15-year-old Ginny Weasley threw back the covers. She opened her eyes and saw the emerald walls of her bedroom. She clambered out of bed and threw on a bathrobe before galivanting down the Burrow's steps. Loud noises echoed through the hall, a mix of Ron's shouting at his mother ("He's not safe with the bloody muggles, Mum! Please let Harry stay over!") the twins' tricks, ("my dear Gred, I think we've got it!") the laughing from Bill and Charlie ("And the dragon nearly took my head off- BILL! It's not funny!- so anyway") and her fathers and Percy's stiff morning Daily Prophet conversation.

"Morning, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley looked up from her discussion with Ron and smiled. "We were just taling about you."

"Oh were you?" Ginny said, smiling.

"Yup, baby sister," said Ron teasingly. "We were talking about how if my friends come to stay... you'll have to share your room."

Ginny blanched. "With Harry? I am not sharing my room with a boy. End of story." Her face colored magnificently.

"No, dearest, not Harry," her mother began exasperatedly. "With Hermione, love. Surely you wouldn't mind that?"

Ginny shrugged. "Sure, fine, whatever. That's good." And she began to prepare breakfast like she always did. She and her brothers took turns when they were off school. She cooked on Thursdays, such as today. Whistling softly, she searched for waffle mix. Alas, there was none. "Drat," she murmured. "Mum, are you going to buy more waffle mix anytime soon?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Ginny, waffle mix is expensive. We are better off eating cereal anyway."

Ron and Ginny exchanged dark looks. "Mum," Ron began, "We're the only family in all of England who can't afford waffle mix. Why are we so poor?" Though he spoke patiently and carefully, Ginny saw the shame in his eyes.

"Ron, we do our best. Your father-"

"Should get a promotion." Ron interjected, growing angry. "This isn't all about waffle mix. Mum, I need good dress robes and Ginny needs a better cloak. Fred and George want to open a joke shop-"

He had said the magic words that always made their mother angry. "Joke shop indeed! They need to get some sense into them, honestly."

Ron glared at his mother. Ginny watched silently. "Mum! I'm so sick of this. Maybe I'll get a job and then we won't have this problem."

"Ron, that would be very mature of you. But first you need to grow up in the slightest." Mrs. Weasley was loosing her temper.

Ron slammed the silverware Ginny had just handed him to the table, his face flushed with anger. "Malfoy's lucky. He gets all the waffle mix, dress robes, and cloaks he wants. Never thought I'd be jealous of him."