The Things We Do When We're Alone

Chapter II

A/N: Not going to rewrite everything in Chapter one, just check there for disclaimer and all that jazz….

Last Time: As he lay alone in his bed, knowing sleep will not come, he thinks. He thinks about the war, about his own self-awareness, about the people who needed to fight, and about how he has never before, felt quite so alone in the world.

Now:

Seamus is not the only person who feels alone tonight. For far away, over the rolling hills of the Scottish countryside, and the twisting green, dark in the night, plains of the Irish villages, all the way to a small house in Whales, Ginny Weasley sits on her bed, too shocked to cry.

She is home for the Holidays; all of her family is except for Ron and Percy. It's unspoken, but the way her parents walk around the house like zombies, and the way Bill and Charlie keep her up at night with their frantic whispering, it is because they are all afraid that this will be the last Weasley Christmas together.

But for now she is not thinking about that. For now she is sitting on her bed in shorts and her light beige bra. She knows that it is winter, and yet, she cannot feel the sting of the cold air, which seeps through the cracks in her floor. For now, she is only feeling the sting of her own mistakes.

Her hand rests on her stomach, gently, caringly. She is but sixteen, not an adult, not even pretending to be an adult. She does not know who to tell, her mother will not understand, her brothers will kill the poor bastard who caused this mess; Hermione is with her brother and Harry. Harry, dear god what was she going to do about him? But even the Boy-Who-Lived, is not as important as the trouble she's in right now.

Ginny wants to cry, wants to cry more then anything else in the world right now. But she cannot. The nagging guilt in the back of her mind, with a voice too much like her own mother's, is telling her that this is all her own fault, and thus, does not deserve to cry. The voice is right.

She goes to her nightstand and with slow, trembling fingers, pulls a paper from the drawer. Her quill is unsteady in her hand as she writes,

Dear Luna,

I hope your vacation is going well, I'm sorry to worry you, but I'm in trouble. Is there anyway that you could visit for a day or so? I feel very alone right now and I miss you. Please let me know soon.

Your friend,

Ginny Weasley

She folds the parchment and creases it, then stamps the letter G on the envelope and searches for Pig, whom she knows Ron left behind. Although Luna is not the first choice of whom she would go to, she has been growing closer to the girl over the year and feels as though she'll be one of the one people not to judge her. If Hermione were here, she would do wonders with logical solutions, but Luna, Ginny knows, will offer her the emotional support she needs right now.

Ginny tosses a large t-shirt over herself and leaves her room. She is hungry, she hasn't eaten anything since last night's dinner, and she knows that it is most important she listen to her body. She runs into her mother on the stairs.

"Ginny dear." She says smiling, though it quite clear from her voice that she is in charge, "Put on some clothes, you're going to catch your absolute death if you wander around the house wearing nothing at all. What would your father think if her saw you dressed like that?" She waves her wand and quickly turns Ginny's outfit into a suitable jumper and pajama bottoms.

"There now," She says. "You know you must take care of yourself, we can't afford for you to be getting sick, now can we?" And she bustles off, quite pleased that she has done her matronly duty of the hour.

"Mum?" Ginny calls up the stairs to her. "I invited Luna over for the rest of vacation, is that okay?" Her mother nods.

"Of course dear" She replies, "That girl keeps you out of trouble." And as soon as her mother leaves her sight, Ginny can feel her stomach drop with guilt and consuming fear.

She slowly treads into the kitchen. Though her body has yet to feel the effects of her bad decision making, her mind is most certainly being taxed. Sitting on the stool she eats her crackers, tasteless, no salt. She is affording herself no luxury except survival and it is clear that if Luna does not come, she will quickly waste away.

She receives a letter before dawn the next morning. It has taken many hours for sleep to finally come, and when it does, there is no deep relaxation about it. It is almost as though she is sleeping with her eyes open. The sound of Luna's owl, Sol, knocking on her window, is more then enough to rouse her from her fitful, pitiful nap. She stumbles toward the bird and quickly unwraps the letter from its leg, tossing it a treat from the desk before it flies off.

Ginny unrolls the letter, her heart is pounding and she is afraid that Luna will say no.

Dear Ginny

If you say you are in trouble or need my help, I am willing to drop everything to come to your side, especially in times of war. I will floo over by noon, no later. You must be prepared to tell me everything, or I will be of no help. Can you prepare yourself to tell me the whole story? I will stay as long as I must, it'll be nice to get away, the Nargles are getting quite nippy around here.

With love and much worry,

Luna L. Lovegood

For a moment, Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. She would no longer be totally alone in her worry; she had someone who would care unconditionally. But then she paused. She didn't really want Luna to know the whole story. It was not something she was particularly ashamed of, she just didn't want to remember it, and the stupid mistakes she had made that night, all over again.