Author's Notes: Well, I suppose this is your Halloween gift. All the candy that I've had in the last day has pretty much made me a very happy person. So, here you go!

Disclaimer: Nothing that you recognize is mine. I mean, obviously.

For the record, I love Harry Potter.

Thank you so much honey, for catching that bloody Snitch. I will never ever make fun of your Quidditch skills again. Or at least until you lose another game.

Everyone on my team cheers, and of course I pull him up and give him a congratulatory snog. Which is probably disturbing to my children, but who really gives a damn?

I certainly don't, not when he's kissing me like this!

Censoring my dirty thoughts. Trust me, you don't want to hear them.

"GET A BLOODY ROOM!" I hear Ron call. So typical of him, apparently some things never change. If anything, Ron seems to have gotten even less mature. What an idiot.

Then again, he's an idiot with torture devices.

I grin, and pull away from my saviour. Sigh. It's like love.

"WE WON!" I call to George, and he lands, looking a bit sour. "YOU HAVE TO PULL ANOTHER NAME!"

Oh, and there's one more thing that makes me a little giddy.

"AND I DON'T HAVE TO READ!"

There's something about his face that is scary and very intimidating. I'm starting to think that winning was a very bad idea.

"Alright, Ginny," George says as he comes to land next to me. "No need to yell!"

"Who's going to read if Aunt Ginny isn't?" Roxy asks her father, sweet as sugar. "Aunt Ginny actually can read."

"Well," George says, a neutral expression on his face, "I guess she's passed the torch to me."

That is so not good.

"Uncle George!"

"Really?"

"You're a good reader, Uncle George!"

The kids apparently feel the need to express their joy about his reading out loud. I would say that I feel more horror than anything, but hey, I'm just Ginny, right? No one in this family apparently cares about my feelings on any subject at this party anymore.

I'm starting to feel like I've made a dreadful mistake.

Everyone starts to mosey off on their lonesomes, for another hour of free time. And then we start the bonfire, which is an issue in itself.

But hey, at least I don't have to deal with any big group activity for awhile.

I wander off toward the house, and Hermione joins me.

"You alright?" She asks me, looking at me suspiciously.

I shrug.

"You've made it pretty clear that you don't want to be here," Hermione smirks. Damn, my pretending plan doesn't seem to have worked out very well.

Hermione really is no help to a person. She's just too Merlin-damned perceptive!

For some reason, that not one of us has been able to figure out, she actually enjoys these parties. I mean, why the hell would she like them? They're like the anti-Hermione. Chaotic and unorganized, two major things she hates.

I'm starting to think that the only reason she likes them is because she is a very sadistic person. She's enjoying my pain here way too much.

And everyone thought she hated Bellatrix Lestrange. I'd have bet a thousand galleons on it.

Now I have come to the conclusion that they had a secret relationship. Maybe pen pals?

Then again, maybe she was just a bad apple from the start. Though she did appear good through most of Hogwarts.

Good girls go bad, though.

Obviously. She married my brother.

With all these thoughts occupying my head, I was definitely not listening to anything she said.

"...so, that's what George is planning to do," Hermione finishes her explanation.

Why, oh why, did I choose to take that moment to zone out? I could have heard the whole bloody plan!

"Er, could you repeat that?"

Hermione looks affronted. Come on, please take pity on your only Potter sister-in-law!

"Well, why would I bother if you are so obviously not interested?" Hermione snapped, and was about to walk away from me when I grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards me.

"Please?" I said simply, for it's Hermione. She doesn't really fold to bribes, does she?

"All I'm going to say," she smirks in a very-Malfoy like way at me, "is that you deserve what you have coming to you."

Whoa. What does she mean by that?

"What?" I ask worriedly. "At least give me a hint, please Hermione?"

"Nope," she looks me in the eye. "You know, everyone expected me to be the one that hated these parties. Never Miss Ginny Weasley, who could overpower her brothers with a single hex!"

"They took my wand!" I cry, and she looks at me.

"Have you seriously not figured a way around that yet?" She asks incredulously. "Ron and I figured one out on the first day, so that we could bring them in if we had to! The only reason I don't is out of respect for your parents!"

Damn respect for my bloody parents. If she had a teensy little bit less of respect for them, I'd be able to nick her wand right about now!

"Audrey, prissy AUDREY, figured out a way around it." She still looks stunned. Well, maybe I would have figured a way out back when I was a teenager, not now that I'm old!

You know, it's really not a good sign when you start calling yourself old in your mind. I haven't even hit forty.

Well, what can one do? As I'm pretty sure someone once told me, acceptance is half the battle.

Though I might have made that up on my own.

I'm already losing my mind.

"So you are trying to get me to rebel against the current set of rules that are enforced at the Weasley Family Party?"

She nods kind of jerkily. She knows that if anyone finds out, she will be in trouble for relaying this kind of essential information.

Wait, what am I thinking?

Merlin, I'm doing that thing again where I act like the family is part of the Mafia?

If you think about it, this is a seriously weird kind of crazy. It's not like the Mafia is a big factor in life anymore.

So when I refer to gang groups, why do they always come to mind? I mean, there's enough terrorist groups to pick from as scare tactics in the Middle East this, well, century!

"Well, how do you propose I get my wand back now? Dad's already got it," I whine, and Hermione just rolls her eyes.

"How about you just ask for it?"

Huh. That might work. I knew there was a reason Ron kept her around.

Now, just to get him alone. That could be a teensy bit tricky.

I'm Ginny Potter, I can do anything!

Yeah, and the Pope's a Protestant.

AN

Like I said, your Halloween present. I tried to carve a Voldemort pumpkin. Didn't work out too well. Sigh. Next year! Part of the problem might have been the fact that where the mouth went was molding or something. Nasty.