended abruptly and Molly squealed,
"Arthur!" Sheer dread bubbled up in Ginny as she turned around. Mr. Weasley, fully bedecked with a blaring blue micro-mini and vast quantities of eye make-up flounced into the room. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw the twins collapse in a laughing heap by the door. Harry's aborted attempt to bolt died a pitiful death when he tripped over his shoelace. He was doomed to witness the scene at hand and be scarred by another hug or seven. Ginny walked purposefully towards the backyard, glanced around in exasperation, and shut the door firmly behind her. She would be back in an hour. Now, she was going to Luna's.