Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, the all belong to JKR - I just own the plot! :)

Chapter 1

"Hey Gin! How-...Bloody hell, you look like shit. What have you been doing to yourself?" Ron Weasley asked, with his usual amount of tact, his younger sister, Ginny, who was standing at his door. He wasn't being the typical older brother and overreacting, either, the only way to describe the way she looked was... "like shit." She had huge dark circles under her eyes, her clothes were wrinkled, and a certain aura of stale drink emanated from them. Her fire-red hair seemed to be clean, but Ginny hadn't taken the time to brush it before she left the house, so it wasn't the most presentable it had ever been. But worst of all, what Ron didn't notice because he turned away too quickly to see, was her eyes. They were still brown, but the eyes that used to always seem to have streaks of light dancing in them, once always happy, were now hollow, and unnaturally tired.... The most frightening aspect about them, however, was that they seemed to be locked from the inside, and Ginny didn't look like she was opening the doors any time soon.

Looking tiredly at her brother, Ginny sighed and said "Thanks, Ron. Look, I'm not staying for long, just here to meet Herm–" but she never finished that sentence, because her breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of the one person she wanted to both see the least and the most at the same time sitting on Ron's couch, sipping a bottle of butterbeer – Harry Potter. Ginny panicked internally – she didn't want him to see her like this! She had gotten drunk, as usual, the night before and had just passed out on the couch. After waking up too late this morning to have time to change or shower, she had just kept on the clothes she had worn yesterday to meet Hermione to go to lunch – Ginny knew how she hated to be kept waiting, especially on the weekends. It was interesting; weekends are normally thought to be days when you can relax without worrying about anything, but after being roommates with Hermione for almost three years, (and having lived in the dorm next to hers in Hogwarts) Ginny had learned that Hermione saw weekends as a time to get as much "fun" stuff done as possible before the week started up again. Oh sod it, Ginny thought to herself. He never notices what I wear anyway, no reason why now would be different.

Sighing internally, again, Ginny stepped gingerly into the apartment, and said softly "Is Hermione almost ready? We really have to get going. I've got stuff to do later today." Even though she knew perfectly well she most definitely didn't – unless you counted getting stone drunk again as soon as she came back from lunch, though that certainly wasn't a new occurrence. It happened every night, except for Thursdays.

"Hey Ginny! I'll be right there, just have to find my jumper in your brother's mess of a bedroom." Hermione's voice came floating out from somewhere in the back of the apartment. Ginny groaned, though quietly so no one could hear, of course. She just didn't want to have to spend anymore time than necessary looking like she did in the same room as the man she had been in love with for around ten years or so – well, that's if you include when she simply had a crush on her brother's very good-looking best friend at the age of ten.

The room fell to be oddly quiet. Ron looked strangely at the two of them, Harry sitting normally on the couch finishing off his drink, and Ginny sitting ramrod straight on the edge of her chair, as if she was prepared to bolt off any second now. Rolling his eyes, Ron stood up, and walked towards the back of the apartment, "Let me help you look, 'Mione!" Within a nanosecond, he was out the living room door, leaving Harry and Ginny alone.

Ginny didn't know what to say, and was about to start making small talk, when Harry started to speak. "So Gin, we still on for Thursday?" He smiled that simple, heart-breaking smile that made Ginny go weak at the knees every time she saw it.

Trying to look happy, and not at all apprehensive at the thought, Ginny replied as warmly as she could muster "Yes, absolutely."

Harry looked thrilled. "Brilliant! Whose place this time, yours or mine?"

Ginny sighed mentally, though a bit of quick acting made it look like she was pondering the question and not simply thinking, it won't matter anyway. "How about here? We always seem to meet at my place."

Just as Harry said, "Great! I–" Ron and Hermione stumbled into the room, looking a little too flushed for either Harry or Ginny's comfort.

Hermione finished buttoning up her top, and, quickly regaining her poise, said briskly, "Let's get going, Ginny! We have loads to do today!"

So, smiling weakly, Ginny stood up to leave. The two girls walked out of the living room, and into the front hall, but before they could leave, Ginny could faintly hear the beginning of Ron and Harry's conversation. "So, Harry, tell me about this new girl you met last night."

Ginny could hear the smirk in Harry's voice. "Well, I'm not sure 'met' is quite the right word... let's try fu–"

Before she could hear anymore, Ginny flew out of the apartment and onto the street to wait for Hermione to find her purse. Breathing heavily, Ginny closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry. Not now... oh Merlin, don't do this now....

Just then Hermione walked cheerfully out of the building smiling. But as soon as she saw Ginny with her eyes shut tight, leaning against the wall for support, her look became sad, and weighed heavy with pity. "Oh, Ginny, I'm sorry... I didn't –"

Ginny's eyes flew open, and she cut her off. "Don't be sorry," she snapped. "There's nothing to be sorry about." The two women stood there looking at each other silently for a moment, before Ginny spoke again, resigned. "So, where are we going first then?" She attempted to smile.

Hermione, though still worried for her best friend, grinned back, and started walking quickly down the street, looking back every few steps to make sure Ginny was keeping up, while rambling about buying this and that, going here and there. Ginny sighed, and jogged to keep up with the one friend she truly had left.