Growing Up.

Molly was feeling stressed. Rumours had reached her, via Xenophilius Lovegood, that her youngest child was dating. It's not that Molly wasn't expecting it sometime, but she had thought she had a year or two left before Ginny took that leap. The girl was only thirteen after all, nowhere near old enough to be kissing and cuddling with boys. Yes, Fred and George had been precocious that way, too, but Ginny just seemed so much younger than her brothers, and she seemed more vulnerable too. Maybe it was just because she was a girl, or maybe because she was the youngest, but Molly was more worried about the effects on Ginny of early dating. It looked like it was time for another of 'those' talks, as Molly had taken to calling them in her head.

Ginny was home from school for the summer, and Molly chose her moment carefully. They had just finished picking strawberries from the garden, eating almost as many as they gathered and both were relaxed and carefree. They had laid their baskets down and were lying in the scented grass at the back of the property. Ginny flipped onto her stomach and squinted at her mother .

'Mum? Did you know when you met Dad that you would marry him?' Ginny had a curious tone to her voice that was half-hopeful and half-anxious. Despite trying to appear as relaxed as she had mere moments ago, Ginny's body was tensed. The answer clearly meant a lot to her.

Molly's breath swept out of her as she realised that her daughter really was dating, but she kept her voice calm as she turned towards Ginny.

'Maybe not right away, but I knew before we started dating that he was the one for me. He was always so kind and thoughtful, and he never once minded if I shouted, and even then I shouted a lot.'

Ginny giggled, but sobered quickly. Her fingers kept scratching at the grass even while she squinted up at her mother. 'What if there was someone you thought was the right one, but he didn't notice you, so you went out with someone else and then you thought he might be the right one, too?'

A soft smile crept onto Molly's face as she remembered her own teenhood, and her voice was gentle as she answered. 'Ginny, not everyone is like your father and I. Most people need to date more than one person before they find that one they really connect with. You're young, you have plenty of time to work it out.'

Molly sat up, and clasped her hands around her legs. She took a deep breath and steeled herself to have this very difficult talk with Ginny. Ginny was idly playing with a clover that had peeked up through the grasses, and was paying her mother no attention at all.

'Ginny?'

'Yeah?'

Her mother hesitated a little before she said, 'are you ... seeing someone at school?'

Ginny sighed in resignation as she, too, sat up, fixing intense eyes onto her mother's face. 'Who told?'

'Well, I heard it from Xenophilius Lovegood. Luna's in his house, you know. Your boyfriend's.'

'I know, Mum. It's not that big a deal though, honest.'

'Not that big a deal? Ginny, going out with a boy is a big deal no matter when it happens. But at thirteen ... it's a huge deal.'

Ginny huffed, the laziness of the day forgotten. 'I'm fourteen next week, and it is honestly not a big deal. Yes, I'm thirteen, but so what? I'm not a baby and I'm not doing anything with him, and before you say anything, I know all about sex and I'm not rushing out to do it.'

Molly's face twisted at the word, but she remained calm as she answered, still with her arms clasped around her legs.

'It's not always planned, though, Ginny. Things can get out of control, and you're only thirteen and you're not ready for what comes with the new things you're feeling.'

Ginny's face became mutinous. 'And what am I feeling, Mum? You don't know, you have no idea. You're assuming things about me that have no basis in fact.' The grass was pulled even more viciously from the ground as Ginny avoided her mother's eyes.

Molly sighed, but kept her tone as light as she could. 'You're right, I don't know specifically how you're feeling. But you just got through asking me how you know if someone is 'the one' and I know what that means.'

Ginny stood up abruptly and towered over Molly in her anger. 'No, you don't. You assume that because I'm going out with someone that it's a slippery slope to a life of debauchery. Well, I have news for you. It's not. You never did this to the boys when they started dating, but because I'm a girl you think I'll automatically become a fallen woman.'

The venom in Ginny's voice startled Molly and she tried to answer, but Ginny stalked off, leaving her mother speechless. How on earth did that conversation go that bad, that fast? She sighed and got to her feet. She'd give Ginny a little time to cool down then approach her again. It was never a good idea to try to talk to her daughter when she was angry, and Molly knew she had blown it somehow. The delicate trust between them had shattered, and she needed to regain it. Perhaps the first port of call would be rethinking her assumptions about her daughter, and maybe she needed to listen to her rather than talk at her. She headed into the house deep in thought.

A few hours later, Molly determined that enough time had passed that her daughter might be receptive to seeing her again. Ginny hadn't come down to dinner, telling a very surprised Ron that she wasn't hungry. With some trepidation, Molly knocked on the door to the smallest bedroom in the house.

'Ginny? Ginny, can I come in please?'

There was no answer, which Molly took as enough invitation to enter the room, and carefully shut the door behind her. She looked at her youngest child, lying scrunched up on her bed steadfastly facing away from her mother, taking in the newly gawky angles of her body. Where had the small child gone? The one who had skinned knees and untidy hair because she tried too hard to keep up with her brothers? This Ginny had grown into a tall young woman. It was no wonder that boys were starting to pay attention. While Molly's back had been turned her daughter had stopped being a little girl.

She sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed, and reached towards Ginny's shoulder, pulling back as the girl twitched away from her.

'I'm sorry, Ginny. I handled that all wrong. Before we talk any more, I need you to know that I trust you. It was just a shock to find you growing up before my eyes, that's all.'

There was a mutinous mumbling from the depths of the pillow that Ginny had buried her face in, and while Molly couldn't hear the words, she understood the meaning very well. 'Stop interfering in my life' sounds the same no matter what volume it's mumbled in.

'I just don't understand. What happened with Harry? I thought you liked him?'

Ginny did sit up then, and glared at her mother, though still clutching onto the pillow as if it was a lifeline. 'You mean, you wanted me to like him because he's safe and you can keep tabs on him the same way you can with me.'

Molly reached out towards Ginny, but pulled her hand back when Ginny flinched away again, wrapping herself even more firmly around the pillow.

'Ginny, you know that's not what I mean,' Molly sighed. 'It was always Harry with you but suddenly it's this other boy. Where did it come from?' As an afterthought she added, 'and Harry is anything but safe, dear.'

'Michael likes me, he notices me. He pays attention to me, and Harry never did that. Harry was a fantasy, Mum, Michael is real.'

Molly swallowed back a reply. This was exactly what she had been worried about. Thirteen, nearly fourteen, was too young to be dealing with the realities of a relationship. Molly would far rather have had her daughter still indulging in the sweet fantasy of the boy who was so close to the family, but it seemed Ginny had moved on before her parents were ready for it.

'I understand dear, I really do. But please, just promise me you'll be careful. These emotions can hurt you even if you don't mean them to, even if you don't, what was it? Indulge in a life of debauchery.'

Ginny gave a reluctant chuckle, but still remained steadfastly wrapped around her pillow.

'I know, Mum. But he's nice, and we aren't doing anything much, honest.'

Wondering what 'much' entailed, but knowing not to press her child, Molly smiled at her.

'I know, and I do trust you Ginny. Just ... just be careful, OK.' She brushed Ginny's hair back off her face before standing up to leave the room.

Ginny watched her mother leave the room and sighed heavily. She knew her mother meant well, but she could be so infuriating at times. And for all she said she trusted Ginny, it was clear that she still thought that 'things' would happen if Ginny had a boyfriend. It's not fair she thought. Fred and George had been flirting and having meaningless relationshipsat her age, and yet her parents had never tried to keep them pure and innocent. She snorted at the idea. Fred and George had never been pure, she was sure. They'd probably come out of the womb playing pranks and flirting madly with everyone in sight. She sobered quickly. That still didn't make it fair. This was just one more example of how being the youngest (and the girl, she added with a sneer) was a burden. It was like her mother was actively trying to stop her from growing up.

It didn't help that Ron was showing no signs of being interested in girls other than his friend Hermione, who was 'safe' in Molly's terms because she was a known entity. He and Harry were both quite ... Ginny cast around for the right word ... quite ... backwards, maybe. Well, anyway, neither of them had exactly grown up and really started to think about the opposite sex in 'that' way. That made it harder for her parents to accept that Ginny, herself, was growing up. Ron's innocence was yet another barrier to Ginny's growth. She sighed. It looked like she was going to have to forge ahead by herself. There was no way Ginny Weasley was going to stick around waiting for her brother to grow up before she did so herself. And her mother was just going to have to learn to live with that.