I'm not as think as you drunk I am.

Oh god Harry,

You don't know how awful I feel. I could just pin you to the wall and snog the daylights out of you if I thought it would help. I know Hermione told you I was over you and I was. I am! But I love you and I can't get you out of my mind. You don't deserve this. If there's anyone else in the world who deserves a normal life more then you do, I don't know who it is.

I've tried to be strong, I've tried to be impartial. I've tried being brave and aloof. But I love you Harry, with my heart and soul. If you don't know what I mean Harry, then this is what I mean, I'd die for you. Just as surely as Sirius did. Just as surely as your parents did. I know that means less then nothing to you right now but it's how I feel. I swore I was over you. I swore I'd never write these words to you but I love you. With my heart, with my soul, with every breath I take, you permeate my very being.

And I hate you for it. I want to be over you. I want to be over you because I know this is precisely what you don't need. I know this isn't what you need to hear. I know what you want. You want to be prefect. You want to be captain of the quidditch team. You want that elusive normal live that the rest of us have. And you'll never get it., you'll never see it, you'll never touch it. God, it must be the fire whiskey talking, I don't see how else I'd be so brave to write this to you. I snuck a bottle out of Bill's room. Hopefully he won't miss it too much. If he does, I don't care. You mean too much to me. You always have and always will.

I know you, better then I know my own family. I know mom and dad and how much they adore you and want you to be a part of the family, and you are. But you aren't. Because you don't see yourself that way, and you never will. Like I said, I know you. From the top of your unruly hair, to the toes of your size eight shoes. I know you. You're alone. You're frightened, angry, afraid, bitter, angry, resentful, scared, racked with guilt and once again, angry.

I don't know what Dumbledore told you that night, but the change in you is obvious. I know he told you something. I know he told you what it's all about. And I hate him for it. I can see it in those emerald eyes of yours. You know the truth, and you hate yourself for it. That's when you aren't busy blaming the world for it. You blame yourself for the grief in your life. I can't imagine what that's like. Loosing your parents, loosing Sirius, loosing yourself. I hate you for it because you don't know when to quit, and you don't know when to let us in. I hate you because you won't let ME in.

Damnit Harry, let me in. I want you to need me. I want you to use me as a crutch. I want you to lean on me for whatever you need. But you won't. You'll rant and rave and fume and keep it all inside and blow up at us all until it consumes you. It won't do you any good. It'll kill you. It'll kill you and you'll be dead to us forever. You'll be as dead as anything else in your world. That's what you want isn't it? To be dead? That way you can quit and not care. You can quit and be with your parents and with Sirius.

How bloody selfish is that you bastard? Have you thought to think how much some of us need you? Forget Fudge. Forget Dumbledore. Hell, forget that stupid prat of a brother that won't come home from the Ministry. They're all blind to their own little worlds. But some of us want you for yourself. And we don't care what baggage that carries. I want your baggage Harry. I want you to lean on me. So do Ron and Hermione but I don't think they grasp what I mean. Hermione is too stuck into her world of books and causes and righteousness to see what else exists in the world. And lets face it, my brother, prefect that he is, is the world's biggest prat after you.

Yes you prat, you have us all right under your nose and you don't see us for what we are. Your family. And I hate you for it. We need you just as much as you don't realize you need us. Get this strait Harry James Potter, I LOVE YOU. Yes, that's right, I said love. And if you're too dense to realize what that means, let me explain it to you. I have every feeling for you that you thought you felt for Cho. I have every feeling for you that your parents had for you, I have every feeling for you that your parents died to preserve in you. I have every feeling for you that Sirius was too stubborn and blind to tell you he felt. I have every feeling that Dumbledore is too proud to admit he has for you. I love you for your strengths. I love you for not giving in to those horrible people you spend your summers with. I love you for being such a wonderful human being that you refuse to give in and quit, despite all the garbage the universe heaps on you. I love you for looking to be normal in the face of every Herculean adversity the Wizarding world throws in your face. I love you for punching Malfoy dead in the nose and sending him strait to the hospital wing. I LOVE YOU!!!!!

You are stuck with me Harry. For now, forever and ever until the end of time. You have no choice but to accept that there's at least one person in this world who loves you for who you are and isn't afraid to say it. There's someone in this world who loves you for being wonderful at Transfiguration but who doesn't stand a snowball's chance in Azkaban of passing Potions. There's someone who looks at you and can actually see past that rugged scar on your forehead.

My god, the bottle of fire whiskey is half empty. I'd best get on with things if I'm going to get around to convincing you to love me. Because you don't have a choice Harry. I'm not letting you have one. Hermione and Ron are your friends, but they see Harry, the boy who lived. The boy who survived. They don't see Harry, the boy who needs to love. Let me in Harry. You know you need it. You know you want me to make this offer to you. You know you want to let me in.

You know I'm the one person who knows what it's like to feel tortured. You know what it's like, to have him run your life, to be inside you and you can't do anything to stop it. Not even to scream. I don't remember being possessed, but I remember every moment of torture Tom Riddle put me through. I hate him for it, but I've come to accept it. It doesn't do any good to hold onto your anger Harry. It will eat you up inside. I know. It almost ate me up before I learned to let go.

I'm willing to take what you give me. Let it out on me. Your anger, your rage, your fears, your torments of frustrations for the universe being so unfair. It is. We both know it.

I wonder sometimes, if we would have known each other if things had turned out differently. Would you have seen me for who you want to see before now? Would you have let me in and not run after me because I had been a weakling? Would you have been blindsided by lust and illusions? Probably. I think we both needed last year. I'm still seething though. Despite the fact I found someone who wanted after me for me. Even though he wasn't you, he was sweet, at least until he turned into a jerk. Don't be a jerk Harry. Don't be one. Don't be petty for something in the past. Don't be hold a grudge for the past.

Oh god, I'm rambling so badly here. Help me Harry! I don't know what else to say to you and I need to tell this to you. Help me get it out Harry. Help me Harry. I need to help you. Why won't you help me Harry? You know you want to.

Oh no. Bill's home. I'll be right back I need to hide this bottle.

Hi I'm back, I hid the bottle, but I think Bill knows something. He stuck his head in the door and asked me how I was doing. I told him I wasn't as drunk as I looked and didn't know anything. He just nodded and closed the door behind me. I think I hear Mum talking downstairs. I wish we had a screaming portrait so it could distract Mum from screaming at me. I'm going to enchant my quill so you can read what she says. It should be fun don't you think?

Ginny Weasley, what have you gotten yourself up to? Your brother told me you've been drinking?

Drinking what mum?

Don't give me any of your brother's lip young lady. He's already checked his room. He says he's missing a bottle of fire whiskey.

I don't know anything about that mum, I've just been writing a letter to Harry.

Oh why didn't you say so dear? Why don't you let me see what you've written?

Oh no mum I couldn't. It's...

It's what dear?

It's um...private?

What do you mean private dear? I thought you and Dean were...

Dean? Dean who?

Why Dean Thomas, at least that's what Ron said.

Ron is a prat.

Ginny!

Well he is. I just said that to shut him up. What business does he have nosing in to my affairs. It's not like he ever cared to begin with.

Ginny Weasley!

Well it's true! He ignored me all of first year. Hardly paid any attention to me second year. Got indignant when I wouldn't go to the Yule Ball with Harry in third year and was surprised I had a boyfriend last year. So who's he to nosing in to my business. Or can he tell me he knows what's best for me when he can't set his own affairs in order.

Ginny...

Well it's true. He's too thick to notice Hermione and she's right under his nose.

Well that's certainly true dear, but he is your brother and he does have a right to be concerned.

I know mum, but I'm fine. I know it, you know it and Ron knows it.

Yes but there's not much we can do about Harry now is there? Not until Dumbledore gives us the all clear.

Dumbledore? Ha! He cares so much for Harry he keeps sending Harry back there year in and year out. Doesn't tell him a thing about anything that's going on even though Harry's always the one who has to fight Voldemort.

Ginny there are certain...

Don't tell me there are things I don't need to know. Don't tell me I'm too young mother. I was there when Sirius died, just like Harry. I've come face to face with Voldemort. Have you? Has Dad? Has anyone else here done that? I may not have a right to know everything but Harry certainly does. And I undoubtedly have a right to care about Harry.

Very well Ginny. I'll discuss this with your father when he returns home from work. Until then I'll ask that you stay here in your room and not send any letters to anyone until we've discussed things.

Alright mother, if you insist.

I do. Now why don't you go unenchant that quill and get back to writing to Harry about more pleasant things. I'll bring you a spot of tea in a bit; I dare say you'll need it before you go to sleep.

Ugh, I love my mother Harry, really I do, but sometimes she can be really overbearing. I can't believe she caught on to the quill. Then again, it was right on my desk and I didn't do that good a job of hiding it. Ha! She probably thinks she's being cunning in not saying anything until the end. Probably thinks she's fixing us up or something. She keeps dropping hints on Bill that he should invite Fleur over for dinner some evening.

He isn't rising to the bait. And yes, as I read back over my conversation with Mum, the king of the prats is pining away for your best friend and I don't even think he fully comprehends it. You and I have never hidden our feelings Harry. I've never hidden myself from you and you never hid yourself from Cho. Fat lot of good it's done the two of us. She kept getting hysterical on you and here I am writing you this alcohol induced treatise on dealing with your feelings. Isn't that rich? Me telling you what to do with your feelings when I can't even properly cope with my own?

I should pour this fire whiskey down the drain, it won't do me any good. Or maybe not. I'm sobering up now, I can feel it. I think it's time again for a little bit more, where did I hide it? Ah, here it is. I've put the spell back on the quill now. That way I can talk and drink at the same time. I know it's reckless but do I care? You'll probably like me like this? Wouldn't you Harry? You like to take risks. You like death defying feats guaranteed to wind people up so they're waiting line to ring your neck if you survive don't you? Selfish bastard! I hate you. I hate you! Yes, you Harry James Potter. How dare you do this? Running around nearly getting yourself killed? I should wipe my hands of you. You aren't worth the effort anymore. You aren't worth the tears I cry myself to sleep with. You aren't worth my mother staring out into space as she cooks breakfast in the kitchen. You aren't worth any of it. Every year it's the same. Woe is Harry Potter for the miserable stinking life he's forced to endure. And every year we all go out of our way to bring you into our lives and what do you do? You piss it away. You run headlong into danger, damned to the conseq...consequ...consequences. Damn you Harry for making my life miserable. I hate you. Bastard.

Rot in hell Harry. Rot in hell and know that I'll love you forever.

Ginny Weasley

Ginny Weasley removed the Quick Quotes spell she had cast on her quill, blew out the candle that had illuminated her room and proceeded to lay down for what would turn out to be a turbulent night's sleep. In the morning she reread the letter she had a vague recollection of writing and proceeded to make two copies of it. She placed the original in an envelope, addressed it and sent it off to it's recipient courtesy of the family owl. She then gave one copy to her mother and the other to her eldest brother. When Bill asked her what it was, she simply replied it was a product of his unwitting generosity in the beverage department before she proceeded back to her room to wait and see how many layers of hell she had unleashed upon herself and prayed they'd distract her from her hangover.