Hours pass and they don't return. Days pass and still she is left behind. It's not that she didn't expect it- she did, was prepared for it, even. But she had expected to be able to say
good-bye to them, to tell them how much she'll miss them, and try to make them promise to try their best to come back safe. She hadn't even had a chance to dance with Harry at the wedding reception, although his eyes had been on her almost the whole evening. But they all left so suddenly, among the screaming and terror there was the sight of the three of them disappearing into the void with a pop that was lost in the rest of the disaster.

Her dad says he knows where they are, but he won't tell her. The only thing he tells her and her mother is that all three are safe. It must be somewhere that she could visit if she wanted to (she suspects Grimmuald Place), but she doesn't try her mum, who is fretting worse than ever. The clock that has been her constant companion since the beginning of the war never leaves her side, but worse is when Ginny finds her mum crying over pictures of Ron, as if he is already dead.

Her remaining brothers try to cheer her up, and she pretends, because they want her to be happy, and what else can she do? She must be a good liar, because no one seems to notice how much pain she is in. She hasn't told any of her family about Harry or the fact that she's in love with him. Her mum seems to have guessed (there is a picture of the two of them sitting on her nightstand) but she doesn't ask questions. Neville and Luna, both of whom know how much Harry and Ron and Hermione mean to her, are the only ones who seem to realize how much she is hurting. They know because they saw her crying out on the Quidditch pitch one night, after the first and last practice of sixth year.

It had been the sheer routine of Quidditch practice that finally got to her. The last time she had been on a broom the team had won the Cup, and she had gone back to the common room, only to be finally kissed by Harry. Before that, she was laughing with him and Ron, making fun of them at every practice, mocking McLaggen and stealing glances at Harry when he was busy looking for the Snitch. She would go back to the warm and welcoming common room to be greeted by a studious Hermione, waiting to discuss why Harry had received yet another bludger hit in practice that day. But now she is captain, not Harry, and the team has a new Chaser, Keeper and Seeker, and although she hadn't ever really expected to miss Ron on the pitch, she does. She misses Hermione cheering in the stands, even if her friend had never really understood the game like Ron and Harry had. And most of all, she misses Harry.

He's not there to listen to her about her problems, no matter how trivial they are; he's not there to laugh with; he's not there to explain the lesson in DADA, usually littered with his own experiences with the dark arts; he's not there to sneak out with her during Ron and Hermione's prefect patrols to snog in a dark, private corner of the castle. There are so many aspects to him being gone, and even the friendships she does have here, namely Neville and Luna, can't fill that void completely. They are not the constant trio that has been a part of her life ever since the beginning of Hogwarts.

Like the absence of Dumbledore, no one ever mentions the hole they have left, yet it is a gaping in the hearts of the students here. She notices that only the first year students will work at the worktable that has always been Hermione's domain; they are the only ones who don't expect her to come in from the library any moment, carting her books and papers. The armchairs by the fire are only reluctantly filled, although Ginny takes comfort sitting there, remembering happier, pleasant times, times spent joking about Hungarian Horntails and Pygmy Puffs. Everyone notices the absence, and thinks and worries, but no one says anything, afraid to be the first one to admit to fear.

As Ginny sits there, staring out at the pitch that she has been kicked off of by the Carrows, the force of the absence and fear and anger and shock and sorrow overwhelms her completely and for the first time since they left, she cries. Sobs, really. And while at first she feels embarrassed and weak, as the tears continue, she realizes she needs them, if only to ease the pain of living without Hermione and Ron and Harry.

With a grim determination, she squares her shoulders, wipes her eyes, and marches into dinner. That is the night when she recalls the DA with Neville and Luna, the night when she determines she will do her small part for the school, for Dumbledore, for the Order, for the Trio, for her friends, for her family, for her future, and for Harry. Most of all, for Harry.

An idea begins to form, along with a smile.