It simply was not fair. That had always been her lament when she was little, whenever her brothers had gotten something brand new, a rarity in her mammoth sized family. And as always her Mum would smooth her fiery hair, kiss her freckled forehead and tell her as gently as possible that life was not always fair. And of course she was right, life was not fair. Life snatched people, snatched the breath right out of them for no reason. Ginny shook her head as fat tears threatened to pave paths down her pale cheeks. Down in the Great Hall they were celebrating the death of a horrid monster, but they were also mourning the heroes that had fallen. She bit her lip as she pictured Professor Lupin and Tonks, lying peacefully on the flagstones side by side. Tonks had never been that still in life, ever. Her hair was never the mousy brown it was now; it was always vibrant, always changing. A sob broke the silence as she remembered that there was another that would never again laugh, another that was lying in the Great Hall so peacefully still, when peaceful was never a word that was used to describe him and his now lonesome twin. She could not go back down there and face her family, her friends when she was a bloody mess. It was much safer in the lofty astronomy tower, watching the early morning sun rays shine over the war torn grounds. Eventually, she would have to go back, but only when she could put her brave façade back in place, because Ginny Weasley hated to be weak. "Ginny?" Ginny froze as a voice she knew to well echoed off of the walls. She turned around to face Harry, in all his haggard glory. He was as skinny as the eleven year old boy she used to know, the skin on his face taught across his cheek bones. His hair was ruffled and messy, his usually sparkling eyes dim and distant. His clothes were tattered and grubby but yet he had never looked more perfect. "Your mum is worried sick; she sent me and Ron off to find you…. But him and 'Mione must have found better things to do." He finished with a half hearted weary grin, smiling at a memory she did not know. "Are you alright?" He asked, carefully coming closer. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" She replied timidly, her voice softer and weaker than she would have liked it. Harry shook his head. "I'm fine, never better." He lied. "You're lying." Ginny whispered. "It's not me you should be worried about Gin." He said softly and Ginny knew what he meant. "He went laughing, I always reckoned he would." She breathed, tears pricking her eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt, I wanted it to just be him and me." Harry apologized, his eyes boring holed into the floor. Ginny shook her head and moved to lift his chin up, to look into his fascinating eyes. "It's not your fault Harry, if you need to blame anyone blame the man, no the monster who started all this." She pleaded as tears ran down her face. She cried for Fred, she cried for her broken family, she cried for the man in front of her whose whole existence revolved around a man who was now dead, and lastly she cried selfishly for herself. Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her closer, burying his face into her hair, and she cried into his shirt, soaking it with salty tears. Her heart wrenched as she realized her hair was damp and Harry's frame was shaking with silent sobs and she held him closer, and thanked God he was all right, and with her. It was then that she decided that even though life was not fair and imperfect, that sometimes it could be alright.

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