I don't own these characters, but I do own the plotline.

"Ginny! When I say get over here, I mean get over here!"

"I'm not a child anymore, Mum; it's not a reasonable punishment." Ginny said simply, no fear anywhere in her features, just anger. "I'm practically fifteen years old."

"Ron was in this kind of trouble just a day ago. He didn't argue."

"I'm not Ron!" Ginny yelled, now losing whatever left of her temper she had. "I'm not Fred or George or Percy or Charlie or Bill! I'm Ginny! And I obviously feel different about this than your sons." She shook her head. "You can't do this."

"Ginny, you were very rude, you have to be punished!"

"Mum, you have no idea how it feels to be spanked. It doesn't even teach a lesson. How many times have you spanked Fred and George and they go right back to normal?"

"I have no idea? Ginny, when I was a girl your grandmother spanked me once a day. Look how I turned out."

"Oh, yeah, because you're the model of a perfect person." Ginny said, very sarcastically. "You're great financially, you're a phenomenal mother-"

"I am I good mother!"

"Then where's Percy?" Ginny roared. Mrs. Weasley started to cry. "Maybe you're not the person you thought you were. How many times did you spank Percy?"

"He never needed it, Ginny." She was crying hard, now.

"Oh, yeah, a model son, he was." She rolled her eyes.

"He got good grades. He was never in trouble with his teachers. He never broke into the Ministry of Magic!"

"That was for good reasons and you know it!" Ginny yelled.

"You could have gotten yourself killed."

"I was never in any danger." Ginny shook her head and started to walk away.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, you come here right now. We are not done talking yet."

"We are so done talking." Ginny yelled back, walking upstairs. Once out of view, she silently rushed up the stairs and to her bedroom, locking the door and pushing her dresser against it. She jumped on her bed and stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes.

The last time she had talked like that to her mother was…never. She always listened to her mother, always accepted her punishments with no argument. It had been close to three years since she let her mother get to her full name. Everyone once in a while, she would let her go to 'Ginny Weasley', and that would scare her over, and on very rare occasions, there was 'Ginevra Weasley', but after that she basically leaped onto her mother's lap. Letting her get to 'Ginevra Molly Weasley' was like picking the spell to be killed with. Last time she let her get that far, she hadn't sat down for three weeks without wincing.

The knock made her heart drop. She gulped. "What?" Perfect, she thought. Get her angrier by being rude.

"Ginevra, we need to talk."

Whenever she was angry she tended to forget how much Ginny hated her full name. Or maybe she just remembered it and wanted to get her angry.

"I find it difficult to talk to you with the threat of being slung over your knee floating around." Ginny called through the door. "So…I think I'll pass on this one."

"Ginny." Her voice was soft. It almost scared Ginny more than when her voice was stern. And she was calling her by the name she preferred. "I really, really want to talk to you. I promise I won't spank you, I won't yell, I won't punish you at all. All I want is for this to be cleared up."

"Not a trick?" Ginny called through.

"Not a trick."

"Got to be safe though." She said, taking her chances and getting as cheeky as possible in her chance to. Her mother never just wanted to talk. It always turned into something. But one thing Ginny knew is that her mother always kept her promises. "Don't come in until I tell you." Mrs. Weasley said she would wait. Ginny moved the dresser back as silently as possible, unlocked the door, grabbed her favorite pillow, hugged it tight to her, and sat on the bed, her back against the wall and her bottom safely protected on all sides. "Okay, come in."

Mrs. Weasley came in, saw her, and started to cry.

Ginny dropped the pillow and scooted forward on the bed. "W-what's wrong, Mum?"

Mrs. Weasley wiped a tear away. Ginny knew it was real; her mother was never one for the fake crying act guilt trip. "You-you're afraid of me!"

"Mum, I'm not afraid of you!" Ginny said quietly.

"Yes you are! I ruined it, Ginny, I'm sorry, I ruined everything."

"You didn't ruin anything. What are you talking about?"

"Ginny," Mrs. Weasley sniffed. "You remind me so much of myself it sometimes scares me. And the worst part of it is that I was just like my mother when I was young. I hated my mother. We had a horrible relationship." She sniffed again and walked over to the bed. "I don't…I never want us to be like me and my mother. I want us to be close. And I'm sorry that I'm ruining it."

"You're not ruining it, Mum. And I'm not afraid of you. I…sometimes, just when you get really angry or upset, I get scared. But you've been getting really good. No you have!" She said when Mrs. Weasley started crying more and shaking her head. "I know how much it's upsetting you that Percy still won't come back. I know how worried you must have gotten about Ron and Harry and Hermione and me. And I know how much you're worried about all of us now that You-Know-Who is for sure. And I can't tell you how proud I am that you've managed to not spank Ron and me on an hourly basis or because we groaned in protest."

Mrs. Weasley shook her head again. "That doesn't fix the past. I've always been a horrible mother."

Ginny started to form tears in her eyes. "No…no, Mummy, you're not. And I'm sorry. I put that in your head. You're not a horrible mother. You really are a fantastic mother. I was just upset, and scared. Sometimes it's good to be a little scared. If I hadn't been scared, we wouldn't be having this talk."

"You are like me!" Mrs. Weasley wailed.

"I fail to see how that's a bad thing." Ginny smiled. But she turned it into a frown quickly. "So…does this mean you won't spank me anymore?"

"Only if it's something horrible. I promise. And that's not too much, either. There weren't many times you really deserved a spanking." She frowned."But you were very rude to Bill about his engagement. You should be happy for him. He's your older brother."

"Barely. I remember the exact day I met him. I was five years old. Five."

"You met him before then."

"Either I was asleep or a few hours old, 'cause I don't remember a damn thing about Bill before that day." Ginny spat. "And how could he choose Fleur? She's disgusting. I hate her."

"That's a little overdramatic." Mrs. Weasley commented. "I don't care for her much, but I won't say I hate her. I just do not believe she is a fit for Bill."

"I can't believe he's marrying that creature."

"Ginny, you really are being rude. Maybe not as rude as you were in front of them. I doubt laughing, coughing 'Oh Merlin you're serious?' then turning ghost white and falling out of your chair is a proper way to say 'congratulations'. And if that weren't enough, you added every single comment that popped into your head."

"Bet Fleur didn't hear a word of it. She was probably marveling that I could speak. Have you heard her talk to me? You'd think I was just born." She mimicked the French accent combined with the baby-talk voice. "You must be Geeny. Bill 'as told me all about 'is leetle seester. But you are much cuter zan I ever expected. 'E spoke like you were so much older…and bigger."

"She did not actually say that to you." Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"Guess again. She bent down to talk to me. You'd think I was a ruddy midget." Ginny spat.

"Molly!" Someone called from downstairs, Mr. Weasley without a doubt.

"I'm sorry, dear, I have to go. But I'm really glad we talked."

Ginny nodded mechanically. She had not only saved herself from one spanking, but probably dozens. But a few things bothered her. She was so much like her mother. Everyone told her that. But she had always promised herself she would not grow up to be like her mother. She would never even threaten to spank her kids. She would never even joke about it. And she still intended to keep that promise. But she wondered if her mother promised herself the same thing when she was little. She wondered if her mother vowed she would never become like her mother. That she would never spank her kids.

If that was true, what triggered her to spanking her kids? Would the same thing trigger Ginny to spank her kids?

Her train of thought was broken by a roaring, "GINEVRA WEASLEY!"

Oh god. Her mother was a second later in her bedroom. She closed the door and locked it tight. Ginny pushed herself against the wall and hugged the pillow again. What had she done? She had skipped two levels of anger: simmering and stewing. She had gone straight onto boiling. It needed to go quick if Ginny didn't want her mother boiling over.

"Yes, Mum?"

"You failed to tell me something. In fact, you failed to tell me about you failing something!" She yelled. Ginny's face dropped. "We just got your grades. Exactly what is this 'D' doing on there?"

"Representing my grade in History of Magic."

"I realize it's a boring class, but that is no excuse for outright failing the class!"

"I know, Mum, I wasn't concentrating. History of Magic was right before Potions, and I kept reviewing in my head for that exam."

"Well, that paid off. You have top grades in Potions. But focusing on another exam while taking one is stupid. It is one of your worst excuses yet."

"I'm sorry, Mum. I'll do better this year. This is my O.W.L. year, it's important. I won't even dream of failing."

"You won't dream of failing ever again."

That was the cue. Ginny jumped up and ran to the opposite wall that the bed was on, and Mrs. Weasley sat down on the bed and took her hairbrush out of her pocket. "If you come over now, I won't have to use this."

"You promised you wouldn't. Not unless I really deserved it."

"Ginevra, you do deserve this." Mrs. Weasley breathed. Ginny shut her eyes and pressed herself tighter against the wall.

"No. I'm sorry. I'll never do it again. Don't spank me. You promised. No. You promised." She kept repeating those sentences in random order. "Please, Mummy, please. I won't do it again. Never. I'll start studying now. I'll be silent for a week. I'll let you spank me if I fail next year. Twice as hard. Twice as much. Just don't spank me now, please, don't." Ginny begged, letting her back slide down the wall.

"This is not about the pleasure I get from doing this. I get no pleasure. This is about you learning your lesson."

"I have learned my lesson. I need to pay attention to the present. Focus on everything, not just what I think is important. Please, I know I was wrong. Don't spank me, please."

"Ginevra, whether we like it or not I have to."

"You promised!" Ginny wailed as she felt her mother take her ear and drag her over to the bed. "You promised, you promised, you promised!" She let out a big sob as she was lifted onto her mother's knee. "You always keep your promises! I can't trust you anymore."

Mrs. Weasley ignored this all and flipped up her skirt and yanked down her knickers. Ginny gasped.

"Mummy, no! Bare? It was just one grade! I said I wouldn't let it happen again! Don't you trust me?"

"I trust you. I do. I just want to make sure you have the full message. It's not about not letting it happen again. It's about letting it happen in the first place." She took her hairbrush and gave Ginny a good whack.

She cried out in pain, still not seeing what the point was. It was just one grade. All her other grades were 'O's, except for one 'E' in DADA, but that was because of Umbridge. Surely all that was not worth a bare spanking. Especially not one starting out with the hairbrush.

"I take your grades very seriously, Ginevra. You should too."

"Mummy, I do. Owww!" She cried out, knowing that her bottom was probably by now a jolly shade of red. What she feared occurred. The hairbrush, which had been paddling the areas where she would sit down on, was now moving to an even more painful spot: her thighs. It felt a thousand times more painful each time the hairbrush came down. She cried out, wrapping her fingers around her mother's leg and keeping her eyes shut to hold back tears.

Finally the hairbrush made its way back to her bottom. It burned and stung, but it was better than on her thighs. She cried straight for the next five minutes it lasted.

"Mu-mummy? Wh-why that l-long?" She sobbed after Mrs. Weasley carefully placed her knickers and let her skirt fall into place. She laid on her stomach on the bed, tears flowing out of her eyes.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"It was horrible!" She sobbed. "Why do you always have to do it so hard? I hate you. Leave me alone." She felt so embarrassed.

"Ginny—"

"Gotten back to calling me by my shortened name? Got tired of saying 'Ginevra'? D'you know why I hate my first name? Every time I hear 'Ginevra' I think of you angry at me. And whenever you're angry at me you spank me. That's why I hate my first name. Get out of my bedroom."

"Please, Ginny—"

"OUT!" She yelled, and Mrs. Weasley frowned and slammed the door behind her. For a moment she lingered by the door, hearing Ginny's deafening sobs.

Now she really had ruined it.