A/N: Okay, I have to admit I'm even more excited about this than I thought I would be. 100 reviews-wow! Thank you all so much :D Here's the extra chapter, as promised. I'll post Chapter 13 on Wednesday.

keeptheotherone

Chapter 12

Bill had spent most of his time fuming over Ginny's denial and plotting his conversation with Ron before deciding to skive off work. He found Charlie sitting alone at the kitchen table with the new copy of Quidditch Weekly and a bowl of dates.

″Where is everyone?″

″Mum and Dad are out, Percy took Fred and George shopping for Ginny—″ the brothers exchanged a look of responsible exasperation—″Ginny's holed up in her room, and Ron's doing homework.″

Bill choked on a seed. ″I'm sorry, I thought you said Ron is doing homework.″

″I did.″ Charlie closed the magazine and tipped his chair back. This was strictly forbidden at the Weasley table and therefore engaged in whenever their mother was out of sight. Bill hadn't even realized he had done it until Charlie copied him. ″Hermione wrote today.″

Bill grinned. ″Again?″ He had been so distracted by Ginny and Amy that he had hardly taken the piss out of Ron at all. Poor kid was probably feeling neglected. But since Charlie was alone. . . . ″How were the pyramids?″

″Fine.″ Charlie tipped his chair further, teetering on the edge of falling, in more ways than one.

″How's Amy?″ He hadn't seen her since they went shopping for Ginny's presents.

″Fine.″

Bill pinged Charlie's forehead with a date, somewhat mollified when it broke Charlie's concentration and he landed on all four legs with a swear.

″Ask her yourself,″ Charlie said. ″I don't kiss and tell.″

Bill almost overbalanced, then caught himself by shifting his weight. ″So, you did kiss her.″

″What if I did? She's not your girlfriend. She's not mine, either.″

Bill felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. He shifted his weight again. Charlie was balancing with apparent ease, even swinging one leg back and forth. Bill supposed it wasn't all that different from balancing on a broomstick, and Merlin knew Charlie could do that in his sleep.

″You never did tell me what's up with you and Tonks.″

″Let it alone, Bill.″

Bill studied his brother's expression, then conceded with a clattering of chair legs. ″I'm going to 'help' Ron,″ he said, relieved to see Charlie smile, even if it didn't reach his eyes. ″Don't let Mum catch you doing that.″

()()()()

Bill knocked on the door on the left side of the landing and entered.

Ron looked up. ″Oh, it's you.″

Ron and Percy (and sometimes Charlie, who was bouncing between the guest cottage and Bill's flat) had been holed up in here for nearly four weeks, and even Percy's usual neatness was taking a hit. Two beds were unmade, Percy had simply thrown the duvet over his, various items of clothing were scattered on the floor, schoolbooks were piled haphazardly on the desk, which also had a few quills and random bits of parchment cluttering it up, and Bill had to move a stack of laundry just to sit down. If Ron didn't agree to help him persuade Ginny to come into the Core, he could always threaten to complain to Mum about the state of this room.

″I thought you might need some help with your homework, but you look like you're doing fine.″ This was the most blatant lie Bill had told in some time. Ron's hair was standing on end, his right hand was dotted with ink stains, and the bin and the floor surrounding it were full of tightly wadded balls.

Ron made a noise in the back of his throat and threw down his quill, splattering ink in a wide arc. ″I got another letter from Hermione today, so I thought I'd better get started on a reply so she could get it before September, and then I thought she'd really like it if I told her I had one of my essays done, so I started on Charms because I thought that would be easiest, but it's not, and now I've spent all afternoon revising, and I haven't finished the essay or written to Hermione! How did she come up with five pages of stuff to write about, anyway? She just wrote three days ago. I haven't even replied to that letter, and she's written more than a page per day!″

Bill lounged on the bed, enjoying his brother's distress immensely. ″Girls talk a lot,″ he said mildly.

Ron snorted and chucked another piece of parchment in the general direction of the bin. He frowned at the sheet in front of him. ″Why do you think she wrote to me again when I hadn't replied yet?″

Bill smiled. ″She misses you.″

Ron's ears turned pink. He continued talking to Hermione's letter. ″It's weird, not seeing her every day. Harry too,″ he added. ″But with Hermione, it reminds me of—″

Bill sobered. ″Of when she was Petrified?″

Ron nodded.

Bill took another look at the cluttered desk and floor. Ron was really trying; there was no doubt this was important to him. Bill didn't have the heart to take the piss, considering.

He held out his hand. ″May I?″ Somewhat to his surprise, Ron passed him several sheets of parchment. She did talk a lot, about a lot of different things. No wonder Ron was overwhelmed. Not to mention the pressure of wanting to impress her, which couldn't have been plainer if Ron had written it in color- change ink.

″Look, she says right here that she knows you haven't had time to respond to her previous letter, but she wanted to know if you heard about Sirius Black's escape. Start with what you think about that.″ That was bad news, that was. Bill remembered the wizard who had killed thirteen people.

Ron looked at him blankly. ″What do I think about that?″

Bill rolled his eyes. ″What was the first thing you thought of when you read it?″

″That only Hermione would bother to have the Daily Prophet delivered in the summertime, and worse still, to spend time reading it.″

″There you go.″

″I can't write that!″

″Would you have said it to her if she had told you in person?″

″Probably,″ he admitted.

″Well, then.″

Ron looked skeptical but obediently put quill to parchment. ″What's next?″

″She says she added an extra six inches to her Potions essay and wants to know if you've done any of yours yet.″

Ron groaned.

″Tell her you spent all afternoon revising for Charms,″ Bill suggested, getting into the spirit of the thing. ″That's true.″

Ron brightened and scribbled industriously. They continued responding point by point until Ron had filled two sheets of parchment front and back and was shaking out his hand. ″Check my spelling.″

Bill didn't bother to hide his amusement.

″What?″

″You're working awfully hard to impress this girl.″

″She's not a girl. She's my best friend,″ Ron said indignantly.

Bill laughed. Ron looked offended and tried to snatch the letter back, but Bill pulled it out of Ron's reach. ″She's still a girl, and you would do well to remember it.″

″So? Charlie's best friend was a girl. You and Amy are friends.″

″Ah—er—″ Bill cleared his throat and decided it would not be helpful to explain both he and Charlie had slept with their respective friends, and the complications that ensued. He returned his attention to Ron's spelling, corrected the mistakes with a tap of his wand, and handed the letter back. ″I'll post it tomorrow, if you like.″

Ron paused in licking the envelope. ″You'd better not add anything about me trying to impress her.″

″Because fancying a girl would be the end of life as you know it?″

″Yes.″ Ron sealed the letter by banging on it with an emphatic fist, then glanced at the clock.

Bill considered that as Ron pulled out his chess set. Hell, it was true. Once a bloke noticed the opposite sex, everything changed. He sighed. Ron was his youngest brother; might as well let him live the simple life for another year or so.

()()()()

Bill studied the chessboard. He hadn't been bragging when he told Amy that Ron was an excellent chess player. Bill had won their first match, but if there was a way for him to win this one, he wasn't seeing it. He moved his bishop away from Ron's knight. ″How is Ginny doing?″

Ron scowled but didn't hesitate in making his play. Bill suspected Ron had already finished this match in his head.

″She's okay. What happened this afternoon?″

″What do you mean?″ Which would Bill rather have captured, his rook or his bishop?

″She was pissed off about something, and Ginny loves to fly.″

″I want to take her into the curse breakers' training course and help her get comfortable around dark magic. Maybe work on her fear of the dark. She doesn't want to go.″ Bill watched as Ron's queen dragged his bishop off the board by the back of his robes.

″She doesn't want to go?″ Ron said incredulously. ″It sounds brilliant!″

″Help me convince her.″

Ron's enthusiasm died in an instant. ″It's impossible to get Ginny to do something she doesn't want to do. You know that.″

Bill moved another chess piece out of immediate, but not permanent, danger. ″This is important, Ron.″

″I know it is. But she trusts me. Checkmate.″

How had he— damn. Bill tipped over his king. ″You can come too.″ He was planning to bring Ron anyway, but he didn't have to know that.

Ron looked up from his king and queen's victory dance and his eyes widened. ″Are you serious?″

″If you help me persuade Ginny, you can come with us.″

″What was her excuse for not going?″

″She's not afraid of the dark, and her nightmares are getting better.″

Ron scoffed. ″She hasn't spent the whole night alone in over a week. She used to just come get me if she needed me, but the last few nights I've been waiting for Mum and Dad to go to bed and then going down to her room. It's getting harder to wake her up too.″

″Do you think we can bully her into it, like Percy did at Thebes?″

Ron shook his head. ″I think she's more afraid of you than anything.″

″Me? Why would Ginny be afraid of me?″

Ron placed his chess pieces back in their box carefully, almost tenderly. ″She doesn't want you to think badly of her.″

″I don't think badly of her!″

″What did you say?″

″I told her I wanted to give her some practice recognizing dark objects.″

″So, if only she had been smart enough to know the diary was cursed, she never would have written in it. No one would have been Petrified, and Harry wouldn't have nearly been murdered— again. You told her it was all her fault.″

Bill braced his elbows on his knees. ″That's not what I meant.″

″Of course not. But Ginny already thinks that, so—″ He shrugged.

″I could always Stun her and take her anyway. She's as light as a fairy.″

″No,″ Ron said sharply. ″That's what Riddle did. He manipulated her and tricked her and threatened her. She'll never forgive you if you force her.″

″I'm trying to help her. Why can't she just cooperate?″

Ron shrugged again. ″She's a girl, isn't she?″

Bill lifted his head. Sometimes, when you least expected it, Ron could be quite profound. ″Well then, what do you suggest?″

″Let's wait and see. Maybe if I talk to her after one of her nightmares, she'll change her mind.″

()()()()

"Happy birthday!" Amy smiled at the young witch who answered the door and extended her present.

"Cheers," Ginny said, smiling back at her. ″This is pretty.″ She traced the fluttering ribbon with one finger. "Come in. Mum just called for us to wash our hands."

Amy stepped into the cottage and was greeted by a roar of approval from its many occupants. She grinned; she didn't often get that reaction when she entered a room. "Hey, guys.″

Charlie stood to give her a hug and kiss her cheek. ″Hi, Amy.″

″Hi, Amy.″ Fred grabbed her next, and Amy found herself being passed from brother to brother like a football. By the time she got to Ron, on the far side of the room, she was laughing. Maybe this would be okay, after all.

But Ginny was scowling. ″She is my guest, not your lot's birthday present.″ Ginny took her hand, pulling her out of the crowd. ″Come on, you can sit by me.″

The brothers trailed them into the kitchen, where Mrs. Weasley was floating dishes to the table with her wand, and Amy found herself seated between Ginny and Charlie. Bill was on Ginny's other side, so Amy didn't have to spend the meal looking across the table at either of them. Ginny was a lively dinner companion, telling her all about flying that afternoon and asking what Amy had done at work that week, looking interested even when the answer was cataloguing inventory. They were about halfway through the meal when Mr. Weasley called for everyone's attention.

″Today we are celebrating the twelfth birthday of our beautiful Ginevra.″ He beamed at his daughter, who turned pink but smiled back at him. ″It's time for everyone to share a memory. Molly, you go first.″

Mrs. Weasley set down her fork and smiled at her daughter. ″Your first day at Hogwarts. You were so excited! You've been chasing the train ever since Bill's first year—″ Her audience laughed— ″when you were just a wee thing. And I was so happy for you, and then—″ She bit her lip. ″And then I was left standing on the platform all by myself for the first time, and I wanted to chase the train,″ she said ruefully, and her children laughed again.

Ginny looked at Bill expectantly— Amy assumed there was a general pecking order to this tradition— but the twins interrupted.

″Your Sorting,″ Fred and George said together.

″You looked so tiny—″ Fred said.

″And scared, and we thought the Hat—″

″Might actually fall over your shoulders—″

Everyone laughed, including Ginny. She wasn't that petite.

″And then the Hat just sat there—″ George said.

″And just when we were starting to worry it might put our baby sister somewhere where we couldn't watch over her—″

″And annoy her—″

″It shouted, 'Gryffindor,' ″ Fred said.

″What was the Hat thinking, anyway?″ George asked Ginny.

″It was thinking about putting her in Slytherin,″ Ron said dryly, and the table laughed again.

″My favorite memory of Ginny from this year was an envelope,″ Bill said, turning in his seat to smile at his sister. ″ 'Miss Ginny Weasley, Gryffindor House, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.' And this afternoon, watching you fly. I nearly killed Charlie the first time he took you on a broomstick.″

″No, your dad was the first person to take Ginny up, weren't you, Arthur?″

″No, Mum.″ Charlie grinned. ″That was only the first time you knew about.″

Mrs. Weasley's mouth fell open and then she laughed good-naturedly with the others.

″Charlie, you're next,″ Ginny said.

″Well, I did get a rather interesting thank- you letter last August.″

Ginny gasped and covered her face, which began to glow bright red around her hands.

″There was one line that said 'Dear Charlie, Thank you for my birthday present,' and the rest went on and on— for three pages!— about a boy named—″

″Harry Potter!″ Bill, Percy, Fred, George, and Ron shouted.

Amy put her arm around the girl, which was a little difficult as she had sunk so low in her chair. ″Don't embarrass her. It's her birthday!″

″But it's so much fun,″ Fred said.

″And easy,″ George said.

″All right, that's enough teasing,″ Mr. Weasley said, but he too was smiling. ″Percy, what about you?″

″My favorite is Ginny telling off Draco Malfoy in Flourish and Blotts last August.″

Ginny surfaced above table level. ″You heard that?″

Percy nodded. ″I was just the other side of the bookshelf. It was painful to watch you being so shy with Harry, and I was glad to see you talking in front of him. Malfoy was just a bonus.″

″But I thought last year Ginny hadn't met Harry yet,″ Amy said.

″Harry spent a month at our house last summer,″ Ron said.

″A month? You didn't tell me that!″ Amy said indignantly, turning to Ginny. ″We talked about Harry, and you never told me he was at your house for a month.″

Ginny shrugged, blushing again. ″There was nothing to tell,″ she muttered.

″Your crush spending a month in your house is not the kind of information you withhold from a girlfriend,″ Amy said sternly. ″You have been around boys too long.″

Ginny looked stricken. ″I'm sorry.″

Amy softened, hugging her again. ″I'm not angry, just surprised. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.″

″What about you, Amy? What's your favorite memory of Gin- Gin?″ Bill said.

Amy smiled. ″Pants,″ she said, and Ginny burst out laughing.

″What?″

″When we went shopping together, Ginny and I had an absolutely hilarious conversation about pants, because I didn't know it's the word you guys use for underwear.″

″We were walking out of Magical Witch,″ Ginny said, laughter in her tone, ″and Amy says, 'I need another pair of pants.' And I said, 'you just bought five pairs.' And she looks at me like I'm barmy and says, 'I've been wearing my gray ones to work almost every day—' ″

Everyone began to laugh.

″ And I said, 'Amy, you can't wear the same pair of pants every day!' ″ She was giggling hard, choking out words between breaths. ″And— and— she said, she said— 'Ginny, I wear them under my robes. It's not like I'm going to spill something on them'! ″

Ginny was crying, she was laughing so hard, so Amy took over the story, raising her voice to be heard over the laughing Weasleys.

″Ginny looked so horrified, I finally asked her what she was talking about. And she said—″ Amy began to laugh, remembering the girl's expression— ″She said, 'I'm talking about knickers. What are you talking about?' And then I got it. I was talking about trousers, of course,″ she added. ″We had a lot of fun that day, didn't we?″

Ginny smiled up at her, rubbing her eyes with the careless strokes of a witch who had never worn eye makeup. ″We did.″

″What about you, Mr. Weasley? What's your favorite memory of Ginny this year?″

Amy was surprised to see his expression sober instantly. In fact, he looked like he was trying not to cry. ″My favorite memory, Ginny, is seeing you come off the Hogwarts Express in June with a big smile on your face. That is my favorite memory of you this year.″

Amy remembered what Bill had said, Ginny was writing in a cursed diary last year, and Mr. Weasley's words took on a new level of meaning.

Ginny smiled at her father again, then turned to Ron. ″What's your favorite? And pick something good.″

Ron looked his sister straight in the eye. ″My favorite memory is seeing your face through that hole in the rock wall.″ One beat of silence, then two. ″And telling Fred and George about Percy and Penelope.″ He smirked, and the tension in the room dissolved.

″Ginny, you promised!″

Ginny laughed. ″Oh, Percy, with gossip like that? You had to know I was going to tell eventually.″

″You should have been sorted into Slytherin,″ Percy grumbled.

()()()()

Ginny had opened a pile of mostly clumsily- wrapped presents, and Amy was surprised to see that Bill had actually passed along her suggestions. Mrs. Weasley was taking her to get her ears pierced, Fred and George had bought her a pair of earrings, and Percy had found a beautiful green print skirt that was exactly the right size. There were some novels from her parents, a biography of the captain of the Holyhead Harpies from Charlie, and a Muggle diary from Ron. Ginny had stared at it doubtfully despite Ron's reassurances.

″I bought it in a Muggle shop, and it was all wrapped up. But I took that off to write in it, just to make certain.″ He took the book and opened it to the first page before giving it back to her. ″See?″

Amy didn't know what the boy had written, but whatever it was caused Ginny to clasp the diary to her chest with one arm and nearly strangle Ron with the other.

They had enjoyed delicious slices of chocolate cake with chocolate icing (Amy took hers sans the chocolate ice cream— she had eaten more than enough ice cream in the last week) and then Amy won her first- ever game of chess, thanks to Ron's assistance. There had been a tense moment when Ron had suggested she play Bill first, made more embarrassing by her and Bill's immediate shouts of protest, but Percy had gallantly offered to be her opponent and Amy accepted gratefully. She wasn't sure she believed the siblings' claims of Bill beating Charlie blindfolded last week, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Percy let her win (considering that Ron was explaining their strategy out loud), but now she knew exactly what to give Percy for his birthday: two hours with her VCR and a copy of ″Hamlet.″ His girlfriend had mentioned she thought he would like it, and he wanted very much to be able to tell her he'd seen it. It had been a wonderful evening with wonderful company, and Amy was surprised to find herself reluctant to leave when the clock chimed nine.

She thanked her hosts, fended off Fred and George when they looked like they were going to pass her around the room again, and paused beside the birthday girl. ″If I don't see you again before you leave, have a wonderful year at school.″

″I'm going to,″ Ginny said. ″Thanks so much for the pajamas, and for coming, and everything.″

″You're very welcome.″ Amy hugged her and whispered, ″I put my address in the shirt pocket. Owl me any time, and I promise, I won't say a word to Bill.″

Ginny nodded against her shoulder, then stepped back and looked at Bill. ″Well? Aren't you going to see her home?″

Bill looked from Ginny to Amy and back again. ″The last time I offered to do that, she just about bit my head off.″

″She was angry with you. She's not angry anymore, are you?″

Amy shook her head, letting the interaction between brother and sister play out.

″Ginny, Amy has been Apparating even longer than I have,″ Bill said. ″I'm sure she will be fine.″

Ginny frowned up at him, hands on her hips. ″What if I was in a big city far away from home? Would you want my friends letting me disappear all over the place?″

Bill opened his mouth, closed it, and looked between the two of them again, obviously uncertain as to how to make them both happy.

Amy took pity on him and smiled. ″Your brother's right, Ginny. I'll be home before you even get upstairs. Good night.″

She liked that witch. She really did.