Ginny blearily opened her eyes, disoriented. Where was she?
Everything slowly came into focus, and she recognized the severe blue walls and tan carpet as those of Percy's old room. She wondered for a spilt second what she was doing there, but assummed that after the previous night, she had simply been so tired that she immediately took refuge in the first room avaliable (his was on the second floor, after all).
She sighed, recalling the night before...
She didn't try to persuade him. She knew it wouldn't do any good- when had Harry Potter listened to anyone else when his mind was made up? She knew perfectly well that this could be the last summer they ever spent together. He had come to stay at the Burrow with her brother and Hermione for the wedding. No one had mentioned the Horcruxes to her, but Ginny was not stupid girl- years of living with six older brothers had made her refined in the art of listening in at doors. She had overheard his pathetic attempts to dissuade his best friends from joining him in the hunt, and Ginny could see why they weren't about to let him go alone. She was terribly worried that Harry wouldn't come back from his search- or if he did, it'd be as a dead body. She had ultimate faith in him, but he was reckless, and his judgment was easily skewered.
She cornered him after dinner, suggesting that they could at least have the summer before fall took them their separate ways-
"What do you mean, our separate ways?" he asked, frowning.
Damn. She hadn't meant to let him know that she knew about the Horcruxes.
"Before you go back to the Dursleys," she lied, and he didn't press it. She spent a precious night with him talking- just talking.
She'd finally crawled up to bed at four o'clock in the morning, so tired that she barely knew where she was before she fell asleep.
Now, she headed downstairs, looking for the man she'd given up hours of sleep for the previous night.
"Harry?" she called. "Where are you?"
As she reached the main level, she deciphered the distant sound of sobbing, something familiar in the Weasley household. But today it was different, she realized. Less of a Mum-crying-over-Percy-as-she-made-supper type of crying, and more of a… wailing?
She hastened her pace, arriving in the living room to find a crowd of people gathered around something in the middle of the room.
She surveyed the scene- all of her family, plus a few others were standing around something- what was it, Ginny wondered.
"Eez it…eez 'e dead?" Fleur, who was standing in front of her, asked her fiancé.
Ginny's heart sped up. Pushing her way past the Frenchwoman, she came to a halt behind Ron.
"Move," she said fiercely.
Her brother stepped aside.
And she saw it.
Harry.
Her beloved Harry.
Glasses askew, lying stonily on the floor.
"Oh my God,"she whispered. "Is he-"
"Dead," Ron said hoarsely. "He's dead."
Hermione, who was clutching Ron's hand, twisted around to face Ginny, giving her a strange look.
"Ginny?" she asked. "What's that on your hands?"
She looked down.
It was blood.
A/N: Good? Bad? Shall I continue? Reviews are always appreciated.