Disclaimer: I do not own anything that has to do with Harry Potter, nor do I have any association with J.K. Rowling.

AN: Despite how it may appear at first,this is not going to be a story about Ginny mutilating herself/turning into a Goth/committing suicide. I'm not like that and I doubt that she would be either. Please read and rate, but I will continue writing regardless.

Separation

She felt no sting as she dragged the sharp tip of the quill over the smooth skin of her left forearm. The ache within her heart was so great that it numbed the pain. Unaware of anything but her own thoughts, she pressed the quill tip deeper as she traced his initials over and over - 'H.P."

Ginny Weasley had known for a long time that she would need to be the strong one. Her brother, Ron, was Harry's best friend and did enough worrying for all of them. It seemed that every time she and Ron were together, he had a new question for her. Had she heard from Harry yet? What is he up to now? Why isn't he returning any owls?

However, within the privacy of her own room, accentuated by the charm-proof lock that Fred and George had installed, Ginny could allow her emotions to run freely. She no longer had to worry about sympathetic smiles from her mother, or the horrible "I-told-you-so" looks from Ron, who had never been comfortable with Harry dating his little sister. Two weeks ago, he had caught her crying silently over one of Harry's old spell books when she thought that no one was around. He had wasted no time in telling her that she should have never gotten together with Harry - that he had known that she would somehow get hurt.

"Harry would never hurt me," Ginny reminded herself, "He is only trying to protect me from Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Besides, it's not like he has found anyone else – he's too busy saving the world."

The sudden thought of Harry in red tights and a flowing cape made Ginny break into a smile and realize what she was doing to herself. She snatched the quill away from her forearm, and stared at the letters, quite visible on her pale skin. It had not been her intention to harm herself – she had only meant to express how much he meant to her, how much she missed him.

Tentatively, Ginny stroked her raw skin. It only stung a little. With luck, it would fade before she forgot about it and unintentionally showed it to one of her family members – or even worse, Hermione.

Hermione, Harry's other closest friend, was staying with the Weasleys for the summer. She and Ginny had become very close, and there was no one that Ginny trusted more. Hermione was the only person who knew why Ginny occasionally locked herself in her room for hours on end. Surprisingly, everyone else pretended to believe Ginny when she said that she was studying for all that time, trying to get a head start on her sixth year workload.

If Hermione discovered that Ginny had begun to self-harm, regardless of its severity, she would never let her alone. She would likely suggest that they sleep in the same room, so that she could keep an eye on her. Come to think of it, she would probably want to sleep in the same bed –

"Ginny! Supper's ready!" Ginny's thoughts were yanked back into the present by the voice of none other than Hermione, right outside her door.

"I'll be right down!" Ginny replied, trying to keep her voice level as she rose from her bed and tossed her quill on to her bedside table.

She was careful to grab a long-sleeved sweater before opening her door and heading to the nearest washroom. She held it over her arm as she passed Ron, heading for the stairs in the opposite direction.

"How's the studying going?" asked Ron mischievously as he brushed by her. Without even waiting for an answer, he leaped down the stairs.

"How come you didn't use Apparition to get downstairs?" Ginny yelled petulantly after him, knowing that he had still not mastered the common art of disappearing and re-appearing in another place.

She closed the washroom door behind her and quickly pulled on the sweater. She then proceeded to turn on the tap. Mrs. Weasley had become especially particular about sanitation as of late. Ginny, Fred, and George had joked about curses living on unclean hands, at which Mrs. Weasley blushed a deep scarlet and muttered something about it "being possible". Of course, this was free license for Ginny and the twins to tease her even more.

Ginny let out a yelp of pain as the hot water hit the tender skin. When she looked down, she noticed that the initials had turned a bright, sore red. 'H.P.'

"I did it for Harry," Ginny whispered to herself as she gently pulled her sleeve down over the marks.