"Not really, no," Ginny admitted. "Told me he'd watch me eat, and then we'll go for beer. Honestly, that takes half the fun out of it."
One of the best things about Emma was the way she got when talking about blokes. Half the fun, really. Not that Ginny would ever take advantage of that. Much.
"Well," she said. "At least he's not a Falcon. And good mate with at least two... with George. And Percy."
Seven years. It had been seven years, and she still didn't know how to count properly.