Just Ginny

By Adora

A/N Okay, I'm back! This was a bear to write with all the stuff I've been doing since school started. Also I have two words—Marching Season. I hope I didn't make anyone wait too long! Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I love you!

Disclaimer: Man, I hate these things. I know I don't own Harry Potter! Yes, it has taken many hours of therapy, but I now know that I don't own Harry Potter. They say that admitting is the first step toward recovery . . .

Chapter 3: The Weasley Way


"Ron," I pleaded. "Please, please, please try to be decent to Dean."

Ron sighed, "Ginny, I've already told you how I feel about this. I honestly don't see why I should give the time of day to that prat. He just isn't right for you."

Oh . . . he is so getting the bat boogey now . . .

"Why do you have to be such a git about this?" I screamed.

"Ginny, I..."

"No, don't even try. I know what you're going to say, and frankly I don't want to hear it. I know you're trying to act all big brotherly, but did it ever occur to you that I am perfectly capable of deciding for myself who is right for me?"

Ron shook his head. "Ginny, I know you can take care of yourself, but that doesn't mean I don't want to do it for you. I don't like Dean for you, I never have, and I probably never will. But for your sake, I'm going to trust that you know what your doing, and I'll try to be civil at dinner tonight."

I stared at him. "Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

Hermione's getting to him, that's all I can say.

Ron laughed. "So when I'm decent, I'm not your brother?"

"I never said that . . ."

At that moment my boyfriend decided it would be a good time to ring the doorbell—half of an hour early.

"Cripes, he's early. Hey, I'll talk to you later," I said quickly, hoping that when I got to the door it wouldn't already be too late.

It's too late.

There in the living room was Dean, and the two people that I had been hoping he would not meet. Just my luck Gred and Forge happend to pick today to visit the Burrow.

Coincidence? I think not.

"Dean!" I said rushing in, hoping to distract him from whatever embarrassing story my brothers were relating.

"Ginny!" he cried, hurrying toward me and picking me up and swinging me around, finally setting me down and kissing me.

I was hoping he wouldn't do that in front of my brothers, but right now a girl can't complain much.

Over my shoulder I heard the twins making gagging noises and calling for other brothers. I quickly pulled away and sent them both a death glare, while Dean gave me an inquisitive one. I brushed him off and moved to smack my brothers.

"Hey! What did we do?" George cried as I failed to smack him.

"You're a git, what else?" I said reasonably, giving up the attack.

Fred looked hurt. "We weren't the ones sucking face."

George smiled at his brother grimly and nodded, received one back and both of them moved to circle around Dean.

"Now, Deanikins, we have a few rules to put down, now that we've seen what you do with our sister in public . . ."

"We just need to make sure we understand each other. We like you Dean, but we like our sister more . . ." George continued.

Oh, Merlin.

"Now, rule number one never snog our sister in public. It doesn't look right," Fred said seriously.

"Especially after we eat," put in George.

"Right," Dean said shakily.

"Secondly, you hurt her, we hurt you. You mess her up, we mess you up worse. You make her cry, we make you wish you had never been born," Fred threatened menacingly.

Fred always was the protective of the two.

"Are you two done yet?" I asked calmly.

"In other words, do something stupid and your well on your way to becoming a eunuch." George said with an evil glint in his eye.

Dean broke into a sweat.

"Oookay! That is enough! You know, as much as I enjoy watching my older brothers threaten my boyfriend, we have a picnic that we really need to get going on. Come on Dean," I said quickly.

Dean practically ran after me, still sweating and breathing hard. "Do they do that to all your boyfriends?"

"Yeah, but that actually wasn't all that bad. When they first met Michael, they gave him an untested Skiving Snackbox, the poor bloke had an itchy rash of boils for almost two weeks."


After we ate our picnic and had a miraculous two hours alone, I spotted Fred, George, Ron and Harry coming with brooms on their shoulder and Hermione with her nose in a book.


Weasley Quidditch.

Now I happen to like Dean. A lot. He's a wonderful boyfriend. But the poor boy cannot play Quidditch to save his life.

Ron came over grinning. Apparently this secret is not so secret.

"Hey, Ginny. If I remember correctly we have a game of Quidditch planed for today!" he said smiling.

Fred joined in saying, "Why don't you and Dean play and we can have a three on three."

Ron nodded. "It'll be more fun that way."

"Dean doesn't have a broom," I said quickly.

Dean looked disappointed. I could tell he really wanted to play; the poor boy is in denial about his lack of Quidditch talent.

"He can borrow mine," Hermione called from her book.

Huh? Hermione has a broom?

Harry looked confused as well, "Since when do you have a broom?"

Hermione looked up and shot Ron a glare, "Since Ronald gave it to me for our anniversary."

Ron's ears turned red, "Mione, come on, I said I was sorry . . . How was I supposed to know that you wanted jewelry or some girly stuff like that?"

My brother is officially a dork.

I laughed. "You could have asked me."

Harry laughed too. "Ron, in all honesty it was a bit daft. Hermione hates flying, especially after those thestrals, even I knew that."

Hermione nodded hurtfully, though you could tell she was pleased that Harry was laughing.

"As much as we like to discuss how much Ronnikins does not know about women, George and I would much rather play Quidditch," Fred said impatiently.

Never get between that boy and his broom.

"I want to get going too, I haven't played in ages," Dean said eagerly.

Ron snorted. The last time Dean played was in a two on two match between him and Seamus against Ron and Neville.

Ron and Neville won.

How sad is that?

"All right, George and I are captains," Fred said jovially.

George smiled mischievously. "I get Harry!"

Fred frowned. "Okay, then, I get Ginny."

George's smile became wider. "Ron!"

"Oh, no, I get Ron—you have Dean."

"No, no, no dear brother, I called Ron."

"But you have Harry! You can afford to have Dean!" Fred pleaded.

"You have Ginny, she'll make up for him."

"I get the feeling your brother's don't like me that much." Dean muttered.


"Of course they don't. You're my boyfriend. But it's not that. Admit it Dean, you're horrible at Quidditch," I said with a laugh.

Dean looked hurt. "I'm not that bad."

"Dean, Neville beat you."


"Neville Longbottom. Face it Dean, Quidditch isn't your sport." I said comfortingly.

"I could be good if I wanted to be," he said quietly.

"I'm sure you could be," I said consolingly.

"HAH! I WIN! I get Ron! You have Dean!! You goin' DOWN!" Fred exclaimed.

"Oh, grow up, will you?" I chastised.

My brothers are almost twenty, yet they still have the maturity of a four year old.

George, however, seemed very put out. "All right, you heard him Harry and Dean, you're with me. Ginny and Ron you're with Fred."

Well, this should be... interesting.


Soon we were all mounted on our brooms, Dean on Hermione's new Streaking Star and me on my old reliable Nimbus 1700.

As we took our positions, I could tell that this was going to be an interesting game. We Weasleys had finally acquired our own set of Quidditch Balls the previous Christmas. We were playing with the Quaffle and the two Bludgers, the twins were playing Beaters, Harry and I were Chasers, and Dean and Ron were keepers.

Dean was doomed from the start as he flew up to guard the "hoops" (transfigured trees) he almost fell. I guess he just rose up too steep and didn't have a good enough grip . . .

Now I have a policy when competing against boyfriends.

Show no mercy.

Dean never had a chance.

The game ended 190- 80; we would have won by a bigger lead if Harry wasn't a halfway decent Chaser. But even Harry couldn't make up for Dean. The fool honestly ducked a couple times when I threw the Quaffle at him.

Now, as I've said before, I like Dean. But how sad can you get?

My twits for brothers weren't much help either, teasing him the whole time. Harry, though actually tried to help Dean.

And believe me, he needed it.

One time, when I tried to score Harry jumped in front of the hoops and intercepted my throw. Ron was laughing so hard that Harry was able to go on and score.

George and Fred weren't help at all; Bludegers kept "magically" heading toward Dean.

Of course, whenever this would happen, Hermione would scream maniacally about how you weren't allowed to attack the Keeper unless the Quaffle was in the scoring area.

For someone who hates Quidditch she sure knows a lot about the rules . . . (wonder why)

Anyway . . . Let's just say that Dean wasn't too happy about losing.

"I just lost to my girlfriend. I cannot believe I just lost to my girlfriend." Dean muttered.


"Excuse me, I'm hoping I'm hearing voices and I didn't just hear my boyfriend acting like a male chauvinistic pig."

Fred put his arm around me and said, "Sorry Ginny-Whinny I think you did."

Dean stopped. "Wait. Did you just call me a male chauvinistic pig?"

"Yeah, well when you're going around insulting your girlfriend's Quidditch abilities- WHEN SHE'S THE ONE WHO HAS BEEN ON THE HOUSE TEAM FOR, OH THE PAST TWO YEARS- you might begin to expect it!"

Now comes the part where Dean will try to be contorting.

"Now Gin, I think you may be overreacting just a little..."

"Don't you 'Gin' me. And if you think that I have no right to 'overreact' when you say things like 'I can't believe I lost to my girlfriend' you have another think coming, Buster."

Buster? Where the snapadoodles did that come from?

Somewhere from behind I felt Harry pull me back by the shoulders.

Great. I must be really fuming if Harry thinks he needs to hold me back to save Dean's life.

"Ginny. Calm down."

"Calm down? How can you expect me to...?"

"Now come on Ginny. You have a lot of adrenaline rushing to that brain of yours from the game. I think you should just let it go before you say something you don't mean to say."

Errrrgh. Why does he have to be right all the time? It's like he's some kind of mind reader.

"Oh. All right. But I swear if you say another..."

"He won't, right Dean?" Harry prodded.

Dean nodded furiously. "I won't. I promise. I'm sorry Ginny."

And then the idiot that I call my boyfriend did his second dumb thing for the day.

He leaned down and tried to kiss me.

"Uh-uh. No you don't. Not now Dean," I muttered.

"DINNER!" I heard my mum call.

Saved by the...mum.


"So, Dean. What do you plan on doing with you're life?" my Father asked.

Oh no. Not that anything but that.

"An artist. I just got admitted to Curley's Culture Center in Scotland. I'll be going at the end of this year." Dean replied.

My mother was not impressed. "Oh. That's...nice."

Dean was, of course, oblivious to my mother's sarcasm. "Yeah, I'm really excited. I'll be able to support myself and a family by doing freelance ads and things like that and still be able to pursue painting and sculpting."

Ron smiled. "How does that work with Ginny going to Charm School?"

Dean's smile faded. "Well, um..."

I rolled my eyes. "It doesn't. But if we decide to get married before I graduate, and mother that is an IF- we are not, I repeat, not engaged- then we'll figure something out."

"Too bad Dean's not becoming an Auror. Auror training is three years and Charm's is only two. You'd get out at the same time and you would be on the same campus." Ron said pointedly.

"Ron, shut it before I make you shut it." I said while Harry was pretending to be momentarily deaf.

Stupid coward.

Ding Dong.

Thank Merlin. That's Dean's mother.

Dean sighed. "Thank you Mrs. Weasley for letting me come over. It was incredibly nice of you."

Mum nodded. "Anytime," she said half-heartedly.

"See you, girl." Dean said squeezing my hand and trying to meet my eyes.

"See you." I replied staring at the floor.

"Bye everyone!" Dean called on his way out.

I sighed. I'm so glad that is over with.

"Well, that went well." George said as everyone laughed.

Why me?


AN/All right! It's done!!!!! I'm so sorry it took so long! Now be nice and review!!! Go on I know you want to!