"We're home!" Ron cried as he appeared in the fire place, stepping out of the green flames and dusting off his robes. "Ginny. We've got a surprise for you!" Ron shouted as another figure appeared, spinning in the flames.

Harry stepped out of the grate, stooping his head beneath the mantle and picking bits of ash off of himself and then taking his glasses from his pocket and replacing them on his face.

Mrs. Weasley appeared a moment later and took Ron aside while Harry's trunk was being sorted out after it appeared with Mr. Weasley who apparated with it a moment later. "Go upstairs and get Ginny, Ron. She's been rather upset about Harry as you know and having him burst in while she's sick might not be the best thing for her." Ron nodded and went up the stairs quietly while Mrs. Weasley offered Harry something to eat.

He came up the stairs to her room and knocked gently. "Ginny?" He said softly. There was no reply so he knocked again a bit louder, "Ginny. It's Ron, can I come in?"

He waited a moment. "Gin, Come on, I know you're upset and you don't feel well, but would you come down for a bit?"

He waited. Still no reply. She was just being stubborn now.

"Ginny, come on!" He said, but his hand went to twist the doorknob and it stood fast.

Ginny never locked her door.

"Ginny. Unlock your door."

"Right now, Ginny."

"Ginny. You're scaring me."

He rattled the door and his heart began to pound in his chest. Something felt very very wrong. There was still no sound from the room. He knocked again, louder.

"Ginny. Ginny I'm coming in."

He tore his wand from his pocket. "Alohomora." He said and with a click the lock gave way.

It was much darker in the room than it was in the hallway. His eyes squinted for a moment as they adjusted to the dimness. He saw her still form under the comforter on her bed, and scrambled across the room to where she lay, candles toppling over and hot wax spilling on his shoes as he rushed to her side. Her face was visible above the blankets, her long red hair spilling out over her pillow. Her mouth was open slightly, and her lips were pale, her cheek had no color in it. She was still. Ron stared at her for a moment, afraid to breathe. Her eyelashes didn't flutter with the life of one sleeping, they were still; stuck together with dried salt that stained her face in stripes. "Ginny." He whispered. She didn't stir. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his heart scarcely beating. "Ginny. Ginny it's time to get up now." He murmured. His hand came up slowly to caress her cheek but he recoiled suddenly. She was cold. Slowly, his eyes burning, he pulled the blankets down off her naked white shoulder and heaved a shuddering gasp as he saw the wet dark stain that surrounded her, the deep gashes in both her slender arms.

"Oh fuck." He choked. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Ginny. Ginny. Ginny." He sobbed. He gathered her cold still form into his arms and tears began to spill out of his eyes. He cradled her close to him. "Ginny. Oh fuck. Ginny. Ginny." He coughed and sobbed and rocked back and forth holding her limp naked body in his arms and tears pouring from his eyes. "No. No, no no." He groaned and looked down at her blank face. "Oh Ginny. Oh God. Oh Ginny." For a moment there was nobody in the world except for Ron. And he held his baby sister in his arms like he had when she had come home from St. Mungo's wrapped in soft pink blankets, when she skinned her knee and he had carried her sobbing down the lane, when they'd won a Quidditch match and he'd lifted her up in an embrace.

She was gone. And then as the panic welled inside him and the helplessness grew like a void in the middle of his heart he screamed his sister's name.