(a/n- I may be adding onto this - I don't really know. Let me know if I should. This was done late at night without spell check so pardon the errors..)

Ginny's feet landed softly and silently on the carpet next to her bed, guiding her knowingly to the window across the room. If it weren't for the moonlight streaming in, the room might have been pitch black. Ginny sat down on the cool sill and opened the window.

For the third night since Harry had left, Ginny sat at her window and stared into her back yard, expecting him to be waiting there for her like he used to. It had become a habit; waking up every night at 2:00 to talk with Harry from her window. Sometimes it would just be a quick hello - enough to keep them from being so obviously in love the next day, enough to keep them both fixed until morning. But in the past few nights, Ginny had been disappointed as she sat on her window, because Harry had left. Gone. This war...she knew nothing about it, nothing other than that her boyfriend, her greatest love, was taking part in it.

Ginny knew, deep in the pit of her stomach - he would be fine. Actually, knowing Harry, he would be more than fine. He would be the hero of that entire war, of the entire battle. And, Ginny knew, when Harry returned, he would act like nothing had happened. And this, she thought, was most impressive.

Ron had gone, too. Hermione was a wreck. Her letters to Ginny had been brief and cut up, with out punctuation, and the letters were smeared from, Ginny guessed, Hermione's tears. Ginny knew what it feltl ike. She had done her fair share of crying, but resolved to stop when she realized that the feel of tears coming down her cheeks didn't make one feel better, after a while. But the thought of her own brother out, fighting beside some of the most powerful wizards, was unnerving. Ginny assured herself - Ron would be fine. She had a way of sensing things like this. Ron would be just fine.

Ginny slipped off the window sill and pulled her nightgown closer to her. It was enough window sitting for one night. She was reminded of what Harry had told her before he'd gone.

"Don't miss me," he'd said firmly, and kissed her forehead. "I'll be doing enough missing for the both of us."

Ginny nodded. She highly doubted that she wouldn't miss him.

"And don't worry," he said. "It's wasted."

Ginny murmured in agreement. She remembered her mother telling her that once - Worry is a wasted emotion. It was true, really - worrying wouldn't do anything.

"I have to go now," Harry said in a low voice, and Ginny could see his adam's apple bobbing, and felt his tears run onto her face when he kissed her. "I love you," he whispered close to her mouth.

"I love you, too," Ginny said, squeezing his hand. Harry gave her one last glance through his bright eyes, and then he was gone. That was all Ginny had to hold on to - his red cheeks, thin figure, and messy black hair, walking out of the doorframe of her room.

Actually, there was one more thing. Ginny opened her nightstand drawer and felt around, finally pulling out a tee shirt. It was old, thin, and soft - it was Harry's, and he had left it in the Weasley's laundry room. Ginny held it out in front of her. The words "Not everyone can be a Gryffindor Seeker!" were across the back, and she remembered how it had looked on Harry, hanging loosely across his shoulder blades.

Ginny closed her eyes and brought the shirt to her face, inhaling what she remembered of Harry - Soap, grass, and a hint of aftershave lotion. She laid the shirt neatly over her pillow, and placed her head down on the worn material. This was what was left, and it was just enough.