A/N: I didn't own Harry Potter in the last chapter, why would I own him now?
"Get out, Ron!" Ginny screamed, flinging the tear-stained pillow at her brother's head. The pillow bounced harmlessly off the barely opened door, falling to the floor. Ginny watched as Ron merely opened the door the rest of the way, slipped inside, and closed the door behind him.
"Ginny?" Ron tentatively asked again. He moved over to sit next to her on the bed, trying to look her in the eye. "What's up?" Ginny could only stifle another sob with her hand, before flinging herself on her brother and sobbing into his shoulder. She managed to calm herself after a few minutes, and tried to tell Ron what was bother her through her hiccups.
"Not that it's any of y-your business, Ronald, but Harry and I," Ginny's voice cracked a little, "broke up a few days ago, at the f-funeral. Seeing him today just made it that much h-harder." More large tears traced tracks on Ginny's cheeks before she continued. "I told him that I wanted to h-help him with whatever he was planning, but he said he wanted me to be s-safe, and that I wouldn't be if I was with him. I love him, Ron, and I need to help him. I would die for him if it came to that. Why doesn't he understand?"
Ginny burrowed her face back into her brother's comfortable shoulder, trying to take a few calming breaths. Ron was always the brother that she went to for comfort when she was younger; she didn't think she would ever come to him for love troubles when she was older. But here he was, rubbing her back and making shushing noises. After awhile, Ginny felt herself calm down, and moved away from Ron so she could wipe her eyes.
"I'm an idiot, aren't I? Fifteen years old and proclaiming my love for the Boy Who Lived to my brother. This must seem really lame to you," Ginny said, shooting a sad smile to the eerily silent Ron. He shook his head, before finally finding his voice.
"No, it's not lame. It's rather brave of you, actually. Finding your true love, admitting that you love him, and being prepared to die for him, all at the age of fifteen? I'm seventeen, and I still haven't managed to do all that."
Ginny gave another watery smile, ruffling Ron's hair. "Well, you've got two out of three, which is pretty good. All you've got to do is tell her, Romeo."
"Who?"
"Romeo." Ginny received only a blank stare. "Juliet? Shakespeare?"
"Muggles?"
"Yeah."
"Oh," sighed Ron. "Well, I can't well focus on Muggle things when my little sister has a problem, can I?" Ron grinned, feeling as if he had easily changed the subject. Ginny just shook her head, allowing him to think he had succeeded for a minute before giving him a gentle shove.
"I'll be fine. You go on and tell her how you feel."
"But how, Ginny?"
"Seeing as words aren't your strong suit, I'd say actions. Go on now, get!" Ginny shooed her brother from the room despite all of his protests, watching as he descended the flight of stairs with hunched shoulders.