Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters you recognise in this fictional story belonging to Joanne Kathleen Rowling, Warner Bros. and whoever else…Bloomsbury and Scholastic.

Summary: Everyone got a bit tense when Hermione had openly objected the murder of Kreacher. And Harry, he had changed. What a silent pathetic wreck he had become.

Author's note: This was written in about er… half an hour so forgive me if it doesn't make sense (sorry, I'm just too lazy). Also my English has been terrible after coming back from France. This is a little vignette near the beginning where Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince would begin, or so we should think. It will probably be used for another story I've working on that'll eventually (or just not) be with a Draco/Ginny pairing.

Half a Mind

Ginny looked up from her food to looked at the boy in front of her. Harry, he had changed. He had just sat there quietly all throughout the sorting and even when the food came he sat there poking at his cooling food absentmindedly with his fork. She had also noticed that her brother had also been acting somewhat dimmer than usual and although she had only spent a few moments with Hermione, she knew there was also something different with her.

But that was, of course, expected. After all, it was only months ago that their beloved friend Sirius Black had fallen beyond the veil; never to return.

As she lifted her fork of mash up to her mouth she took one last glance at Harry and-

"Ugh!" she muttered as quietly as she could when she unbelievably missed her own mouth, jabbing her upper chin sharply.

She quickly brought up her hand to wipe away any of the mash that could have possibly stuck to her chin then scanned the hallway with embarrassment, just to make sure that nobody saw her spectacular first day blunder.

After sighing with relief when she caught no laughing eyes staring at her, she continued to eat, this time watching her food.

"Ginny."

She jumped with a start, her eyes widened when she saw Harry looking at her timidly. "Erm… yes?"

"Could you pass the pitcher, please?"

She blinked then looked to where he was pointedly staring at, she grabbed the pitcher and passed it to him with a smile, "Sorry, I couldn't grasp your words for a second there."

He nodded and took the pitcher gratefully, not looking her in the eye.

She got back to her food and felt Ron and Hermione's eyes on her but she ignored it. Harry was obviously thinking something over and what he had just said to her was most probably the most he had spoken that day. Ron and Hermione were probably thinking about things too, Harry most likely. You could just see the worry etched across their faces, it was as obvious as Harry's scar. At least to her it was.

Ron and Hermione had sat in the prefect's compartment again, this time it was mandatory for them to stay put the entire ride. Ginny had sat with Harry all the way, along with Neville and Luna; she couldn't have decided whether the silence they shared was comfortable or not.

She reminisced the weeks before the present and realised that not everything seemed in place. It was more than unsettling they head that when Harry had gotten home to the Dursley's he was prompted with the inheritance of 12 Grimmauld Place.

Everyone got a bit tense when Hermione had openly objected the murder of Kreacher.

After much talking to, Hermione subsided that it would be best if Kreacher was just permanently locked up in a cage. She had also tried to object how Ron had wanted to mess up the room the cage was in with bright Gryffindor colours.

Ginny and Ron had chucked in a few scarves weeks later; it was a bit disturbing how they enjoyed Kreacher's screams. But they weren't all that fussed. One way or another, Kreacher had killed off the last member of his beloved family. Now he belonged to the bane of all his beliefs.

Harry wasn't exactly ecstatic about the arrangement either. But he excepted it, it seemed like he did anyway. He took with such masculine elegance and dignity; such an eerie silence that almost scared her. All that anger, nobody knew where it had gone...

Everyone that summer had thought over every single moment that they had spent in the ministry of magic and how they could have changed it or done something different. The risk of time travel didn't matter to those who had just gotten their very hearts broken that day. But it should have, that's why all the adults had kept a keener eye on all of them.

Every time she felt an adult monitor her every action, she only felt solace in her mind; where she could replay every single moment that would bring back down all that guilt that crumbled inside of her. She imagined Harry to be much worse off and they all knew he was.

What a wreck. What a silent pathetic wreck Harry became and had continued to be until now. But no one could blame him, not Harry. Not after that day.

Who knew what Dumbledore had told him after Sirius died…?

She had half a mind to fear to know the words that were exchanged between the two. When she saw Dumbledore next, he looked awful. He looked like the broken hearted aged man he was supposed to look like; it scared her to no end.

When the strongest people who know start to show signs of cracking, you begin to think the little rays of hope would only go to them. Like that's the moment when the laughing and smiling of the little innocent begin to fade, when things start to get darker and serious. That's how she felt that day.

But today was a little different; it really did feel that way, to her anyway.

Ginny, that is.

Author's ending note: Slightly dull, I know.