A/N: I hope all the Ginny-fans in the audience like this one. For me, this was a scene I wanted to see in the last book: Ginny and her "Ginny-ness" just ripping away.

I have a new one-shot, Face, all about Lavender Brown after the Battle of Hogwarts, for the Reviews Lounge "Fanon Fact" Challenge.

I have another new one-shot, The Ravenclaw Three, about the friendship and fraternity between Michael, Terry and Anthony. It fits in with the ". . . From Hell" series.

Rated T for language. I own nothing. A big thanks to stella8h8chang for her beta.


Chapter 8: Just Another Weasley

"Ow! That's – my – shoulder!"

"How else am I supposed to get high enough?!"

"I dunno! Try doing it without causing me pain!"

Ginny Weasley was having a devil of a time trying to see if she could get above the bubble of the Muffliato Charm cast around Ron's bedroom. Of course, since Hermione must've been the one who'd cast it, the top-most limit of the spell could've been at any point beyond her reach.

Unfortunately, for Daphne Greengrass, whose shoulders and back were currently being used as a ladder, that meant a number of attempts involving Ginny's foot, Daphne's body . . . and a whole lot of discomfort.

"OW!" Daphne whispered again, however, the volume of her voice was inching up louder and louder.

"Well, if you'd just firm up your back—"

"My back can't get firm or hard because you keep stepping on it!"

"Dammit!" Ginny exclaimed. "We're never gonna be able to hear them." She put her hands on her hips while still holding her Extendable Ear and bit her lip. "There's gotta be some way to figure out what's going on in there." She nudged her head toward her brother's bedroom.

Daphne and Ginny had decided to try to eavesdrop on Harry, Ron and Hermione. They saw them enter Ron's bedroom surreptitiously after finally breaking free from Molly's demands and requests for wedding preparations. Unfortunately, their efforts were for naught, as the Muffliato Charm was just as imperturbable as an Imperturbable Charm.

Well, insofar as their Extendable Ears were concerned.

"Ah! It's hopeless." Daphne sighed.

"We'll just have to rummage through their things or something when they're not in there."

Daphne looked at Ginny, who appeared to be dead serious.

(Damn! She can be right scary!)

(Was she bloody reading my mind?)

Daphne snorted. "I was going to suggest the same thing."

"So, why don't we meet up the next time Mum has them working on something?"

"Sounds good—"

Daphne's voice was cut off as the door opened. Both girls gave a start as they faced the rather surprised faces of Harry, Ron and Hermione. The trio's surprise, however, melted into expressions of exasperation and annoyance with the two girls.

"So're you two out for a nice midday walk in the middle of our hallway?" Ron asked Daphne and Ginny.

"Well, Ginny here wanted to check on . . . er . . . this, um, rusty hinge or, er, something . . . on your door." Daphne finished rather meekly.

"You were going to fix a rusty hinge with Extendable Ears, huh?" Harry cocked his eyebrow at the pair.

Ginny glared at him. Harry flinched at her expression. "You know what, Harry?" She sauntered up to him, her arms crossed against her chest. "We've got absolutely no idea what you three are planning. The only thing we do know is that it involves abandoning Hogwarts and your families to do something Dumbledore asked you to do. We were only trying to see if we could help you lot out!"

"Ginny," Harry's voice became suddenly stern. "I understand that. But the one thing the both of you can do for us right now is to stay out of it." He walked closer to her, and his face became as hard and as angry as hers had. "The less you two know, the better — this goes for you too, Daphne." Harry addressed Ginny's partner-in-crime, but he kept his eyes on Ginny, staring at her fiercely and determined not to falter.

Ginny and Harry continued their stare-down for a few minutes more . . . until Ginny was the first to break it. She hissed in frustration, and stomped into Ron's bedroom.

"Hey, runt!" Ron followed her back inside his room. "Did I tell you you could come in?"

Ginny ignored his angry tone and sat down on his bed, letting out a sigh, heavy with disappointment. "I feel so bloody useless." She shook her head. "Just . . . tell me something. Tell us something that we can do to help you!" She gestured wildly between her and Daphne, who, for a surprising change of pace, managed to keep whatever snarky comments down. She was all too satisfied to allow Ginny the spotlight.

(Might as well blend in.)

(Ginny looks like she's ready to start some shi—)

"Ginny, we can't—"

"Why? Because of Dumbledore, right?" Ginny stopped and pinched the bridge of her nose. " Shit! I'm . . . I'm sorry." She shook her head. "It's just bloody frustrating to feel like you're the only one not contributing, that you're the only one not doing anything to help out."

Daphne swallowed.

(Just like I did. . . . just like I didn't go after Malfoy harder last year.)

(The runt may be annoying, but at least she fought with them that night.)

(I just sat in the Slytherin common room and got pissed with Blaise!)

She averted her eyes so no one would see that they were growing fairly wet.

Ginny looked back up at Harry, Ron and Hermione and continued. "My family, my friends — none of you need me. None of you need us." Ginny lamely pointed toward Daphne's direction.

Daphne took a breath, and the four teens turned their attention to her. "I . . . I just . . . I fucked up last year."

Ron shook his head. "We've been over this. It was my fault Bill was hurt, and it was your fault not finding out about Malfoy . . ." He shrugged without a hint of amusement. "Two faults should cancel each other out."

Daphne grunted and shook her head. "I should've been there with you guys." She pushed off the wall and started pacing in Ron's room. "I wasn't there at the Astronomy Tower. I didn't help you lot fight Greyback, the Death Eaters, Malfoy . . . Snape," she said as she crossed the length of the room all over again. "An-and I know what you're gonna say, that I shouldn't blame myself. But if I had investigated my house more, and if I had just kept my blasted D.A. Galleon on me—"

"Malfoy might have found another way in." Hermione walked toward her. "It's absolutely no use blaming yourself for anything that happened last year. If you keep looking back at the past like that, you won't see what's right in front of you."

Daphne looked at Hermione with a troubled expression. "Still doesn't help me stop feeling like this." She shook her head. "Still doesn't help me stop feeling like I let people down." She stopped her pacing and leaned up against Ron's wardrobe.

Ginny took up their case. "We just . . . we need to do something for you. For all of you."

"What the two of you can do for us, is to not do anything." Harry spoke up. He looked briefly at Daphne, and then turned back to Ginny.

Ginny addressed the rest of the room.

"Can you please give Harry and me a few minutes?"

Ron was a bit disgruntled — either at Ginny and Harry being alone in a room since breaking up, or at being kicked out of his own room. He walked out, grumbling under his breath about being ordered around by a little twerp. Daphne and Hermione both followed him out the door.

Once they shut the door to Ron's bedroom, he turned to Daphne, giving her a sad smile. "Last one to stop blaming themselves for absolutely everything is a pile of dragon dung." He tried to keep his voice light, but there were definite melancholy undertones to his voice.

"Do we really suck this much, Ron?" She looked at him with a pathetic expression.

Ron could only shrug.

"Oh, stop it! Both of you." Hermione stomped toward them. "Did you not hear me in there?" she asked Ron. "Both of you need to stop dwelling on what happened in the past, and focus on the present and what all of us need to do." Hermione's eyes traveled between Daphne and Ron. "We've all made mistakes before, but no one, single mistake was the cause for anything that happened last year. Please," Hermione said, her hand grabbing a hold of one of Daphne's and one of Ron's, "all this talk that anything that happened is your fault is coming from you, and you alone. Ron," Hermione said, pumping his hand up and down as she spoke to him, "it won't do Harry any good if you allow any of your self-blame to affect you."

Daphne noticed Ron wince and face darken in an odd way when Hermione mentioned Harry.

"Daphne, there is no one — absolutely not one of us — that honestly believes that the attack on Hogwarts was because you didn't do enough—"

"But I should've done more, Hermione! I can't tell if didn't look hard enough, or investigate Malfoy more because I didn't want to know, or I was in denial or . . . or, something—"

Hermione shook her head. "Just think, though. Malfoy was helping out witches and wizards far more powerful than him, and Snape was in Hogwarts that night anyway. Snape would've found a way to carry out the plan to kill Dumbledore, no matter if they used the Vanishing Cabinets or not." Hermione looked at both Daphne and Ron and sighed. "Let's just leave this for right now." She looked back at Ron's bedroom door, which was now shut, giving Harry and Ginny some privacy. "Let's go downstairs and help your Mum out with some chores."

"B-but what about . . ." Ron thumbed at the shut door.

Hermione shook her head and tugged on his shirt. "They're both old enough to control themselves—"

"Explain to me what you mean by 'controlling themselves'?!" Ron exclaimed. Hermione tutted and dragged him down the stairs, followed closely by Daphne.


It was Ginny's turn to pace in Ron's bedroom.

She had just kicked out her brother, Hermione, and Daphne so she could have this little tête-à-tête with her ex-boyfriend.

Now she was thinking about what she wanted to say to Harry. She didn't want what little time he still had at the Burrow to be sullied by an argument with her.

But there were things she had to get off her chest.

"Er . . . Ginny?"

Ginny halted and faced him. Her chin was in her hand as she had been rubbing it in order to get her thoughts in order.

She took a deep breath.

"Do you know what it's like to sit to the side and watch you and Ron and Hermione planning and plotting and preparing, and feel helpless because I can't go with you?"

Harry creased his brow and shook his head. "Ginny—"

"No, no. Let me talk." Ginny walked toward him, her face inches from Harry. "You three have your task ahead of you, and it wasn't something you chose to do, but it is something you have to do. Fine." Ginny kept her voice steady. "I've come to terms with that. I've had a bit of time to deal with that." She walked toward the window that looked out over the paddock. "If I just let all three of you walk away from here and fight on your own, without forcing you to take me along—" Ginny shook her head and looked down at the floor. "I already feel worthless in this whole thing . . . I already feel like everyone's trying to keep me out of harm's way, and Bill's almost lost part of his face, and George did lose part of his head. Sirius and Dumbledore and Cedric all died—" Ginny turned to face Harry, and she knew she was about to cry because her chin trembled; a dead giveaway just before her tears would break. "What's the point in keeping me safe when others are fighting and dying? Why shouldn't I give myself to the cause, to help you?"

She moved closer to Harry.

"I can't watch you take my brother, my best friend and yourself into war. I can't just sit back and watch all of you march to probable death! I can't do it and not feel this need to be a part of it."

Ginny had closed the space between her and Harry. Before she even realized it, her hands were on his chest. She was breathing in short, quick bursts and she kept looking at him.

Just looking at him.

"G-Ginny," Harry stuttered, clearly having trouble finding the right words to say. "It might be unfair to you to watch everything that's happening. To not be a part of it, even though people really close to you are." Harry, apparently unable to help himself, stepped closer to Ginny, their noses nearly touching each other's. "But you have no idea at all what you being alive means to me, what it means to your family, to Ron and Hermione."

Harry blinked for a long time and brought his hand up to touch her cheek. Ginny shut her eyes and leaned into his palm.

"You know I have to do this," he said quietly, almost in a whisper. "Dumbledore said I could let Ron and Hermione in, but no one — and I mean no – one — else. That includes any of your family, Lupin, or any member of the Order."

Ginny opened her eyes. "But why the hell does that mean I can't fight!" She turned sharply around. "You've bloody seen me cast spells, or hex the buttocks off of Malfoy and his cronies. I fought with you and Ron and Hermione, and I only came away with a busted ankle! And I was there last year!" She spoke in a whispered, but harsh, tone. "I fought those Death Eaters too, just like Neville and Ron and the Order did. What's changed since then, since a month ago, that now I can't fight?!"

Harry let out a groan. "Do you honestly think the battle's gonna just be with Ron and Hermione and me?" He fell onto the corner of Ron's bed. "We're all in the middle of a war, and there's always gonna be a battle that has to be fought. And, as much as I don't want you anywhere near it, it'll touch you no matter what. And so long as Voldemort's alive, so long as he's in power, there's little I can do to make sure you're protected—"

"I don't need your bloody protection, Harry Potter! I need to help!"

"Ginny! I need you to be safe." Harry stood up and stalked over to her. "There's no way I can do what I need to do to save the whole bloody world if you're not safe!" Harry blurted out. "This whole world wants me, expects me to save it, but I would give it all up if it meant you and your family were out of harm's way!"

He shook his head. "The closer I'm to you and to your whole family, the more dangerous it is for all of you. The Death Eaters will have you in their sights, if they don't already." Harry chanced a couple of steps toward her. "I-I . . ." He tore his eyes away from Ginny. "Ron and Hermione are of-age, and so am I—"

"Don'tforget," Ginny spat out, "that I fought with you and Ron and Hermione. You-Know-Who almost killed me! He made me hurt people," she said in a harsh and low tone. "I have seen and felt and fought things that no one should ever have! I am not some precious flower that you have to keep safe, that you have to watch to make sure its petals don't fall off or are destroyed! You can't protect me from everything—"

"But I can do my very bloody best to!" Harry thrust his face toward Ginny. "Do not think for one second that I don't believe that you're a capable witch. You are! But, right now, there's too much at stake, and for me to succeed, I need you with your parents. They need you . . . b-bec- . . . because . . ." And here, Harry's voice caught in his throat, as if his own body prevented him from saying exactly what he was about to say.

Ginny's face softened and she spoke in a low voice and gentler tone than she had used before. "Because they need to know that they can still keep one of their children safe and away from the war? Is that what you were about to say?"

He raised his eyes, so that she could see his green irises peering at her over the dark rims of his glasses. Harry huffed out a breath, the hair grazing his forehead moving along with the air, dancing just so along his lightning-bolt shaped scar.

"Something like that, Gin."

Ginny bowed her head. "The worst feeling in the world is feeling powerless . . . helpless . . . worthless." She shook her head. "That's what I felt when I was possessed by Riddle's diary. It's what I feel every day while I'm here." She looked back up and met Harry's eyes. "I can't help it. And it doesn't matter how many people tell me I can't fight, I can't do this and I can't do that . . . it hurts me. I see my father and my brothers all going out to fight, and I'm the one left behind." She raised one eyebrow to Harry. "I know you know what that feels like."

"That's not fair, Ginny—"

Ginny shrugged. "Then it's not fair. But it's how I feel, and I can't stop feeling like this, and the only way it's going to stop is if you let me fight."

Harry and Ginny looked at each other, the silence thick with unspoken thoughts and frustration with this interminable stalemate.

Ginny's snort broke the quiet air. "Doesn't change anything, does it?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm still going to do what I need to do. Ron and Hermione are of age, and you've got to follow what your family asks you to do. You're still not of age yet, Ginny. And . . ." Harry swallowed, "and if you were to come with us, there's no doubt you would be a target to get to me. Hands down."

Ginny gave a little shake of her head, as if trying to brush off the inevitable conclusion of their conversation. "I suppose I can't even ask you when you expect to set off, can I?"

"Not a chance."

Letting out a deep breath, Ginny slowly moved toward the door to Ron's bedroom. She stopped, just as her hand reached out for the doorknob. "I still do, Harry." Ginny looked back over her shoulder, meeting Harry's eyes yet again. "You know that right?"

Without waiting for an answer or a gesture from him, Ginny opened the door and walked away.