Author's Note: Hey everyone - I've written a new one-shot! This one was written for mypage1222, who provided both the plot bunny and the title. Please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or the setting.

Everything was quiet. Even the earlier ruckus of sobbing mothers and grieving families had died down. There were plenty of reasons to go back into the castle, but the black-haired boy sitting on the broken front steps had plenty of reasons for remaining outside. For one, the castle seemed incredibly stuffy when compared to the cold night air, which happened to be a remedy for such claustrophobic feelings. Even with all the holes that had been blown through its walls, the castle did not hold any comfort for him when it came to getting fresh air.

The shock had not yet settled in for Harry; he knew who and what he'd lost, but couldn't face it. He sighed and turned his attention back to the lake, which lay sparkling under the starlight, just as an all-too-familiar streak of flaming red hair caught his eye.

Ginny Weasley was walking intently toward what was left of the Whomping Willow.

Harry jumped to his feet. He'd throw his own life away before he'd let Ginny submit herself to that tree.

Even though he sprinted, he didn't manage to reach her before she'd trailed her fingers along one of the willow's long, thin branches. It caught her up in its grasp. She waited silently for her fate. The tree seemed to contemplate her a little bit. One of the brittle twigs wove its way through her red hair, as if evaluating it.

Harry wouldn't give her up without a fight.

"Relashio," he said under his breath to whichever wand he was holding – he could really care less about keeping track at that particular moment – and watched as the tree jerked and dropped Ginny, who remained motionless on the ground. He ran to her, the intention of bearing her away from the tree all he had in mind.

The willow, though, apparently angry, lashed out at Harry just as he reached Ginny and began pulling her back toward the castle. A thin frond wrapped itself tightly around his wrist and yanked him forward. He thought as hard as he could. Stupefy. Stupefy… Stupefy!

Surprising him, the tree froze and let Harry drop to the ground next to Ginny, who was conscious but silent. Her eyes stared contently upward. Panicking, he started to drag her away again. Not toward the castle, though. It wouldn't be right to expose her to people in such a state.

No, he pulled her toward the lake.

He hauled her down the grounds as quickly as he could, aiming to put as much distance between the two of them and the tree as possible. She really wasn't that heavy, but it became a lot easier when she sat up half way there and quietly told him to stop. Breathing a bit hard, he sat down in front of her. They'd somehow ended up under one of the few trees on the main part of the grounds – a small, twisted thing that hung over them like a huge, gray cloud.

Harry looked at Ginny. Ginny looked at her hands.

"Harry-"

"Ginny-"

They'd spoken at the same time.

Harry, a bit flustered, ducked his head when she looked up at him. "You can go first," he whispered.

She shook her head and stared out at the lake. Tears ran, glittering, silently down her cheeks. Harry was bewildered. Ginny had always been so strong.

"I know what you're thinking, Harry," she murmured. "You've never seen me cry before, have you?" she asked, looking back up at him. Her eyes sparkled with tears and starlight. She smiled a little.

"I don't think so," he replied, debating whether or not to reach over and take her hand. He decided against it. It seemed like the wrong moment.

"When will you learn? Being sad doesn't mean you're not strong, Harry," she said, glancing once again to the lake and then back at him. "It just means that you care about something."

Harry smiled weakly, wincing a bit as she spoke. "I know."

"Let's go for a walk." Without much more warning than that, Ginny stood, gracefully avoided hitting her head on the tree, and began walking toward the lake.

Harry, on the other hand, was not quite so elegant. Rubbing the spot on the back of his head where he'd managed to hit it on a rather thick branch, he hurried after her.

She was already standing on the shore when he got there, just watching the glassy surface. A small breeze played, restless, in Ginny's hair. Unable to resist the urge now, Harry took her hand in his. It was so tiny and delicate – he'd never thought about it before. Last year had just been so full of happy times, he'd never really thought about how fragile she was…

Ginny looked down at their entwined hands and smiled, leaning against him. She returned her gaze to the lake. "Remember when we came down here last year?" she asked wistfully.

Nodding, he said, "Yeah – I thought Ron might kill me for a while, there…" He trailed off when she let out a sad little giggle.

"I thought Dean would throw himself off the Astronomy Tower." She sighed and changed the subject so suddenly she caught Harry off guard. "It's hard to believe we'll never see them again."

"I know."

"Fred'll never let me play on his Quidditch team again," she whispered. A few sobs wracked her form.

Harry hugged her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried into his chest for what seemed like hours. All Harry could do was wait it out and feel helpless.

When Ginny finally stopped weeping, she pulled away from Harry and sat down in the grass, taking off her shoes and sticking her bare feet in the water. He sat down next to her, not touching her. He'd gotten the impression that that wasn't what she wanted anymore. "What are we going to do without all of them?" he asked, her dark mood suddenly descending on them.

She exhaled loudly, then turned to study him. "What do we do without them?" she asked, obviously not looking for an answer. She turned her gaze to the moon, which had just come up.

Once more, she looked pointedly at Harry. "We go on."