A/N: Just a thought, an emotional Ginny. Story belongs to me, characters belong to JKR

"Where is she?"

"She's been up in her room ever since she got home."

"It's been weeks!"

"I know she's sort of beginning to smell."

Hermione shook her head. She had just arrived at the Burrow for the summer after spending the first few weeks of summer vacation with her parents, who didn't know much about the war or even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named for that matter. She turned back to Ron and glared.

"What? It's not my fault she's gone off her rocker," Ron jumped to his own defense.

"Well I suppose we should go talk to her," Hermione sighed and pushed her way through the lanky redheaded boy in front of her. Hermione's heart sank with the thought of her, poor thing, crying away her broken heart. She took deliberate steps up the stairs, sensing that Ron was close behind her. She noticed how empty the Burrow seemed, no doubt because over half of Weasley family were probably at the Order Headquarters or perhaps even working on a job. Her heart jolted with the memory of the Burrow as it'd once been, before the war. As she reached the door she quickly turned around and warned Ron not to say anything because he would most likely say the wrong thing.

"Alright, geez Hermione!" he exclaimed, and then covered his mouth forgetting that he was to be quiet. "Sorry," he muffled.

Hermione shot an angry eye at him, and then turned to knock on the door. Hermione and Ron waited, there was no answer. She then tried again, this time in a calming rhythm, hoping she might recognize the nature of the visit.

"She won't answer, Hermione," Ron whispered harshly in her ear. "She hasn't spoken to anyone, not even Mum."

Ron barely had time to finish his thought before Hermione flew open his sister's bedroom door. Her room was a mess, clothes strewn everywhere, past editions of the Daily Prophet and The Quibbler were haphazardly thrown in the corner and her breakfast tray that Molly had probably brought up hours before lied untouched near the foot of the bed. Ginny lied in her bed, staring directly at the ceiling.

Hermione noted how frail her once vibrant friend appeared. Her once fire red hair was now dull and lifeless, her athletic frame gone. Her eyes were swollen, her skin was sallow. She looked as if she were on the brink of death. Hermione also noticed an unusual cut on Ginny's forearm, a cut in the shape of a lighting bolt.

"Oh Ginny," Hermione murmured as she rushed to her side. Ginny remained silent as she rolled onto her side to meet Hermione eye to eye. Hermione could see that her lips were chewed raw and that her eyes had barely any sleep. What had happened to her friend, her friend who used to seem so indestructible now looked so weak and lonely. Hermione ran her hand over Ginny's forearm. It was a few days old but she could feel where it had already scabbed. Ginny was reopening the wound. She knew what must be the cause of this, or who was the cause of the brave Ginny Weasley suddenly becoming really, quite a sad girl.

"I thought you were content with his decision, Ginny," Hermione held Ginny's arm tight. "You know it's because he loves you, because he can't stand the thought of losing you to him. There is no need for all this. Someday, somehow I know you two will work all of this out. He just has some things to do before he's really ready, or willing, to be committed to you."

"I'm scared, Hermione," Ginny whispered in a barely audible voice. "What if he dies?"

it was then Ron decided he had kept his mouth shut long enough, "You don't think we're scared either? Ginny, I'm terrified of Voldemort and what may happen to Harry. What may happen to all of us." Ron blushed profusely at his confession, noting to Hermione that his fear wasn't going to stop him, however, from kicking ass.

"Thanks for the clarification," Hermione shot Ron a glance and hoped that the next time Ron spoke that he might be a little more subtle on the subject. "But he's right Ginny, we're all scared but we need to be brave, every moment we don't step up is a moment Voldemort can take to the bank. He wins unless we stand up to him and fight."

Ginny continued to whimper, "I love him, Hermione. I love him so much it hurts to go day to day knowing that we may ever see each other again."

"I know," Hermione patted her head, pushing her hair out of her face. "Now let's go show Harry how much we're there for him by taking a shower. I'll help you wash your hair, I suppose, we'll make a girls day out of it."

"Ok," she mumbled, "but Ron, you're not invited."