The kitchen door slammed behind Harry's retreating figure. Ginny stood frozen by the sink, her hands gripping the counter's edge, before turning to face her brother. The warm, familiar kitchen of the Burrow suddenly felt stifling.
"Well done, Ron," she said quietly, her voice carrying over the ticking of their family clock. "Really stellar timing there."
Ron's ears turned red as he shifted uncomfortably by the kitchen table. "I was just—"
"Just what? Making sure your little sister stays safe?" Ginny released the counter, taking a step closer. "He's your best friend, Ron. Did you ever think that maybe that's exactly why you should trust him with me?"
"That's different—" Ron started, but Ginny cut him off.
"Different how? Because I'm your sister? Because you think I need protecting?" Her voice grew sharper, echoing off the worn wooden walls. "I've been looking out for myself since I was eleven."
The color drained from Ron's face. Through the window behind him, Ginny could see Harry's distant figure on his broom, growing smaller against the summer sky.
"Have you even looked at him properly since he arrived?" She gestured toward the window. "Really looked? His clothes are hanging off him, Ron. Mum nearly cried when she hugged him yesterday - she could feel every rib. I've been watching him at meals - he barely eats, pushes the food around his plate like he's forgotten how to be hungry."
Ron's defensive posture faltered as his eyes followed hers to the plate. "I... I know he's been having a rough time—"
Through the window behind him, Ginny could see Harry's distant figure on his broom, a dark shape against the pale dawn sky.
"I heard him screaming my name in his sleep, Ron." Her voice softened, though the intensity remained. "I came down here to wait for him because I knew - I knew - he'd try to handle it alone. He looked terrified when he realized it wasn't Mum who was in here, tried to bolt..." She paused, the memory of how close they'd been just moments ago making her heart race. "And when he finally stopped running, when we finally had a moment that might have proved to him I'm here and alive and safe - you..." She stopped, hands clenched at her sides. "It's not about you protecting me. It's about all of us protecting him. Even from himself."
Through the window, Harry was now just a speck against the lightening sky. Ginny felt the fight drain out of her, leaving behind an aching hollowness.
"Just... just leave it, Ron," she said quietly, cutting off whatever response he'd been about to make. She brushed past him, ignoring the way he reached out hesitantly, and headed for the stairs.
Each creaking step seemed to mock the heaviness in her chest. By the time she reached her bedroom door, she was blinking back tears she refused to let fall. She pushed the door open slowly, trying not to wake—
"Ginny?" Hermione was already sitting up in her camp bed, hair wild from sleep, eyes alert with concern. Of course she'd heard Harry's nightmare. Of course she was awake.
Ginny closed the door behind her and leaned against it, finally letting out a shaky breath. "I almost kissed him," she whispered. "He was so close, Hermione. His hands were shaking, and he looked at me like... like I was something real he could hold onto. And then Ron..."
"Let me guess," Hermione said, a wry smile playing at her lips, "he burst in with all the timing and grace of a mountain troll in a china shop?"
A startled laugh escaped Ginny despite herself. She crossed the room and sank onto her bed. "Sometimes I wonder how you can fancy my idiot brother."
"Well," Hermione's eyes softened, "he means well. Even if he does have the emotional range of a teaspoon." She paused, tucking her legs under her. "Want to tell me what happened? All of it?"
Ginny pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. "I heard him screaming my name during the nightmare. I just... I couldn't bear the thought of him wandering around alone again, so I waited in the kitchen." She smiled faintly. "You should have seen his face when he realized it was me and not Mum. He tried to bolt, of course."
"Of course he did," Hermione said softly. "He's been avoiding everyone since he got here."
"That's what I told him." Ginny's voice grew quieter. "We talked about the nightmare. About... about me dying. He looked so scared, Hermione. Like he thought I might disappear if he blinked." She pressed her forehead against her knees. "And then something changed. The way he looked at me... it was like he finally saw something beyond his grief. Something real. We were so close, and then—"
"And then Ron happened," Hermione finished gently.
"And then Ron happened," Ginny echoed, raising her head. "And Harry... he just fled. Again."
Hermione was quiet for a moment, her expression thoughtful. "You know, after Sirius..." she paused, choosing her words carefully. "Harry's greatest fear has always been losing the people he loves. But now it's not just fear anymore - it's something he's lived through. And with your nightmare..."
"But I'm right here," Ginny whispered. "I'm safe."
"I know," Hermione leaned forward, her voice gentle but firm. "But Harry... he's spent his whole life having people ripped away from him. His parents, Sirius, even Cedric. And now he's having nightmares about losing you too." She twisted a strand of her wild hair absently. "When he let himself get close to you just now, it probably terrified him. Not because he doesn't want to, but because wanting to feels dangerous to him."
"So he flies away instead," Ginny said, a hint of bitterness in her voice.
"He flies away because it's the one place he's always felt safe," Hermione responded softly. "But Ginny... he almost kissed you. After weeks of avoiding everyone, after a nightmare about losing you, he almost let himself have that moment. That's... that's huge for Harry."