weasley girl
This little Weasley is a girl...
”Just make sure that you don't read any of my work files. They are confidential you know, and I don't think Mr. Crouch would approve of you snooping, as it is official business. Also, no loitering about. These charmed dusters -" Percy handed both Ginny and Ron their cleaning tools with a mixed look of disappointment and self-importance. “ - will let mum know if you're doing what you ought to be doing or if you're procrastinating, so don't think you can get away with your usual slack work ethic.” Percy glared at his youngest brother, surmising that he was the bad seed in this duo. Ron gripped his duster fiercely and grit his teeth, trying to keep himself from beating Percy over the head for his self-righteousness. Once a Prefect always a Prefect, he thought.
“And do keep the noise down. I have enough to worry about with these new revisions for the Ministry of Magic dress codes without having to baby-sit the two of you.” Having imparted the necessary instructions, Percy exited stage through the door of his soon to be 'home office'; that is, when Ron and Ginny were finished unpacking and cleaning it as punishment.
“Like anyone really cares if the hem of the ministry robes is two-inches shorter.” Ron adjusted his stance and cleared his throat, a signal that he was to do one of his classic impressions. “Oh no! My robes are too short! You can see the cuffs of my trousers! Scandalous!” Ron then proceeded to squeal like a girl and run about the room for dramatic effect. If she didn't feel quite so guilty, Ginny would be rolling on the floor with laughter. Ron's anger and frustration was always a cause for hilarious antics of self-_expression. Except when you're the one to blame, then it's not so funny.
“Ron, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. If it weren't for my silly prank on Fred and George, none of this would have happened. You really shouldn't have taken the blame for me. Why did you do that?” Ginny half-heartedly dusted one of the Muggle lamps Mr. Weasley had presented Percy with as an 'office-warming present'. He had been so excited when he had learned of this Muggle ceremony from Hermione, that he could not resist the opportunity to indulge in such a tradition when Percy pleaded with his parents to give him Charlie's and Bill's old bedroom for his very own office space. The lamp was covered in seashells and had the word 'ALOHA' written out in bright orange coral on the shade itself. She wondered if Percy would secretly praise her for 'accidentally' breaking it, since he had seemed less than thrilled to get it.
“Yeah, well, it's not like I had much of a choice. Mum didn't exactly believe me when I told her I had nothing to do with it. You know she only gave you a good scolding because she thought I put you up to covering for me. Now I have to be stupid Percy's, stupid slave for the whole week!” He kicked each box for good measure. “What in the world possessed you to do it?” And by 'it', Ron was referring to switching Fred's and George's Quidditch beater clubs with one of their very own Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes prototype trickster beaters, during one of their afternoon games in the back yard with Ron and Ginny. It was actually quite funny that, Ron thought to himself, having Fred and George flying wildly in the air trying to escape their own rogue beaters until they collided into each other mid air--knocked off their brooms and knocked out cold. Yeah, he grinned. It was pretty funny that...but I'm mad at her, a week with Percy is no picnic. Why didn't I think of that gag? No. Mad. I'm mad at Ginny.
“Do you have any idea what it's like being the only girl in this family?” Ron blinked, uncomprehending. Ginny sighed. “It's kind of lonely. You, Fred and George you all do things together…” Ron still looked miffed. “You're all boys, and you all go out together, and laugh about boy things together, and have the same friends…you always play tricks on each other. You always get into trouble, sometimes even together, and go on adventures. And, and when Bill or Charlie come home, they get to do it too. And don't think I don't know that the only reason you guys play Quidditch with me is because mum makes you!” Ginny inhaled abruptly, suddenly remembering that she needed to breathe “…I. I just don't want to be left out. I want to be a part of it.” She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. When she said it out loud it sounded so stupid, so petty, but she couldn't help feeling like an outsider. She began to dust more furiously, back turned, wanting so badly to crawl into one of Percy's many boxes.
“Wha-? You make it sound like we're in some secret club.” The duster in his hand began vibrating madly and giving him small static shocks, as a warning for inactivity.
“You are, kind of, you're in the all boy Weasley-club. You guys are always so busy protecting me and making sure I don't do anything wrong when I'm with you, it's like you don't even want to be around me I'm so much of a hassle.” Ron was taken aback. He never really thought of it like that. “Well, what about Percy? He's anti-mischief.” Ah- ha, that oughta stump her, Ron thought.
“You all play pranks on him, and so he's part of the club too. He's the one who gets picked on and teased the most, but at least he's still in the club.” She felt a strange tightness in her throat.
“Okay, I don't get it.” This was not a new sentiment for Ron when it came to girls; he had been trying to figure Hermione out for years now. “What? You want us to play pranks on you? You want us to show you a secret hand shake? What?”
“Yes. I mean…no. Wait.” Ginny spun around and looked at Ron, crest-fallen. “There's a secret handshake too?”
“No. Jus- look, Ginny, you don't need to do anything to be a Weasley. You are one, you've been since birth, you prat. You don't need to pull a prank to prove that. And if we protect you it's because we love you. I love you, and ever since the whole Basilisk thing…we're that much more afraid of something happening to you. You're not a bother…” He rolled his eyes feeling like a complete sappy git. “…you're just too precious to lose.” He absentmindedly dusted Ginny's face to bring some humor to the sensitive moment. And there it was again, the stupid lump, it felt like a jagged rock in Ginny's throat and it hurt. She flung her arms around her big brother.
“Thanks Ron, you're a good big brother.” Ginny wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.
“No, I'm bloody brilliant is what I am. Now, hang on…” He handed Ginny the duster, gingerly sat in Percy's chair, and put his legs up on one of the many boxes and folded his arms.
“What do you think you're doing?” Ginny folded her arms.
“Well, I figure, since it was your prank, and since I'm the one who has to spend the rest of the week with Percy for it, I deserve at least this day off. You owe me, you do!” He smugly knitted his fingers behind his neck.
“Hrmph!” She grudgingly began to dust with both dusters. “So, Ron? What did you think of my prank anyway?”
'It was good, Gin.” She bristled with pride. “It was real good.”