Chapter 2

The Talk

It was the second week of the summer holidays and Ginny had been sent to tidy her bedroom. Storming up the stairs, she shouted at her mother, "I bet Harry's bedroom is as just as messy as mine!"

"I don't care! Are you Harry Potter?" screamed her mother, "And even if Harry was my son, he'd be doing exactly the same."

Ginny reached the landing outside her bedroom door which was plastered with her own hand-drawn pictures of her and Harry together. Not a speck of paint was to be seen on it and a sign was placed in the middle saying "No Entry! Unless you're Harry Potter" with a love heart drawn round it.

"Whatever!" she replied and marched into her room, slamming the door behind her. Her bedroom was just the same as her door. They were pictures of Harry on the wall, letters to Harry, poems to Harry and anything connected to Harry thrown all over the room.

A bright shade of pink could be seen in the gaps between the layered pieces of paper. Her bed stood at the far side of her small room but her duvet and pillow lay under the window. Ginny had stood at the window that very morning dreaming of how she and Harry could stand there and watch the sun rise. She began to pick up her tattered clothes from the floor that looked like they'd been there for almost a month.

"Fuck this," she moaned, "If mum wants this done, she can do it herself."

She picked up her mirror and looked into her dark brown eyes. They shone in the morning light and in the reflection she saw her notepad lying on her bedside table. Her eyes next moved to her flaming red hair. It was a mess and was tangled after the water fight she'd had with her brothers that morning. It was thickly covered with various items that had been thrown at her. Fred and George had thought it would be funny to change what they had in their water balloons resulting in her hair smelling and looking the way it did.

Ginny grabbed her pink fluffy towel and made her way to the bathroom to wash herself. As she walked up the third flight of stairs, a door opened behind her and Percy's voice was emitted from it.

"Erm… Ginny, can you come here for a second?"

"What now? I'm trying to relax, but no, people just have to interrupt me! What do you want?"

"Well… erm… Come in" Percy said and the door widened to allow her in.

She had never been in Percy's room before. She had thought of it as different from going in either of the others. They weren't so secretive or full of pride. Percy was much different to the rest of the family. He was smart, pompous and regarded himself as important. She entered the room and looked around. It was just as she had expected. The bed was made and there was nothing on the floor. His school robes were hung up in his wardrobe in a protective plastic case and his desk was organised into different types of belongings. On the wall were pictures of famous ministry workers and Gryffindor banners. The walls were the Gryffindor colours, red and gold, and they had magically been enhanced so that the Gryffindor lion appeared every so often.

Percy had been sitting at his desk doing a paper on the laws of Transfiguration. He pulled up a chair and invited Ginny to sit down. She put her towel on the end of his bed and closed the door. Wondering whatever Percy could want, she started the conversation.

"Well? What did you want then?"

"Mum wanted me to talk to you about something. Something important," he replied.

"Mum? Why didn't she talk to me herself?"

"Well, the thing is, she wants you to lay off with the constant chattering about Harry Potter. Ron is getting annoyed and so are mum and dad. We all know that he's famous and that you like him, but there is no need for you to go on and on about him. So just... you know... stop talking about him like that and that much. And also, mum wants you to get rid of those pictures on your door for when he comes round"

"WHAT? Why can't mum just keep her nose out of other people's business for once? Arrgh, she's so annoying"

"Yes... well... please just try, for Ron's sake as well as hers"

"OK... If you really want me to" finalising the conversation as she walked out of the room. She continued up the flights of the stairs in the hope of a nice warm shower without being interrupted again and without her privacy being invaded like it so often was.

"They can't tell me what I can and can't do," she thought to herself, "I'll do what I want."