Clarity

Sometimes he wondered why he'd started to care about Ginny, whether it really was because he needed a substitute for Ron and she was the nearest Weasley. Or maybe it was because he was so unhappy in general, so lonely, and he thought he could see it in her eyes.

Her eyes were like Ron's sometimes. When she was mad, her eyes were likely to flash, just like her brother's. Her ears went red like his too. Sometimes her cheeks did too, but not as often as Ron's used to. She was that bit paler too - not as freckly except for on her nose.

All Harry knew was that she went from being a nobody in his life, to being somebody. Somebody he cared about.

She sometimes seemed so much like Ron. She had the same temper. Harry had seen her screaming at Colin Creevy about his "stupid, interfering, noisy camera!" just last week.

She also got on to Hermione for studying too much. "Bloody hell, Hermione," she'd say, "what's the use in wasting away all this time on books for?" She cared much more for Quidditch than books.

She also held the same self-depreciating nature her brother held. It was probably form being the youngest in such a big family. She seemed to latch on to the fact of being a girl as her only unique characteristic.

And be a girl she did. Harry had never seen her with a hair out of place. She always looked amazing and she took care of herself. But she didn't see it. Hermione was always scowling about it - Ginny just did see how pretty she really was.

And Harry could see more than Ron in Ginny then. He knew then that, although her eyes were like Ron's sometimes, they weren't identical. Ginny had a quiet wisdom in hers that Ron could never have had. Also, in some lights, Ginny's eyes held a flash of green. Hers were also surrounded by thick dark lashes.

Ginny didn't shout, she screamed and her voice could carry further than Ron's ever could. But, when Ginny was really, really, really mad, she got quiet, and that was almost worse. Almost.

And, despite her hate for studying, she always did it, completely unlike Ron, and she always passed her exams with above average marks. Although she did insist, it was only to keep Hermione off her back.

He loved the little quirks he discovered about Ginny. He found she was rather odder than he'd originally thought.

She drew. She drew black and white sketches. He'd never seen her colour any of them in though. She drew sketches and they were always of people. People in all ranges of emotions. Harry had blackmailed Lavender (he'd tell Pavarti what she and Seamus had been saying about her) into stealing Ginny's notepad for him.

He'd been shocked when he'd seen her drawing of herself. Was that really how she viewed herself? Small, weak and plain? So undynamic and unbeautiful?

She'd drawn Ron many, many times. He'd looked at each drawing deeply. They were so real-life, it was like looking his best friend in the face again.

There was only one drawing of him and his expression had been so sad, but determined. So, he knew she saw him for what he really was, saw his pain behind the façade. His scar hadn't been on his forehead, as if she didn't see him as The-Boy-Who-Lived anymore, but as Harry.

But what he found most fascinating about her was her strength. She was unhappy, he could see it, but she hid it so well. She lived her life everyday and she didn't fall to pieces. Even the fact that she'd lost two of her brothers and her father hadn't stopped her. She still laughed with her friends and smiled at the boys and played Quidditch for her team and screamed about cameras and sat by the fire with the rest of them.

She'd been through so much, what with her experience with Tom Riddle, been treated like an outcast by the rest of the school because of it, the thing with Percy, her dad being attacked, her own deep insecurities, and now dealing with the grief her and her family were going through.

How could she see herself as weak? She was the strongest person he'd ever met.

He didn't see her as Ron, or as Ron's little sister anymore. He saw her as Ginerva Weasley.

And he was here at the Common Room door, where he knew she was drawing alone, as she did most nights, to tell her that he saw her. That despite all the pain, he was here for her. That she didn't have to hide it anymore. That they could help each other through it, just as Ron would have wanted.

In his hand, he held his sketch of her. He'd been working on his technique for so long now - it took his mind off of Ron's death and the new unwanted celebrity he'd gained from defeating Voldemort. His sketch showed her as he saw her, as she really was. His technique wasn't anything as good as hers but he felt he'd get his point across.

He was here to show her that she was beautiful, inside and out.

He was here to show her that, despite whatever faults she thought she had, he still loved her.