[That's something she does regret. She's liked being known as simply Ginny Weasley, nothing like the war attached to her name or her history. The City has given her that, the closest thing to a normal life she's ever had, curses aside. So if she knew, she'd be glad to miss the look on his face because that's just another impression shattered—she isn't ashamed of who she is, what's happened in her world, why she fought for it all, but to be more than just an English witch is a bit of a loss, in its own way.

Ginny smiles briefly, crosses the room to him and sits next to him on the small sofa, reaching out with her free hand to feel over his shoulder with the familiarity of someone who's had the same sort of problem.]

I never trained, I was just thrown into it. I suppose between the two of us is the way it should be—though I don't think there ever should be a should when it comes to fighting. [Causes are all very well and good but peacetime is what they all want, isn't it?] If you aren't careful, you're going to pull this. [Speaking now about his shoulder, kneading her fingertips into the tight muscle there.] And it won't matter how fancy you can get with your sword.