She lay in the dark, stroking the fur of her worn stuffed animal, hoping that the familiar feeling would provide some comfort, perhaps finally allow her to sleep. Tears kept falling and the questions in her mind kept swarming, trying desperately to analyze every word and movement of the day. Memories of the funeral, secret fears of the future, and Harry's words, the words she felt she secretly had known were coming, flowed continually through her mind. Of course she understood all his reasons, she understood that he was trying to protect her, but at the same time she was tired, so tired of being the protected one. Why did she have to be left behind while Hermione got to push forward, to stand there with him? Of course all these questions fell behind her real wandering at his saying that he couldn't bear to see someone else he cared for die for him, could he love her, did cared mean love in reference to her? Surely not. She may be a girl, but she certainly wasn't one of those girls who made everything emotional, in fact being one of those girls was always one of her greatest fears. This was all about his need to focus, his need to not worry, and his stupid saving people thing. Then her mind wandered on to a question that had been gnawing at her for what seemed to be an eternity, did she love him? Love was a big word, and something she didn't think she was ready to say. Love to her was what she saw between her parents, a deep commitment that lasted through seven children, the first war with voldemort, and tumultuous financial difficulties. When she loved someone she wanted it to be love like that, not infatuation or lust, but a serving, enduring, strong love. Boys in the past had said they loved her, but she didn't even give it a second thought, because she knew all along that it was just infatuation or a fun date for her and for them. That's what made Harry different, he had never thrown around words, never said those three little words to try and push her further than she wanted to go. He was always honest, and he was the only one that might treasure those words as much as she did, for different reasons she supposed. He was also the only one that she had even thought of saying it to, the only one she had pictured saying those words to her, the only one she had those silly fantasies about that girls try to hide. But did she love him? Everything inside of her said yes, but then the question becomes what to do, how to react because if Ginny was anything she was a girl of action. What could she do? Not try and force him to get back together, no, that wasn't the plan. She wanted him to be enabled to do what he needed to do, and she could sacrifice what she wanted for his sake. So then what, how? And then she knew, the only thing, the most helpful thing. She would simply love him, strongly, enduringly, and be willing to help and encourage, and that was all….she would just love him.