Ginny

Ginny sat in the darkness of the bedroom she and Hermione had shared in number 12, Gimauld Place since she was fourteen.

Hermione's things were just how she had left them, organized, ordered and perfect. Just like Hermione. Just like-

Crack.

Harry apparated into their room with one foot in the waste basket and the other trying desperately to find solid ground. He would have fallen on his face too, if he hadn't thrown out his arm in time to roll to his feet.

There was rubbish everywhere, Ginny realized with disdain. "Would it kill you to walk up a flight of stairs, Harry? For God's sake," she said irritably.

"Sorry," Harry muttered sheepishly. With a flick of his wand, the scattered trash zoomed back into the bin. Well, most of the trash.

"What is it, Harry?" she tried to keep the hate out of her voice. It was hard, but she did it. She had to.

"I want to talk about Hermione-" Harry began.

Ginny's temper, always so close to the surface, rose. Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. Even without being here, she was fucking everywhere.

"Look Harry, I know you're worried about her, because I am too. I feel terrible about it, but remember the rules? Don't look back."

Harry's face was clouded with anger. "So you want us to just forget about her and leave her to the wolves?"

"That's not what I-"

"Oh, save it Ginny," he snarled. Ginny could feel the hot waves of anger radiating from him. "We all know how much you wanted her gone, you know. You were always jealous of her and I bet you're pleased that she's gone. You get one thing straight. We're going to find her, and you will never take her place!"

And with that, Harry strode forcefully to the bedroom door, wrenched it open and vanished down the stairs.

Ginny sat silent through his outburst. When he was gone, she quietly got up and shut the door. And sat back down. And put her head in her hands once more.

It was true, all of it. Yes. She had been jealous of Hermione. Yes, she wanted Hermione's place between her dearest brother Ron and her school girl crush Harry.

But that was when Ginny had stars in her eyes. That was before she had seen Harry and Hermione in a lip lock, before her heart was broken into a million pieces. It was before her family had been murdered for hiding Harry fucking Potter in their home.

The memory still made her cry. That's something you cant get over. Ginny had come home from Bill and Fleur's place to see the Dark Mark hovering over her childhood home. Or whatever had remained of it. It was just a smoking mass.

Mum, Dad, Charlie, Percy and her beloved Fred and George. All dead. The screams that had ripped from her throat were so raw that not even Bill stuffing her face into his chest could muffle it.

It took six Avada Kedavra's to make the Weasley family part of a statistic. Bill, Ron and Ginny became part of the other statistic. The kind cursed to live.

And then Bill had died. Again, because of Harry.

Now it was just her…and Ron. They were alone in this war torn world, but Ron had turned his back on her too. Just like Bill, just like Fleur, just like the rest of the world.

Harry had taken everything from her. And then had the nerve to hate her.

Ron might have turned a blind eye to the murder of his family, but not Ginny.

Fred and George with their jokes and toys, always making her laugh.

Bill, with his ponytail, who always let her brush his hair and tie it up.

Percy, who was there to check her homework or simply muss her hair.

And Charlie, with his strong arms who would pick her up and spin her in circles and tell her the stories behind his scars and burns.

And Mum and Dad, her very best friends in the world.

Ginny clenched her fists. She would avenge them all. If it was the last thing she did, Harry would pay for taking her family away from her.