(A/N)

Thanks for the reviews!

Chapter Warnings- Self harm mentioned.

Harry Potter does not in fact belong to me.

"Why, Ginny?" Ginny pondered this as she looked back at Harry, truth seeping out of her.

"I wish I knew."

Ginny sat on Harry's bed, watching the minutes tick by on the small digital clock sitting on the bedside table. Harry was sitting next to her, holding her arm out, looking intently at each of the cuts Ginny had inflicted on herself, treating the ones that had become infected. He bit his lip, a wave of emotion brought on by the mix of lack of sleep and seeing what the girl he always thought of as sweet, innocent, was doing to herself. He'd heard of this- people cutting themselves- and heard of the reasons why. He'd even tried making a small slit in his upper arm, once, to see if it helped. But all it had given him was a throbbing arm and the false explanation of a broken dish to Hermione when she'd tended to it for him.

Harry could not imagine actually taking a razor blade and dragging it into his flesh, just because any emotional pain was great enough to merit it. He turned her arm over, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the pain she'd inflicted herself. He'd never admit it to her, but he was quite sure he had feelings for her, feelings that went further than brotherly affection. Over the summer, he couldn't help but watch her, the way her smile lit up a room, the way her firey red hair blew in the wind as she played Quiddich with the boys, the way her firey red personality blew when they tried to cheat. There was a Hogsmeade weekend that particular weekend, and he'd been meaning to talk to Ron it about it, although little did he know that Ron and Hermione had discussed it in detail during their midnight sneak away sessions. Harry was going to have tried to ask her to the Yule Ball next month.

But had this changed things? It was hard to say. Ginny continued staring at the clock, watching as it flickered, from 5:13, to 5:14, time seeming to drip through slow as mud. Harry saw the intense confusion and pain in her eyes, and his first instinct was to wrap his arms around her and attempt to protect her from the world- but instead he just reached across the bed for her hand and began stroking it absentmindedly with his thumb. He understood, to a certain degree, her pain- God only knows Harry had gone through more pain at the young age of fifteen than most full-grown wizards had. He knew, deep down in the back of his consciousness, that it was his fault. All of this, the nightmares Ginny had, the extreme mutilation in her arm, the pain in her eyes, it was all his fault.

All of the sudden, they both looked straight at each other and at the same second, opened their mouths to speak. Ginny chuckled dryly and nodded at Harry to proceed. He spoke in a hollow voice, trying to void his tone of all emotion unsuccessfully.

"Ginny… I'm… I'm sorry." Ginny looked at him, his words not the ones she'd expected. She looked at him, sighing. He'd been through so much, and knew that this, her little… problem, would just be more stress for a wizard who already had too much. But what could he possibly be sorry for?

"Sorry for what?" Harry sighed, not able if he'd be able to hold his composure together long enough to explain it to her. Nevertheless, he owed it to her.

"Sorry for… for everything I've put you through. That first time I sat with Ron on the Hogwarts Express… ever since then, I've brought nothing but grief to your entire family." Ginny shook her head in the negative.

"Harry, believe me when I say it's not you. First of all, I'm the one that Voldemort went through to open the Chamber of Secrets-" Harry interrupted her.

"But he wouldn't have used you had he not known that I would try to save you." Ginny shrugged this off, too tired to argue about it as she rubbed her arm which was dully throbbing.

"And it's definitely not your fault that my own damn family doesn't even have time for me." Harry looked at Ginny, a puzzled look in his eyes. It was obvious, at least to him that Molly loved Ginny, her only girl, to pieces. Ginny sighed.

"And it's not your fault that I'm failing nearly all of my classes." She finished with a defiant, unspoken, 'so there' in her tone. Harry moved on to the bed with her and sat next to her, tentatively putting an arm around her.

"I thought you were getting help with your schoolwork from Hermione?" Ginny nodded.

"I am. But… the nightmares… I haven't been sleeping, I've fallen asleep in classes so many times, I'm so behind…" With that, tears started again and Ginny buried her head in Harry's chest, not wanting him to even look at her.

"I don't know what to do Harry… I'm… I'm scared." She spoke in a small voice, the next statement almost completely muffled.

"Sometimes I wish he would've just killed me Harry." Harry pulled her back and stared into her watery eyes.

"How can you even say that, Ginny? I never would've forgiven myself. You… you're…" He looked at her again, and Ginny saw affection in his eyes. She shook it off. Lack of sleep, loss of blood, it was making her delusional. Harry took a deep breath and continued his statement.

"You're one of the most beautiful, unique, passionate girls I know and I really couldn't imagine life- summers, especially- without you." Ginny looked back up at him, a new sparkle in her eyes.

"Harry… do you mean it?" He nodded, surprised she ever would have to ask. She hugged him again then and smiled a little, and although it didn't reach her eyes, it made Harry happy, for it was the first time he'd seen her genuinely smile in a long time.

"It's just… lately I feel like I don't matter to anyone." Ginny sniffed a little and wiped away a few stray tears in vain, not able to stop more from coming. "I feel like I could just slip off of the earth and no one would even notice." Harry's brow furrowed at the untrue things pouring from the youngest Weasley's mouth.

"How can you even say that, Ginny? Your entire family loves you. Percy's a little iffy-" Ginny chuckled morosely "but Fred and George adore you, Bill and Charlie would bite the heads off of anyone that came near you, and even Ron cares for you in his own unique way, I think. He just has an unusual way of showing it. And me…" Harry looked at her eyes, which were probing his, searching for the conclusion to his sentence, as if it would seal her fate. "I'd be completely, utterly lost without you, Ginny." She smiled at him again, happy to know that someone did, after all, care about her.

She looked at the clock and realized that it was nearly 6:30. Harry followed her gaze, and cursed again, springing off the bed.

"You'd better go get dressed, Gin… Ron wouldn't love it if he came back and you were… well, like you are. He'd just jump to conclusions, I'm afraid." Ginny bit her lip, wishing to herself that the conclusions Ron would jump to had he found them would be valid. She nodded and grabbed her things.

As she was walking out the door, she turned back to Harry, her red hair swooshing with the sudden movement.

"Thank you, Harry. I really mean it." Harry gave her a half smile.

"Gin? I know… I know it'd be selfish of me, I guess, to ask you to stop, but… can you … if you have a nightmare, and you try to do that to yourself again, can you… just come get me first, okay? I won't tell Ron or Hermione or your mum, but please… try not to, okay? I care too much about you." Ginny nodded in the affirmative before walking out the door, flashing him a small smile and wave as the door shut.

Harry sunk into his bed with a sigh. What the hell was he doing to the people he loved?

Just then, the door swung open. Thinking it was Ginny, Harry sprung up, a wide smile on his face, but sank back into his bed when he saw it was not, in fact, the Weasley he most wanted to see.

Ron walked into the room, staring off into space, a love struck grin on his face. Harry laughed in spite of himself.

"And where, Mr. Weasley, have you been all night?" Ron, broken from his revalry, spun around and saw Harry sitting on the bed.

"Oh.. er.. see … I couldn't sleep… and I was.." Harry sniffed the room.

"And Ron, why do you smell like strawberries?" Ron blushed a little.

"I… might've been with Hermione?" Harry went over and clapped his best friend on the back.

"It's about time, mate. Good job." Ron beamed. "I think I love her, Harry." Ron then looked at Harry's bed and frowned at the bloody tissues and antiseptic lying there.

"What were you doing last night, mate?" Harry looked back at his bed and frowned. He hurried over and swept everything under his bed.

"Nothing.. nothing. So, you and 'Mione, eh?" The change of topic was a welcome one for Ron, and they spent the rest of the morning cheerfully discussing Ron's new relationship. Meanwhile, there was a certain redheaded girl that Harry couldn't quite seem to get out of his mind.

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