Chapter 1.

"The nerve of them! They know it isn't safe! They know they could get hurt! Arthur, have you tried talking some sense into Ronald? Hermione? Will Harry even listen? Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley's voice floated up the stairs and Ginny rolled her eyes at it.

Her father's reply was much softer, because she could only hear the murmuring, but could not make out the exact words; however, Ginny didn’t need to hear to know he was telling her that he had talked to Ron, and he was pointing out that all three of them were of age.

The sound of stomping came next, and this almost made Ginny smile. Until she realized her mother was on her way upstairs.

"Feeling all right, Ginny?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed when Ginny didn't look up at her from her piece of obviously blank parchment. Things had not been the same with Ginny since she had come home after fifth year. Her mother could tell it was not just Dumbledore's death; although, Dumbledore's death had thrown the entire Order for a loop. They were slowly recovering, though.

"Ginny," the older woman said after a beat.

"Yes, Mum," answered Ginny, rolling her eyes. A few seconds later she listened to the door click shut. She did not need to look up to know that her mother had been staring at her worriedly. At least she hadn’t hung around to ask questions again.

Ginny rolled the quill between her index finger and thumb. An hour had passed and she was still gazing down at the parchment. There were so many things she wanted to say, but something was stopping her from saying them. A pile of crumpled up parchment was overflowing from her garbage bin in the corner, proof of all the ways she had tried.

She glanced at the bottle of color changing ink, and then dipped the sharp tip into it. With a sigh, she started to write very slowly.

Dear Harry,

Ginny

Releasing a slow breath, Ginny leaned forward and plucked an envelope out from under a messy stack of parchment.

All those years of waiting and… nothing. He'd only carelessly discarded it. It bothered her most at night. Nighttime meant that she would get restless. There was only so much to do at the Burrow.

And it all ceased after dark.

She folded up the thin piece of parchment and stuffed it unceremoniously into the envelope.

"RONALD!! HERMIONE!!" shrieked Mrs. Weasley from below her.

"RON!" cried Ginny, not having to see her brother to know that he was, indeed, in the house. Ginny was on her feet and fleeing hastily down the stairs before the cry got halfway out of her mouth. The letter was still clutched tightly in her hand.

Mrs. Weasley was smothering Ron in a viselike hug.

Hermione was beaming from his side, but she looked paler and smaller than she did the last time Ginny had seen her. "Hullo, Ginny," she greeted.

"Back for a visit already?" Ginny asked, slowing her pace at the bottom of the stairs. She blew a piece of hair out of her face.

Hermione shrugged. Ginny got the impression that Ron had missed his parents. She exchanged knowing smiles with Hermione.

It was like Ron and Hermione had been gone for weeks. "Oh Ron, we were so worried!" said Mrs. Weasley, dabbing at her nose. "Where is Harry? Is he all right? Has anything happened?"

Ginny went as rigid as a board.

Ron swatted at his mother in an unconvincing way. "Every thing is fine, Mum!" he said. "We were in the area… thought we would drop by for a visit."

No one in the room believed this, as the Burrow was miles and miles away from anything, but everyone let it hang in the air. Obviously Mr. and Mrs. Weasley knew Ron would lessen his visits if he were teased too badly.

Mr. Weasley shook Ron's hand firmly.

Ginny shook her head distractedly, not at all interested in Ron's insecurities. "Where… is Harry?" she asked, leaning against the doorway.

"He's still at Number Twelve. He wasn't… too interested in visiting," answered Hermione, glancing down at her feet and then back up at Ginny. Spotting the annoyed look on the red-haired girl's face, she rushed on, "Said he was tired. We had a long day."

Ginny's grip was so tight on the letter that it crumpled. Harry was avoiding her. "Ah," she said, feigning indifference.

Ron and Hermione sat around the table with Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, and Ginny, and the entire situation was entirely too adult-like for Ginny's liking. It was odd to observe them. Ron and Hermione were utterly comfortable with themselves as a couple. Her parents were even supportive and it made them scoot their own chairs closer together. Ginny was jealous that Harry wasn’t there, jealous that she wasn't sharing that with Harry. She still hoped he would change his mind, but she seriously doubted he would.

She knew this was dramatic, but she couldn't help feeling this way.

Breaking up with her had been so sudden. It had confused her, but she had vaguely expected it, and completely accepted it. Harry was going to do what Harry wanted to do. And no one was going to change his mind.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Ron and Hermione pushed up from the table, leaving the meaningless chatter behind. "Night, Ginny," said Ron, giving her an affectionate smile that disappeared as soon as it had appeared.

"Wait," she said, grabbing her wand from the waistband of her pajama pants. "Give this to Harry?" She tapped the parchment and scribbled across the bottom, adding a sentence.

Ron opened his mouth to say something, probably to tell her that wasn’t a good idea, but Hermione silenced him with a hand gesture. "Of course, Ginny," she said, taking the missive from Ginny.

Ginny felt a rush of gratitude toward Hermione. "Thanks."