"God, Weasley, isn't it a little early for that?"

"Venice! You're awake!"

Ginny took one last bounce and landed on her knees beside Venice.

"So. You like Charlie, eh?"

"Bit early to be hitting the Firewhisky, don't you think, Gin?"

Venice rolled over and tried to pull the covers up over her head, but Ginny would have none of it. Yanking the covers clear down to Venice's knees, she continued without missing a beat.

"Oh please. I've never seen Charlie flirt so much in one night in my life."

"That was flirting? Blimey-poor bloke. No wonder he's single."

"You were flirting too."

"I was not. I was making polite conversation with the only brother of yours I'd never met."

"Don't lie to me. I saw you blushing at dinner."

"Gods, Ginny! Leave off, why don't you?"

"I'm telling you, he likes you too!"

"Ginny, he's what, nine, ten, years older than me? I think you've finally gone round the bend."

Flinging the covers off, she marched to the bathroom, where she had to climb in the shower, still wearing her pajamas, to get away from Ginny. Undeterred, Ginny perched on the toilet to wait.

"Venice, I'm not kidding. Age doesn't matter. Charlie likes you. I bet you anything he's going to come over here today and try to take you out for dinner."

Venice stuck her head around the shower curtain to glare at her friend.

"Ginny, why don't you make yourself useful and go make some breakfast? I'd like to shower in peace!"

"Fine, fine. But I'm not giving up! And for the record, he's only eight years older than you, not ten."

Venice waited until she heard the door shut behind Ginny to let out a string of curses.

When she finally appeared in the kitchen, wet hair hanging in ringlets, wrapped in her bathrobe, Ginny was sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee and reading the paper. A plate piled with toast and sausages sat in the middle of the table, steaming enticingly. Venice sat down and helped herself to a sausage.

"Thanks for making breakfast, Ginny."

"You're welcome."

Ginny didn't even look up from her paper. Venice narrowed her eyes. She knew Ginny too well to believe that the redhead was just going to let the whole Charlie-thing go. She munched idly on a piece of toast, waiting for Ginny to pounce.

The kitchen was so quiet she could have heard a pin drop.

Finally Ginny set down the paper, drained the rest of her coffee in one gulp, and fixed Venice with a thoughtful stare. Venice stared right back as she finished her toast and started on another sausage.

"I can see why he likes you."

Venice rolled her eyes.

"Ginny, honestly. Enough already!"

"No, Venice, I'm serious! You're gorgeous, you're smart, you've got a great sense of humor," pausing to look her friend up and down, she added, "not to mention you've got great curves."

Venice blushed furiously and pushed herself up out of her chair.

"Okay, Ginny, I think it's time for you to go."

She pulled Ginny from the chair, pushed her across the kitchen to the fireplace, barely pausing to grab a handful of Floo powder before she pushed Ginny into the flames.

A moment later Ginny whirled out of sight, her expression still determined even as she spun around in the fireplace.

Sighing gratefully, Venice flopped into a chair and grabbed for another piece of toast. She flipped open the paper and was halfway through an article when her doorbell rang. Rolling her eyes, she shoved the remaining piece of toast in her mouth and ran to get the door.

"Ginevra Weasley, if you don't leave me alone I'm going to...to..."

She flung the door open as she spoke, the end of her sentence dying in her throat.

It wasn't Ginny standing there in the hallway.

It was Charlie.

For one long, awkward moment she could only stare at him. And then, suddenly conscious that she was wearing nothing more than a short bathrobe, she leapt behind the door, face burning.

"Did I come at a bad time?"

Charlie's voice was muffled slightly by the door but she could still hear him trying to hold back a bout of laughter.

"Hi, Charlie, sorry, um, can you count to ten and then let yourself in?"

"Sure, but why-"

Without waiting, she swung the door shut and ran to her room, throwing on the first decent clothes she laid her hands on.

When she wandered back into the living room a few moments later, clad now in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, Charlie was standing in the middle of the room, looking uncomfortable. He was holding a basket piled with muffins.

"I'm so sorry, Charlie. I didn't mean to be rude."

He turned as she spoke, eyes locking with hers.

"It's fine, really. Unlike the troglodyte I have to claim as a sister, I tried to wait for a more decent hour before I came over. I was going to send an owl first to make sure I wasn't interrupting anything...."

He held out the basket suddenly, grinning.

"Mum sent these over. She said something about you being in the kitchen...I didn't quite catch all of it though."

"Your mum's amazing: she knows I can't cook worth a knut. She constantly sends food over; it's like she's afraid I'm going to starve."

"She did that for me too when I first went to Romania. It took me a while to convince her that I wasn't going to waste away to nothing."

She returned the look when he rolled his eyes at her.

"Did you already eat? I have coffee and Ginny cooked some sausages before she went-you're more than welcome to join me. I might even share my muffins..."

Chuckling, he followed her into the kitchen.

"Coffee mugs are in the cupboard over there," she directed, pointing, "sugar's on the counter in that purple bowl, and if you want milk there's some in the fridge."

She turned to smile at him as he rummaged through her cupboard for a mug.

"I always go by my parent's rule of making yourselves at home. I don't have guests, I have friends. As my friend, you have my full permission to help yourself to anything."

Charlie raised an eyebrow at her as he poured two mugs of coffee.

"We just met last night, I tried to kill you not two hours later, and now we're friends?"

She shrugged, took a sip of the coffee he pushed into her hand.

"I don't hold grudges."

"So I see. That's good, bodes well in my favor."

He snatched up a sausage, watching her carefully. She stared right back as she waited for him to speak.

"Venice, the truth is, I really came over here this morning because...I wanted to ask if you'd go to dinner with me tonight. I still feel awful about last night, and I'd like to make it up to you."

"Charlie, you really don't need to-"

"Venice," he interrupted, "I wouldn't be asking if I didn't want to. Don't say no. If you do, I might just have to keep asking until you agree."

"Now I know where Fred and George get their stubborn streak." She quirked an eyebrow at him. "All right. Yes, Charlie, I'd love to go to dinner with you tonight."

He grinned, pleased with himself.

"Fantastic! I knew you wouldn't be able to say no to the old ‘Weasley charm'."

"After working for your brothers for four years, I'm pretty much immune to the ‘charm'. I just didn't want to watch you cry when I turned you down."

He grimaced, trying to hold back a laugh.

"Ouch, Venice, that's just harsh. What house were you in, Slytherin?"

She bit into a sausage before she answered.

"You're so wrong, Weasley. I was a Ravenclaw."

"Oooh, a Ravenclaw, eh? Should I bow down to your superior genius now, or later?"

She threw the last bite of her sausage at him; it whizzed harmlessly past his head and bounced off the cupboard behind him.

"Now you're throwing food? I think that's my cue to leave."

He moved across the kitchen, rinsed his mug out in the sink.

"You don't really have to leave."

"I know. I do have a few errands I need to run today anyway so it's okay if you are trying to kick me out."

She walked him to the door, their elbows brushing as they moved down the hallway.

He paused halfway out the door.

"Thanks for breakfast, Venice."

"You're welcome, Charlie."

"I'll, uh, I'll pick you up around...seven?"

She giggled.

"Are you asking, or telling?"

"Telling. I'll pick you up at seven. And, um, wear something warm, okay?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Okay."

With one last smile, he was gone, leaving her standing in the open doorway with an empty coffee cup in her hand.

"Venice?"

Her scream echoed around the apartment. She spun around, the coffee cup poised to be thrown.

Ginny was standing behind her, hands on her hips.

"You're certainly jumpy today."

Venice clutched at her chest, trying to slow her suddenly racing heart.

"Ginny, bloody hell!"

Ginny shrugged.

"Sorry. I forgot my wand earlier. So what did Charlie want?"

Venice stalked past the other girl into the kitchen, lips pursed. Ginny would never let it go if she mentioned her dinner date with Charlie, but she knew from experience that with the Weasley clan, nobody had secrets. There were simply too many people.

She sighed.

"Charlie is taking me out to dinner tonight. He said he wanted to apologize for last night's accident."

Ginny threw her arms around Venice, squeezing all the air from her lungs.

"That's amazing! You and my favorite brother! On a date! I knew he'd ask you! I told you he was flirting!"

"Ginny, leave off-it's not a date-date. It's just dinner, between friends. Nothing more."

"What exactly did he say?"

"He didn't give me any details. He just said he'd pick me up at seven and that I should dress warm."

The words were barely out of her mouth when Ginny grabbed her hand and dragged her along the hall to her bedroom.

"Venice, I'm going to help you pick out something to wear." When Venice started to protest Ginny silenced her with a look and continued. "Now, normally I wouldn't care, because Charlie is so easygoing, but Venice! This is your first date! And I know how much you love you love your sweatshirts and pajama pants, but that's just not acceptable."

A few minutes later, as Ginny was digging through her drawers, proclaiming all of her clothing either ‘unacceptable' or ‘promising', Venice was starting to seriously rethink her friendship with Ginny...