Disclaimer: I don't own anything even remotely related to Harry Potter, except a little bit of merchandise.
Chapter Five: Protective Perseverance
"Gin-olly!" an all-too-cheerful voice called out as Ginny came in the Burrow's back door. She had the door only halfway open when a second, identical, voice rang out with, "Olly-Gin!" Ginny paused in the doorway and winced at the greeting.
"Ginny?" came a third, quieter voice at her shoulder.
She shot a sheepish glance at the be-spectacled boy behind her. "They like to find strange ways to combine my first and middle names sometimes. Please don't ask me why."
"Ask you to explain the twins?" Harry's tone was amused, but she avoided looking at him for fear she would start blushing again. Despite her best efforts, and all the time they'd been spending together lately, mostly in the company of Ron and Hermione, she continued to blush rather easily around him. It was really beginning to irritate her.
"Right." Ginny took a deep breath and finished pushing the door open.
"Mo-nevra-ly! We know it's you!" called one twin from the living room. Ginny decided to ignore them.
"Yes," agreed the other as Ginny removed her sunhat and hung it on a hook on the wall of the mudroom. "Hermione and Ron came back ages ago, so it has to be you." Ginny began checking the soles of her shoes for loose dirt and mud. Nope, nothing on the right shoe. She picked up her left.
"Although," the first twin (she was pretty sure it was Fred) continued for his brother, "we've noticed that young Harry is missing as well." Ginny continued staring at the sole of her left foot, but it was as clean as the right, unfortunately. She'd really been hoping for an excuse to avoid whatever the twins were on about for a little longer.
"Yes, interesting that," George said. "He and Ron went out to look for Hermione, but he wasn't with them when they came in a bit ago."
Ginny's head came up and she dropped her foot to the floor with a horrified thud. "Oh no."
"Ginny?" Harry asked again, concerned this time. He had long ago finished examining his own shoes.
"Oh no," Ginny repeated. Her brothers were using the tone.
"So we were wondering," Fred finished, "any chance he's with you?"
Ginny cursed, quietly and very quickly. They were using that too-casual tone they only used when they were planning something—something big—and they were trying to lure their prey into their tangled little web. She didn't know why her brothers cared that she and Harry had come in after the other two, but she really didn't want to deal with their whatever it was they were up to—although the reason for her tardiness was perfectly innocent…if by innocent you meant deviously trying to play matchmaker for a shy bookworm and her stupidly oblivious love interest. Ron and Hermione had been having one of those eye conversations again, so she and Harry had sneaked off to give them a chance to be alone together for a while. Since the house wasn't ringing with her mother's happy exclamations and the good-natured ragging of her other brothers, Ginny assumed they still hadn't gotten the hint…dumb boy. Ginny was certain that if Ron would just get his act together and tell the girl, Hermione would happily reciprocate. As it was, Hermione thought she was beneath Ron's notice. She thought she was plain! But Hermione simply lacked self-confidence; she was fully aware of her feelings even if she wouldn't admit them. Ron, on the other hand…Ron was oblivious. And dumb. Especially since it was apparently the cause of the twins' current bout of plotting, regardless of the fact that she still couldn't fathom why they cared. She paced back and forth across the mudroom once, briefly considered making a run for it out the back door, then stopped and glared into the kitchen.
"I will not be afraid to come into my own house," she murmured determinedly. "They cannot make me afraid."
"Gin?" Harry asked softly. "Why are the twins stalking us?"
"I thought you weren't going to make me explain the twins!" she hissed desperately.
"That was before they started stalking us!" he hissed back.
"Ginny!" came the call from the living room. "Quit dawdling and bring your little friend in here."
"What do we do?" she asked frantically.
"I don't know! Can we make it back outside?"
She shook her head. "Too late, they heard the door, they know someone's come in." Suddenly Ginny whirled around and grabbed one of Harry's hands. "Listen, they're my brothers so I stand a better chance than you do. I can distract them while you make a run for it."
"I can't leave you alone with them!"
"There's no sense in sacrificing both of us! At least one of us should be allowed to survive."
"Then let me be the one to face them!"
"No Harry, you have to live so that you can destroy Voldemort!"
"But—"
Ginny shook her head. "Sacrifices must be made for the greater good," she told him soberly. "You can't save the world if the twins get you first. This is something I have to do."
"Okay," he told her reluctantly.
"Ginny!" called the twins, sounding truly impatient now. She winced.
Harry squeezed her hand. "Good luck," he whispered
She squeezed back and released his hand. "Go!"
Harry took a step back, then spun on his heel and bolted out the door. Ginny watched him go, then squared her shoulders and headed for the living room.
She stopped short just inside the door.
The twins had rearranged the whole room. Every single piece of the cozy, soft, cushy furniture that had filled her living room since before she was born was gone. In their place, the twins had transfigured a table, two large leather armchairs of an intimidating nature (which they were occupying, sitting up straight as they never had in school with both hands folded on the table-top), and two small hard wooden chairs, which sat empty across the table from them.
"Do Mum and Dad know about this?" she asked, gesturing to the room at large.
Fred fixed her with a thin-lipped smile. "Dad's at work and Mum's gone to run a quick Order errand. What they don't know won't hurt them." Ginny inwardly cursed—who in their right minds would ever think the twins should be allowed to practice unsupervised magic? Why hadn't the Ministry taken steps to prevent this…this…well, there wasn't a word in existence that could accurately portray the horror of it, but nevertheless, who would allow it?
"Have a seat, Gin-bug," George told her quietly, gesturing to one of the wooden chairs. She really didn't want to. The wooden chairs were much smaller than the big leather ones; the twins would tower over her if she sat in one—somehow she thought that might be the point. Nevertheless, she slowly crossed the room and sat down.
Fred leaned forward on his elbows until he was looking down at her. "Where is your friend, Ginny?" he asked, an eerie tone to his voice that matched the manic gleams in both their eyes.
Bravely, Ginny lifted her chin. "I came alone," she lied.
"Hm," said George, speaking just as strangely as his brother. "We'll see about that. In the meantime, why don't you tell us about what you did today?"
Ginny gulped. "What I did today?"
"Yes, Ginny," Fred told her softly. "Start with 'I went out to take a walk with Hermione,' and continue on until you finish all the interesting bits."
Ginny started to protest, "What interes—"
"Ah!" George interrupted, holding up one finger to forestall further comment. "I went out to take a walk with Hermione…" he prompted.
Ginny sighed and adopted a mutinous look, but complied. Something about the looks on their faces made her nervous…
"I went out to take a walk with Hermione," she began.
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"Look!" Ginny told the twins hotly sometime later, "we've already been over this three times. I am not doing it a fourth!"
"Ginny—" George began, but Ginny leapt to her feet.
"No!" she shouted. "No more! We are done here! I am leaving!"
"Gin," Fred sighed.
"Leaving!" she shouted again, and marched out the door. She stomped up the stairs and stormed into her bedroom, startling Hermione rather badly. Ginny didn't even notice her, just slammed the door behind her and collapsed onto her bed face first, muttering continuously into her duvet.
Hermione, who'd looked up from the book she'd been reading and promptly frozen at the look on the redhead's face, now set her book down and cautiously scooted across her cot until she sprawled half across her bed and half across Ginny's. She wiggled until she was comfortable and reached out to brush the hair away from the near side of Ginny's face so she could see her better. Not that there was much to see with her face squashed into the bed like that. "Harry told me the twins ambushed you on the way in," she said in a quiet voice.
Ginny growled and explicated more muffled words into her mattress.
Hermione sighed. "I don't suppose I want to know what you're saying, do I?" she said, mostly to herself. Then, in a voice Ginny could actually hear, she continued, "Was it really so bad?"
There was a long, silent pause. Finally, Ginny let out an explosive breath and relaxed her shoulders. "I think I might hate them," she growled, voice still muffled, but understandable.
Hermione blinked. "You love your brothers," she asserted confidently.
"I think I might hex them," Ginny told her emphatically, tilting her head to view her friend through narrowed eyes.
"Okay." Hermione studied her expression for a long moment, then nodded once as she came to a decision. "Okay," she repeated. "I'm going to leave the room now. I shall leave the room and walk very far away from the door. That way, any horrible, disparaging, possibly foul things that may be said in this room in the next hour or so will not be heard by me. As things I do not hear may be assumed never to have been said, no one remaining in this room will feel any need for guilt for having said them."
Ginny stared for a second or two, then snatched Hermione's hand up and hugged it. "I think you might be my best friend in the whole world, Hermione."
"Luna Lovegood is your best friend," Hermione told her.
"I can have more than one," Ginny replied. She released Hermione's hand and the brunette promptly stood up and went to the door.
"Give me two minutes to get to the end of the hall," she said. Ginny nodded, and Hermione slipped out the door, shutting it quietly behind her.
Ginny loved Hermione dearly and didn't want to offend her, despite her own anger and her impatience to vent it, so she waited very patiently for Hermione to get out of earshot before she began soundly swearing at her absent identical brothers.
Now Ginny was not particularly proud of her cursing prowess since it was something she tried not to use terribly often, but she did have six brothers, all of whom tended towards dirty language (some more than others) and several of whom had left home for various career fields—which had exposed them to all sorts of new places, people, and in some cases, countries, where they had picked up an assortment of new words and phrases to carry home on holidays. Her brothers, being male, had this thing about competition, and the result was a long string of verbal attempts to one-up each other in increasingly vulgar language that peppered Ginny's memory from a very young age.
Ginny was a smart girl; she had a wickedly creative mind, and, thanks to her brothers, an endless source of new vocabulary. They tried to be properly ashamed for their part in her education (as her mother blamed them, of course, for teaching her baby to "cuss like a sailor"), but…well, she could curse fluently in three and a half languages and strip a man down in two minutes flat with what they'd taught her—which was just good self defense, they figured. Mostly they were proud of her.
So when her two minutes were up and Ginny started swearing, she did it competently, thoroughly, and utterly ruthlessly.
She cursed everything she could think of, starting with the twins' recent actions and moving on from there to past infractions (of which there were many), personality faults (of which there were many whenever Ginny was angry), looks (not bad, but honestly, a good round of insults must include disparaging remarks about looks—and parentage, but she wasn't about to touch that one since they were, after all, her brothers, and very definitely shared the same parentage that she did) and finally, the day they were born. When she was done, twenty minutes had passed, and she felt a little better. So, since she had the time, she spent another twenty minutes cursing all the things that had been frustrating her lately: Voldemort, her inability to join the Order, Percy's superiority complex, her mother's tendency to hover, the exercise program Bill had forced on her, and this stupid thing with Harry (though she was very careful not to curse Harry himself). When she was done she felt a lot better…and just slightly guilty. She really did try not to swear, but when she was angry it was just so hard!
Ginny then spent some time just lying on her bed, fiddling with the ruffled edge of a pillow while she thought about life. She decided that, under the circumstances, things really weren't too bad. Sure Voldemort was a murderous dictator wannabe with a huge Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and the world was going to pot, but she had a family who loved her (even if Percy was a right pompous git) and great friends—she was happy. And her mum was wonderful, even if she did hover. After all, what would her life have been like without her mum's voice, her warm hugs, the cooking she put all her heart into every day to show her love for her family? Mums were wonderful things. Then Ginny had a thought.
Maybe Voldemort just needed a mum.
Ginny snickered at the idea, and of the mental image that accompanied it of her eleven year old self waving a finger in Voldemort's snaky face and shouting at him that he needed a mum very very badly just before Harry locked him in a room with his new adoptive mother to the sound of Voldemort's terrified screams and the flash and bang of celebratory fireworks. It was such an odd image, especially since Voldemort hadn't looked like that when she was eleven, and it was the nearly sixteen-year-old Harry that was locking him away, that she suddenly found herself laughing until tears came to her eyes and she had to go looking for one of the linen hankies her mother had embroidered for her to wipe them away. Just about the time she was done calming down, although the occasional chuckle still slipped out as she refolded her handkerchief and ran her fingers through her tangled hair, she came to the realization that her Stealth Sensoring Spells were sounding.
Now she and Bill had actually cast several variations of the defensive spell around her door and window, and the hall outside her bedroom, but they had done it for educational purposes—the best way to learn a spell, Bill had told her, was to actually cast it. That was why he'd gone to their father and asked him to request permission from the Ministry for Ginny to do out of school magic. Ministry policy on underage magic stated that under special circumstances, underage witches and wizards may be allowed, under the strict supervision of their family or a certified educator, to study magic outside of school. Since the Ministry was still in a bit of a panic over the invasion of the Department of Mysteries that spring, it had been easy to get them to agree to allow Ginny to study magic under her brother's careful eye for the purpose of defending herself in future. As soon as her certificate of approval had come in, Bill had started her learning a variety of defensive wards ("one of the best ways to stay safe is to be in a well protected environment") and alarm-sounding charms ("forewarned is forearmed"). Thus, a long afternoon of walking around in circles in her bedroom, casting and recasting Stealth Sensoring Spells, as well as a slough of others, until she could do them to her brother's satisfaction—that is, until she could do them in her sleep. They had never removed the charms because why bother? But they had certainly never expected them to come to any use either. So when she noticed they were going off, she had a frozen moment of shock that there were actually people trying to sneak into her room.
Before she really had time to wonder about it, though, instincts still in the process of being trained by Bill kicked in suddenly, and she dove for her wand, snatching it off her bedside table and whirling to face the door just in time to cast a lightening fast defensive charm to block the spells already whizzing her way. There was a flash of arcing light and a cloud of smoke as the spells collided with her shields and rebounded, followed quickly by a couple of thuds and some gasping startled sounds, then nothing. Ginny was fairly sure there was no longer any danger from the culprit, or culprits, who had attacked her, but she kept her wand up in a defensive position while she waited for the smoke to dissipate, just in case. While she waited, she felt anger blossom somewhere in the vicinity of her stomach and clench. Hard. She had some nasty suspicions about who she might find on the other side of that smoke, and if her suspicions were correct, there was going to be some serious retribution happening here.
But when the air had cleared, it revealed…two people she'd never seen before. They were extremely tall, upwards of six feet, with dull blond hair, dishwater blue eyes, and pasty skin. They were also exceptionally skinny. She could see individual bones in their wrists, hands and ankles, revealed by their too-short pants and their lack of socks, and she was positive that if they weren't wearing shirts, she'd be able to see shadows between their ribs. It took her two whole minutes of staring to realize…that she did know them after all. Although no one could blame her for not recognizing them; the fact that they wore the identical faces of Fred and George was the only remaining clue to their true identities.
That and the fact that there were two of them, and this had been an attack of purely Fred-and-George proportions.
Ginny was so shocked to realize that the two strange men in her room were really her brothers that at first she forgot to be angry that they had tried to attack her. Instead, she was trying to figure out why, exactly, they looked so strange. She watched them straighten themselves out and help each other up as she tried to puzzle it out, but whatever spell they had tried had had some very strange side effects, and try as she might, Ginny just couldn't understand its original purpose. Although she did find said side effects rather amusing. Finally, she simply asked them.
"Why are the two of you blond? And tall? And…thin?" Ginny snickered a little bit.
"Oh don't be kind, Gin. You can say it. We're scrawny," George told her, examining himself delightedly.
"Well, yes. Okay, but—" Ginny began
"Skinny beyond all healthy explanation," Fred interrupted enthusiastically. "It's disgusting really."
"Sick-making even."
"Exactly what we were going for!" The two shared a wicked grin.
"We are geniuses," said Fred.
"Exceptionally talented, if I do say so myself," George agreed.
"Yes. Except that we are tall, blond and skinny."
"Yes," George looked down at himself, "that was unplanned."
"Umm, hello?" Ginny cut in, frustrated, and more than a little suspicious of their motives. "That was exactly my point. Why are you tall, blond and skinny?"
"Because you blocked our spells, I'd imagine," said George, looking at her as though she were stupid for asking, because, of course, she'd been the one to block the spells.
That's right, they attacked me. Ginny growled at the reminder. "Yes, I know." She took a deep breath to keep control of her temper and tried again. "Why did your spell make you tall, blond and skinny?
"And male."
"And male?"
"Yes. If you had been hit by our spell, you'd have been tall, blond, skinny, and male."
"Male."
"Yeah, but, you know, we're male, so you can't really tell that part."
"Wait, your spell was supposed to make me male?"
"And tall, blond and skinny."
She stared at them a moment, trying to process exactly what had just happened, but all that was getting through was the fact that they had done it on purpose. On purpose! It wasn't some strange side effect, like she'd thought at first; they had purposely tried to turn her into a tall, blond, skinny boy! A boy! She was furious. "I knew it!" she yelled. "I knew you couldn't go without pranking me! You're always pulling some kind of stunt like this, and I just knew this time I would be your target. 'Oh don't worry Ginny, we're only after Quidditch,' you said. But really you were just trying to lure me into a false sense of security! I knew you couldn't resist! It serves you both right, to suffer what you would have imposed on me!"
"Well, yeah, that's probably true," said George.
"Yes. But it does mean we're back to the drawing board. After all, we can't let this little matter go undealt with," said Fred with a frown.
"That's true," George murmured with a frown and a quick glance at Ginny.
"Okay, what is going on here? This is a very strange prank, even for the two of you. You're up to something more devious than usual, and since it obviously involves me in some way, and the possibility of future pranks, I demand to know what it is!"
"No worries Gin," Fred assured her, "we're done pranking you."
"We are?" George asked, shooting his brother a surprised look.
"Oh, yes."
"But—"
"We will handle this matter," Fred cut George off pointedly, "by focusing on someone else entirely." Fred turned back to Ginny. "So you have nothing more to worry about from us." He smiled tightly, and Ginny suddenly became aware of a very dangerous gleam in his eye.
"Right," George added, clapping his hands together decisively. "We promise, Gin-bug, you are entirely safe for the duration of our stay."
"But after that, well—"
"we can't make any promises, you understand. We need new test subjects and all that." George shot her a wicked grin.
"Yes, and good help is so hard to find."
"Isn't it though?"
"And what else is family for after all?"
"Exactly!" George rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Speaking of new test subjects, Fred…"
"Yes," Fred murmured, the danger back in his expression, "speaking of…"
George pulled Ginny into a playful hug. "We'll see you later, Gin-bug. Things to do, you know, places to go—"
"—people to torture horribly," Fred finished with a satisfied smile, following his brother out the door.
Ginny trailed after them, bewildered. "What?"
"Give our love to Mum and Dad and the rest of the family if we don't make it down in time for dinner, would you Gin? There's a love."
"Hold it right there!" she cried, fed up. She pointed her wand at their backs, beyond caring about the dressing down she was sure to get from Bill for abusing her exemption from the rules against underage magic if she hexed them. "I mean it," she growled when they kept right on walking. Both boys froze.
"She's got her wand pointed at us, doesn't she?" asked Fred.
George chanced a glance over their shoulders. "'Fraid so, mate."
Fred shook his head sadly, turning around. "To think the day would come when our own family would point a wand at us in violence."
"And our baby sister at that."
"What is this world coming to?"
Ginny's wand didn't waver. "I want to know what's going on here, and I want to know now."
"Well, Gin, I'd thought that was fairly obvious. We tried to pull a prank on you, and we failed—"
"—so now we're shifting our attention to someone else."
"Can we go now?"
"Why?"
"So we can prank someone else, we told you already."
"Or did you mean why are we pranking someone else? Because if it bothers you that much, we could try pranking you again."
"Yes, if you're jealous, Gin-bug, all you had to do was say so."
"I meant," she hissed angrily, "why did you try to prank me? WHY!" she cried finally, throwing her free arm out in exasperation.
"Oh. Right. That." They exchanged uncomfortable looks.
Ginny's eyes narrowed instantly in suspicion. She knew they were up to something! "I'm waiting," she told them quietly, finally lowering her wand and crossing her arms over her chest.
"Well, see Gin, it's like this…" George trailed off and looked helplessly at his brother.
"There are people in this house, people of the male persuasion, who are not related to you," Fred stated diplomatically.
"Right," said George.
"And these people may or may not be attracted to you," Fred continued.
"Right," George agreed helpfully, his expression going just a little feral.
"So we just thought we'd take care of the problem," finished Fred.
"Right," said George, and there was a strange satisfaction in his eyes.
"Let me get this straight. On the off chance that one of the numerous unrelated males who come in and out of this house due to family friendships or Order related business may have an interest in me—which is highly unlikely, by the way, as most of the men who come through here are twice my age, complete strangers, practically family or a combination of the three—you tried to turn me into a tall, blond, skinny boy."
"Er, yes," said George.
"That sounds about right," added Fred.
"You must be joking."
"Er…no."
"You're mad, both of you. Completely gone 'round the bend," she whispered in horrified awe.
"We are not! We have a relatively attractive," Ginny spluttered at this, but George plowed on, "baby sister. It's only right for us to feel protective."
"Protective?" Ginny finally spat. "You're disturbed!"
"We are not! We're not the one wandering around with some sort of Oedipus complex. That's disturbed," George told her, looking all dangerous and hoveringly protective again. A glance at Fred revealed an identical glowering expression.
Ginny frowned in bewilderment. "Oedipus Complex? Who—" Ginny froze, a flash of memory recalling a picture in an album of a lovely redheaded woman laughing in the arms of a tall, gangly man with hazel eyes and round, wire-rimmed specs. Lily and James Potter. Lily, Harry's redheaded mother.
"Harry!" she screeched. "You, you think he…! And, and…me! Because…my hair?" she spluttered and fell silent, thinking furiously. They thought…! And they had tried to…! How long were the effects of this spell supposed to last? How long would she have…? And what if someone else asked them why they looked like this? What, she thought horrified, if they told the truth? That they thought Harry…and she…!
"It makes perfect sense after all," Fred was telling her. "We figure, if you're the very opposite of what he's obsessed with—"
"—the very opposite of yourself, that is," George interjected.
"—then he'll quit looking at you like that!" Fred finished on a snarl.
"Harry doesn't look at me at all!" Ginny cried, flinging her arms out with the passion of her response. She waved them about a bit more as she continued, utter fury lacing each trembling, shaking word, her whole body practically vibrating with the force of her anger. "He and I are just…You honestly think that…You think—Harry! But—did you miss the practically family part? No!" she held up a hand when they would have spoken, furious tears now pricking at her eyes. She blinked them back. "No! No, no, no, no, no! I'm leaving." She turned and stalked off down the hall, ignoring their entreaties as they followed after her. When she reached the top of the stairs, she whirled on them, wand once again raised to the level of their noses. "I'm leaving!" she reiterated. "But we are going to have a good long talk about this when I am in a less murderous rage."
"Look on the bright side, Gin!" George called after her. "At least it didn't work!"
Ginny let out a scream of rage and tore down the stairs before she could really have a chance to reconsider going up their and hexing all their manly bits off. Just to see how they liked the idea of changing sexes.
"I hate boys!" Ginny yelled as she stomped down the stairs. Her only reply was the sound of wicked laughter, and she shot a glare at the half wall at the top of the stairs that hid her brothers from her sight. "Aaaaargh!" She screamed in fury, taking the last of the stairs at a run and stomping into the living room. "I hate boys! I hate them I hate them I hate them!"
"Ginny?"
Ginny turned around to see Hermione, looking up at her in concern from her place between her two best friends on the Weasley's couch.
Her two best friends who happened to be male.
Ginny pointed her finger back and forth between them. " You-and you…you…you." Finally her finger settled on Ron, and with an inarticulate shriek, she launched herself at him.
"Woah!" he cried, leaping from his seat just in time to avoid her and send her crashing down into the cushions where he'd been sitting.
Hearing her growl of frustration as she tried to straighten herself out and get up at the same time to come after him again, Ron quickly reached out and grabbed Harry's arm.
"We'll just come back later, when she's not so, so…"
"Irate?" Harry offered.
"Yeah," agreed Ron, that. And the two boys darted out the door.
"Gin?" Hermione patted the girl's hair soothingly, ducking her head down to see under the mass of red that seemed to be everywhere, including obscuring her face.
Ginny grunted in reply.
"Gin, what's wrong, why are you so upset?"
"You're fraternizing with the enemy!"
"Okay, but that's not what this is really about. I thought you were venting your frustrations to an empty room in order to calm down. What's happened that's got you screaming hatred through the house instead?
"I hate them!" she snarled.
"I happen to know that isn't true."
"'Tis today."
"No it isn't; if I'm not mistaken, there's at least one boy whom you like very much."
"Today I hate them all."
"Gin, really. What's the matter?"
Ginny sat up suddenly, waving her hands around her face to remove any hair from it, and looking at Hermione with speculative suspicion. Then stuttering in her fury, "My brothers are…are…are all…they're all-"
"Gin," warned Hermione, seeing the look on her friends face, and attempting to head off any swear words.
Ginny growled inarticulately before hissing, "Oh Fine. They're all utter pillocks, that's what they are! And I hate them."
Hermione, knowing this wasn't true, looked at her friend for a long moment, considering. "What if we had a male free day huh? How would that be?"
"Girls' day?" the redhead whispered, anger abetting. "No boys?"
"No boys," Hermione agreed. "A girls only day."
Ginny considered a moment.
"Okay."
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Next Chapter: The very first Girls' Day! That's right, next time we get to see the very beginning of the boyless tradition so beloved in Seasonal Suffering. How exciting! Unfortunately this means there will once again be a shortage of Harry/Ginny Ron/Hermione moments, but…it's all for a good cause (read: furthering the plot), I promise. And who knows, maybe I'll take pity on you all and throw in a little something unexpectedly! Hmmm…something to think about. Until then!
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