Ginny looked out toward the horizon, her lips pursed, eyebrows furrowed. She turned to Harry and he suddenly wished to be far away. Her mouth opened and Harry could already hear her wrenched voice asking him not to do this, to --
"That doesn't make any sense, Harry. You spend vacation time with my family. You're best friends with my brother. My parents have visited you at Hogwarts. I'm already in danger. The enemy already knows you care for me. Why else would You-Know-Who's younger self have taken such delight in using me? I'll be no safer as your friend than your girlfriend."
She watched for some reaction, some sign of what Harry was thinking. When he didn't move, didn't look at her, anger rose in her and she too looked away, out. She held her silence. Red heat massed in her chest, her cheeks, her ears, and she struggled to keep her breathing steady.
Without turning, he spoke, lips barely moving, "I've made my decision, Ginny. It's for the best. Please try to understand."
She waited, giving him a chance to explain, but he said no more. Her robes rustled as she surged to her feet, black pleats folding, unfolding, as she paced before him. The movement disguised her shaking and leeched off some of the violent energy building inside her, but it did not attract his gaze. She whirled to a stop in front of him.
Leaning down, she brought her face directly in front of his. Harry's eyes met hers, skittered away.
"Fine, Potter. Throw me away for your cause. But don't disguise it as chivalry. Cowardice is what it is, plain idiocy. You can't just pick people up and drop them again whenever your conscience pricks you. Stay alone if you want."
She stormed past him, fists clenched. A swish of her fiery hair smacked his cheek and he heard her mutter something about friendship with him no longer being a problem. Then she was gone.
Harry waited for some spark of emotion, but all he could think of was Sirius and his parents, Voldemort and Wormtail. His cause. His enemies. His War.