Have you ever had one of those moments where for a second you're happy that you are right, then horrified at the actual guess? I hope that they all know that the only way that I could be happy about this is if hell freezes over. If then. Of course, I wouldn't be even considering going at all except for the fact that Mum would be disappointed in me for the next decade if I didn't make a quick appearance. Shall I just run in and then book it back out?

Unless you've been a Ginny Potter in a past life, I would guess that you seriously have no idea what it means when there's a family get-together. I would like to state for the record, however, that family party is pretty much a direct translation to hell on earth. I stare at him for a moment, and wonder what he will do with my body, after I die from the pain that this party causes me. Hopefully, I'll just be cremated so that I won't have to haunt some ghoulish headstone for the rest of my eternal existence. Though I'm thinking, that, you know, because it's me, that there is definitely a high chance of haunthood.

Whoa. If you actually think about what I've just been thinking about, it makes next to no sense. I've never actually thought about cremation until Great-Aunt Muriel finally died, and her will said that she was to be buried. Which, for your information, never actually happened because Mum and everyone else were bloody terrified she's come back and haunt the tiara or something, and Fleur wanted it for her daughters. Of course, I was definitely expected to argue but I decided there was really no point. It would definitely clash with our hair. So I just kind of... let this treasured heirloom pass on to the other Weasleys. And I definitely agreed with the overall assessment of the situation. I mean, how could you give your daughter a tiara to wear on her wedding day, and have it ruin the whole ceremony because her dead Great-Great-Aunt Muriel popped out of the tiara for a visit? So, after many arguments, we finally just got her toasted and Mum went and scattered her bits in the ocean, you know, just in case. I, personally, am now permanently afraid of the attic, because that's where they had her body sitting until they could finally agree on what to do with her. Gag.

That, and marrying Bill, are the only sane decisions I can ever remember Fleur making.

Right, back to business. Harry's just staring at me, likely shocked that I have yet to run screaming from the room. I make a reflex decision, and stand up.

"Let's go. Time to pack for that... er... surprise trip to Majorca we've been planning!" Yeah, I'm just that good. Majorca? Why Majorca? As far as I can remember, no one has ever even mentioned Majorca to me. Harry just raises a slim black eyebrow and his brilliant green eyes stare at me piercingly. Merlin, he's still hot. Seriously, Al's lucky that he looks like his dad and got none of the random Weasley traits.

Was I just thinking that my son was hot?

Focus, Ginny, focus.

"Majorca?" He says curiously, sounding like he's trying to stifle a laugh. Probably something that I should try to remember why he's laughing, but I'm too scared to even bother.

"Hurry!" I urge, "they'll find out soon. They're always listening, for flight plans." And for some reason, without even meaning to, I cock my ear toward the wall. Okay, maybe I am a little insane. At this point, Harry is not even trying to hide his laughter.

"Ginny, I think we're just going to have to face the music. I mean, between your entire family, even if we fled I think we'd be brought back here within a week."

"Well, we can experiment with that idea then!" I say as inspiration strikes me. I turn my puppy dog face towards him, forgetting that he's not my dad, and that I'm begging him to just pick up his entire life and flee just because I'm scared of a silly little party. Except, of course, it's nowhere near little.

"Ginny..." I can tell by the way he's looking at me that I have already lost. Good Merlin. I want to cry. "We can't just go. You know as well as I do that they'll find us and that there is basically no point in running other than to prolong the whole thing. And why, in the name of Merlin, am I talking about them like they're the bloody Mafia?"

I smirk at the last comment. Well, they deserve it. But I would have to say that my family is actually a hell of a lot more scary than the bloody Mafia.

Maybe we can see if we can find connections between my brothers and the Mafia and get them arrested. I can see the moment now... I am a rather vengeful person occasionally. Better make sure to keep this hidden from Harry till the kids are thirty.

"Fine," I snarl. "I'll go, but I'm going to hide in the kitchen with Mum the whole time."

Suddenly, the inspiration for another argument against going strikes me in the head. Hello, Captain Obvious!

"Well," I smirk evilly, "what do you think Al's going to have to say about this development? Think he's gonna be pleased, Potter? Or James? Lily? Make sure not to give them any sugar this morning, because they are going to be getting more than enough tonight!"

It's sad that even though I'm a Potter, I call him Potter when I'm angry, and he calls me Weasley. Though I can definitely see why a person would say Weasley like a cuss.

Harry blanches at this thought. As he very well should. Those kids are bloody dangerous at these parties. And with sugar... well, let's just say that is one of the many reasons I have to dislike these parties.

Of course I love my kids, but they can be quite a bit insane when they want to be. And I get very, very frustrated when they make me play all these random games at random times when I'm already bloody tired.

"We'll tell them together," Harry decides.

"I believe you were the one who was convinced me that it was safe to go to this party, Potter. I think telling the kids is definitely your problem." Especially Al. I'm definitely going to watch as he breaks the news to that kid. I actually feel bad for Albus.

Payback for all those missions, Harry!

I resist the urge to laugh evilly. It's harder than it should be.

Harry just looks nervously at the stairs. I watch as he turns his head from them to me and back again. Hehe. This is truly enjoyable. And I'm just getting into a bloody fantastic Snape-like sarcastic mood. To tell the truth, sarcasm is, when the kids aren't around, my way of life.

As I'm sure you can tell.