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Ginny didn’t expect her break-up with Harry to be this difficult on her. She cares for him, immensely so, which doesn’t make it easier but at least reassures her that she did the right thing. They just fought a war, and while Harry suffered things Ginny can never comprehend, she isn’t unaffected either. She doesn’t want the burden of a relationship on top of this; dealing with the memories and the lingering fear, seeing the same reflected in everyone else - it’s too much.
Ginny knows she should find comfort in Harry, and she wishes she would, for both their sakes, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t know how to help him, doesn’t know how he can help her and she doesn’t think either of them is happy with what they had. Breaking up was the only thing she could do. Harry understood, said that he wanted to give her what she needs and that he only wants for her to be happy, but he looked gutted.
Ginny shivers in the cold wind, pulling her coat closer and cursing herself for not bringing something warmer. With the way she run out of the common room though, it’s a wonder she even thought to bring this. But she needed to get out of there, couldn’t stand the look in Harry’s eyes and the brave facade, the voice in her head screeching that she is selfish and abandoning him, that she is being cruel. So Ginny ran away, because how is she supposed to fight the voice when it’s in her mind? At least up here, looking over the empty Quidditch field and freezing in the brutal cold, the voice is muted.
But it’s also incredibly lonely up here, and being lonely is the last thing Ginny wants to be right now. Coming here was instinct, she didn’t even think about it, but that has probably more to do with Luna than the place itself. They used to sit here together, their work spread out on the bench, writing essays just as often as ignoring them in favour of talking, Ginny with Luna’s head in her lap and playing with her soft hair while she interprets the clouds for them. That is what Ginny was seeking, Luna’s quiet comfort and strength, someone to hold and shelter her while she sorts this out. But Luna isn’t here. And without Luna here, this place is nothing but a hard bench under her and a cold she will most certainly catch if she stays.
Intend on leaving, Ginny is suddenly stopped by the warmth settling down around her. And then Luna is here, not saying a word as she presses a steaming mug into her hand, leaning against her. Ginny long since learnt not to question Luna, to embrace her quirks and cherish the odd little things she says. She doesn’t know how Luna knew to come here, if she simply knows Ginny better than she knows herself and could predict that she would escape here, or if she felt how desperately Ginny wished for her, but it doesn’t matter in the end. What does matter is that Luna is here, that she is present without being invasive and that she brought her cocoa with little marshmallows arranged into a smile.
It’s so very Luna, so thoughtful and lovely and heart-warming, and Ginny doesn’t stop to think before dropping a quick kiss onto her head. Luna doesn’t react beyond snuggling closer, tightening the blanket around them, and Ginny pulls her even closer still with an arm around her waist.
And just like that, things look better already. With Luna at her side, Ginny is confident she will get through this, that she made the right decision. With Luna at her side, she can do anything.