Ginny stepped out of the fireplace and into the cheerfully chaotic Weasley living room.

"Ginny dear! How was Diagon Alley? Did you get everything you need? Where are the twins? Did they get into trouble again? What was it this time? Destruction? Devastation? If they expect me to bail them out again they are sadly mistaken! They'll just have to learn to deal with the consequences themselves! Honestly, those boys will be the death of me yet..."

'There's certainly no doubt where the famed Weasley motor-mouth came from.' Ginny thought as she hid an amused grin and stepped aside for the twin's entrance.

"Good to see you too, Mum!" said a contagiously cheerful Fred.

George rolled his eyes ostentatiously.

"Really, Mum, it's bad enough that you set our little sister on guard duty," he tossed a fond smile at Ginny.

"...and then you don't even trust us!" finished Fred, mock hurt painted dramatically over his face.

"Us! Your sweet little angels!"

There was such a look of pained innocence on George's face that Ginny found herself smiling wider.

"And what's this?! Our dear, sweet little sister is mocking us?" Fred whimpered, a wounded look on his freckled face.

"Fred," George said solemnly "You know what the only punishment for mocking in this household is..."

Ginny felt her eyes widen in panic.

"No!" she gasped

"TICKLE!!!!!!!!!!!" roared the twins together, before leaping on their younger sister.

What seemed to Ginny like hours later, the twins unpinned her from the ground and they all lay on the floor, red faced and gasping for breath.

"Honestly you three! Aren't you a little old to be rolling around the living room floor?" clucked a disgruntled Mrs. Weasly as she made her precarious way over and inbetween the sprawling bodies, carefully balancing a thick stack of parchment.

Just as she came even with the stairwell, Ron came thundering down, panicked eyes casting about wildly. He saw Fred and George, who were doing their best to stifle some very suspicious laughter.

"YOU!!" was all a very red faced Ron could get out before a mass of crazily flapping chickens burst out of the stairs behind him and toppled Mrs. Weasly, the parchments and Ron.

Ginny quietly extracted herself from the tangle of bodies and made her way silently up to her room, admist a sea of clucking, screams and hysterical laughter.

Having her own room was one small perk of growing up the only girl, Ginny thought as she shooed a few stray chickens off her desk and into the hall, shutting the door behind them. With the click of the lock the painted on smile that she always wore around people slipped off, replaced by eyes so sad that they startled her when she caught her reflection in the mirror. "What happened to you, Ginny Weasley?" she mused as her fingers traced over her features. Too pale skin and the dark circles under her eyes made her look half dead. Her fiery hair and soulful brown eyes barely served to offset her unhealthy pallor, rendering her vaguely normal looking to the casual glance. 'Which is the only kind of glance you get these days,' she admitted to herself ruefully, a painful ache in her chest. 'When did I become so alone?' The episode downstairs had only served to remind her of what family life used to be like, and the ache in Ginny's chest began to hurt more and more as the happy memories tumbled through her mind. With a sob, she slammed her fist down on the soft quilt, then gasped in pain. Raising her hand to her eyes, she saw the small letter opener she had left on her bed, it's point embedded half an inch into her palm. A thin stream of blood snaked it's way down her arm. Ginny stared, fascinated as the red drops spattered onto her bare leg. With a start she snapped out of her trance and gritted her teeth as she jerked the blade clean in one smooth motion. The thin trickle of blood became a thicker stream and she fumbled around for a towel to press against the wound. Mentally calling herself nine kinds of a fool she paced around her room, waiting for the bleeding to ease up. As she turned on her heel she once again caught sight of her eyes in the mirror. Did they look a trifle less sad? She ran her good hand over her face, the adrenaline set off by the pain had created a flush in her cheeks, giving her face a less haggard appearance. Just as she reached that conclusion, she realized with a start that the ever present ache in her chest had faded to a dull, barely noticable throbbing for the first time in over a year.

She turned her head slowly to stare at the incongrous piece of metal still lying on her bed, doubtful that such a tiny thing could be what finally reduced that horrible hurt. Ginny grimaced 'And gave me a new one.' she thought. peering at the tiny wound on her hand. But somehow, this kind of pain was so much better compared to what had been inside. This kind of pain would heal. She walked over to her bed and picked up the shining blade, still unsure. She had a vague sense of importance to this moment, like whatever she did next would decide her fate one way or another. Forcing a laugh at her melodramatic fantasies, she quickly wiped the blade and pocketed it, exhaling at the relief of tension as she pulled her hand away. For some odd reason she felt...safer with the small knife on her person. Like she had a weapon to use against all the bad days and heart aches that she knew were right around the corner.

"GIIINNNNYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" her mother roared from downstairs "DINNNERR!!!!!!!!!"

Ginny sighed and murmered "Coming."

As she turned to the door, she caught her reflection once again. She shook her head angrily at the sadness that was already seeping back into her eyes. As she walked down the hallway towards the dining room, she could feel the metal pressed against her leg. 'Maybe,' she thought 'it won't be so bad now.'