"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife."

Hermione huffed and closed the pamphlet that her mother had casually left on the room.

"Ginny, you can't get upset about everything you read. You are young and beautiful and accomplished, you cannot let Mother get in your head."

Ginevra Weasley looked at her sheepishly.

"Not everybody is like you, Hermione. You are strong and resilient and…"

"Say it, Ginny, I'm stubborn."

Ginny laughed sweetly and hugged her favorite sister

"You know me, Mione, I'm a romantic. I thought I ought to be married by now. I feel like an old maid, I'm not keen on becoming a spinster. And of course, there is the matter of the entailment..."

Hermione gestured for her sister to stop talking

"First of all, if you are a spinster, so am I. After all, we are twins."

"We are fraternal twins, Mione, we don't even look like each other"

"And yet I am five minutes older, so shush. Second, twenty is not too old. We can still find noble gentlemen willing to unburden our parents," she said with her usual spark. "In fact, don't forget that there will be a ball next Saturday to welcome the militia to Marathon. I'm sure there will be plenty of prospects there, by the end of the night even Lavender will be married."

Ginny laughed

"I wouldn't worry about Lav-Lav. She might be the youngest, but I swear she will be the first of us to marry."

"Astoria, on the other hand, she may be more of a challenge, especially if she insists on singing at every social gathering. Her skill on the pianoforte is bearable, but this new thing of trying to sing opera, my my, we may all end up spinsters if she keeps it up," said Hermione.

The two sisters muffled their laughter with pillows. They had shared a room all their lives and these nightly conversations were their favorite part of the day.

The Weasleys were a well to do family from Longbourne, but fortune had not provided them with a male heir. In turn, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had now five daughters in need of husbands, as their estate was entailed, meaning that after Mr. Weasley's death it will pass to the nearest living male relative, which at this point happened to be a cousin, a man by the name of Gilderoy Lockheart. So Mrs. Weasley made it her life's mission to secure husbands for her daughters, and she was shameful in that pursuit.

The daughters were all beautiful, but different as the colors of the rainbow. Ginevra and Hermione were the oldest ones, fraternal twins. Ginevra, whom all called Ginny, was a redhead like their mother, while Hermione was a brunette with soft curls, as Mr. Weasley had been as a young man. Ginny was sweet and romantic, and it was a mystery to the whole town that she had yet to receive a marriage proposal fitting her dignity in life. The town was not so surprised about Miss Hermione Weasley's singlehood though. The girl was known to be inconveniently smart, and too opinionated for her own good. She was her father's favorite precisely because of that, but now the old man sometimes regretted encouraging her reading and banter habits so much, as she was not to inherit her own money, and finding a husband was paramount.

The younger sisters were close among themselves too. Daphne was nineteen, Astoria was eighteen and Lavender was seventeen. To everyone's astonishment, the youngest one was an unstoppable firebolt, capable to drag the other two into all kinds of mischief. Daphne would do anything her little sister would want, and they spent hours trying on hairdos and hairpins and ribbons while talking nonstop about young men, and Astoria, who was quite shy, would sit close and provide music for them to try new dances all day long. It had been Lavender who encouraged Astoria to try singing so she would be less of a wallflower, much to the chagrin of poor Mr. Weasley, who now needed to put cotton pieces on his ears when he sat to read in his study.

The next day Mr. Weasley was sitting peacefully in his studio, as his daughters were all mercifully working on the embroidery for their dresses for the ball when his peace was interrupted by the squeals of his beloved wife.

"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, I bring news! Most encouraging news! Netherfield Park has finally been let!"

"That is wonderful, my darling, but I fail to see how that is good news for me," answered the old man, containing the smirk that threatened to form in his face.

"Oh don't' play coy, Mr. Weasley, don't you want to know who has taken it?"

"Madam, I presume you are about to tell me," he said, still looking at his book.

"A very wealthy young man by the name of Harry Potter. I just heard from Lady Pomfrey that he is rumored to have five thousand a year! Oh, Mr. Weasley, we are saved now."

"And how is that, Mrs. Weasley?"

The older lady raised her hands and let them fall in exasperation.

"Because he must marry one of the girls, of course!"

"I don't know if he must, my dear. The man should have some measurement of free will, shouldn't he?"

"Oh Mr. Weasley, don't be a tease. You know perfectly well that if he meets Ginny he will fall in love with her. Or maybe even Mione, if she can manage to keep her mouth shut. But none of these will happen unless you go visit him and introduce yourself, so we can present the girls at the ball."

"In that case, my dear, I presume that you will be happy to know that I already did."

A chorus of squeals made him look towards the closed door, where undoubtedly his daughters would all be eavesdropping. The old man chuckled and turned to look at his wife, who was ogling him in disbelief

"And you waited all this long to tell me? Mr. Weasley, don't you have any compassion for my poor nerves?"

"On the contrary, my dear, I have the utmost respect for them. They have been my faithful companions for twenty-two years."