Ginny Weasley woke with a gasp.
A startled sob surprised her, as Percy's face, of all things, appeared in front of her. Tears dripping past his skewed glasses, pale hands, large pressed desperately at her throat, her cheek. Her first thought, her first thought is, I have never seen Percy cry.
"Ginny."
Ginny doesn't think she's ever heard her brother sound so scared. Or so unabashedly affectionate as he pressed his face into her neck. And Ginny is suddenly crying because she caused this-
And so much more.
"It was me!" she sobbed, "Oh Percy, this is all my fault-"
"Pretty sure it was Lord Voldemort's fault," said a voice, and when Ginny managed to sit up in her fright, her brother still clinging to her, she can see Harry Potter.
Harry Potter.
With a sword covered in blood in one hand, and a phoenix on his opposite shoulder. Looking tired, covered in scrapes and bruises and enough grime that it must be uncomfortable. With a dead basilisk behind him. Looking for all the world a conquering knight who must've killed the monster she had accidentally commanded. Ginny blinks. And blinks again when she is suddenly dragged out of Percy's arms and into- Ron's.
And the tears are coming again and she can't stop them.
