Harry turned around to look at Ginny, she had turned her back and was walking away.

"If I could have let you come, I would have. You know that." Harry, whispered.

His voice carried over to her ears, on the soft breeze that blew through the valley they had met in, to finally discuss what had happened when he, Hermione, and Ron had disappeared from the wedding.

"No, Harry, that's the thing. You wouldn't have. You could have! You know me, you know I'm a strong witch! I could have helped," she finnished in a whisper.

A single tear trickled down her cheek, but it didn't get far. Nimble fingers reached up to wipe it away before it could reach her child. Harry knew that tear was not one of sadness. It showed how angry she truely was. He knew she cried when she was angry, though her anger had never been turned so severly on him, and it burned in his chest to watch that tear trickle of her eye lash because of him.

"You're right," he admitted. He figured that lying would get him no where. The only thing lying ever seemed to do for him was get him in more trouble, and more trouble was not something he needed.

Ginny stood there for a long moment, her hair sweeping back and forth over her face in the breeze. Not too long ago Harry had run his fingers threw that hair, feeling it's silkyness on his fingers, but that felt like life times ago. So much had happened since then. And now, it seemed, that her hair was no longer his to touch. She was no longer his to touch, to have.

Harry watched motionless, he didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to make her understand.

"I'm not a child," she murmured suddenly, turning away from him once again. There was such a note of finality in her voice that Harry have pause.

He watched as she walked a way. First one step then another and another. Soon her feet moved faster until she was running from her. And he let her go, his heart breaking. He had promised himself a long time ago that he would never let her go.

But here he was, watching her run away.

Soon, Ginny was gone, having apparated away. But Harry still stood in that same spot staring at the grass around him. Too much had happened, too many had given thier lives, and now his reason for living had run away.

He had known that she would be angry, he had known that she was be upset, but he had hoped that she would have been so relieved that he was back, she would have forgotten about it all. But it was not to be. He didn't know what to do.

Ginny stared at the wall of her room. She had torn down the posters the day before. She had ripped them to shreds, she had yanked things from she shelves and drawers, she had screamed and screamed until she had no voice. And yet it hadn't helped. She was mad at herself for walking away from Harry, she was mad at herself for not being more help, for not saving even a handfull of those who died. She was made that she would no longer see her brother, she was mad, mad, mad.

Her mother had finally given up pounding on the door. She had sent up every member of the family who was currently staying the house up to try and persuade Ginny to leave her room.

But it hadn't worked.

Even Hermione had made a small attempt to talk to her.

"Ginny?"

Ginny's head snapped around at the sound of George's voice. He hadn't said a word since the final battle a few days ago. They had a funneral two days ago, and he had silently cried, but had not said a word.

"George?" Ginny called out softly.

A knock resounded through the door, and Ginny took a chance that it actually was George and walked to the door. She reversed the spell she had used to keep her family out, and opened it slowly. George stood on the other side, his long hair rumbled, his eyes bloodshot, and his face hollow looking. Ginny had to stop herself from looking around behind him for Fred.

She had to remind herself that she wouldn't see him again. Not in this life anyway.

"Can I come in, Ginny?" George croaked from the doorway.

Ginny stepped aside and ushered him in. He looked like a lost puppy, his eyes darting around, but it was like he wasn't seeing anything.

"Mum you were making quite the racket, I guess I understand why," he murmured, taking in the ripped posters, the clothes on the floor, and the shattered nick-nacks that lay scattered. There were only a few things that were not broken or flung around. A few family photo's, a few gifts that were special, and the box of jokes that Fred and George had given to her not too long ago.

Ginny kicked some stuff aside and plopped down on the ground, George followed her example.

"Did mum send you?"

"Nah, I just needed someone to talk to, and you seemed like the best choice," George said calmly. It looked as if he had attempted a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes, and ended up looking more like a grimace.

"What are you doing,Ginny?" George said, his voice getting serious.

"What are you talking about?"

She had asked the question, but she knew full well what he was talking about. Locking herself in her room, moping, screaming, not eating, not sleeping, and not talking to anyone.

"I guess everyone grieves differently, and that's okay, but don't shut us out, Gin."

Ginny, looked up into her brother's sad eyes. She inched forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. She felt a tear hit the top of her head, and knew he was crying silently above her. She would never be able to get the image of her brother weeping, screaming, over his twins body out of her mind.

Harry looked up at he Weasely's home towering above him. He had given it a few days, to let her cool off. He wasn't going to give up. Not until she looked him in the eye and told him it was over. '

He knocked lightly on the door to The Burrow and waited.

It didn't take long for Molly to pull the door open and usher him in, kissing his cheeks and telling him how happy she was to see him. And how Ginny was "not doing well at all, not at all". Harry said polite hellos to all of the family members, and lastly hugged Hermione hello. He was then ushered to the stairs by Mrs. Weasely.

He took a deep breath has he marched up the stairs to the room that had become almost more familiar to him than Ron's.

Ginny's room.

He knocked lightly, and listened to the soft voices go quite inside.

Once again it didn't take long for the door to swing open, and George to push his way out, only pausing to give him a small smile and a pat on the shoulder. Harry nodded back and turned to enter the bedroom of the young woman who could easily break his heart into a million little pieces.

"Harry," Ginny murmured softly. "I thought it was mum."

"I can go get her if you need," Harry said quickly.

"No, I don't need her, she just bearly leaves me alone anymore is all. Though she had finally managed to push she way in here."

Harry sighed and took a seat on the bed next to Ginny. "She just worries about you."

"I know," she whispered.

"Your whole family worries about you, Ginny. They love you very much. Just like I do," he finished softly.

"I know," Ginny mumbled.

"I wouldn't have let you go," Harry suddenly to her.

"I know, Harry."

"I wish I could tell you that I would have let you come along, but I can't tell you that. It would be a lie. I couldn't, can't take the thought of losing you Gin. You're everything to me. Everything. It breaks my heart to think of you lying dead somewhere. It makes my chest ache to think that I could have been to late, that I could have been unable to protect you."

Ginny wanted to rebel, she wanted to tell him that she didn't need him to protect her. That she was a big girl, and she could take care of herself, but the words wouldn't come.

And suddenly she felt tears sting her eyes.

Harry watched as tears filled her beautiful bright eyes. They were not tears of anger this time. They were tears of lose. He suddenly realized that no matter how much she pushed to be independent, strong, she still needed someone to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be alright.

So that's what he did. And everything would be alright. It just took time.