[The recognition that flashes across her face does suggest she remembers very well. They spoke of his father, mostly, of closure, and suddenly it all comes together the way it didn't a few months ago. Ginny smiles a little, apologetic and warm.]

That means a lot.

[And it does. Ginny's quiet for a few moments as she processes what he's said, debates on how much she could trust herself to say, and she circles back to her first year and the diary again. She gets as far as taking the breath to admit to it, to at least offer some sort of understanding so it doesn't feel like she's being unreasonable, but she can't bring herself to actually say it. She isn't sure she'll ever openly talk about it. Instead, what comes out of her mouth is second best: ]

It isn't easy, having something reach in and play. It's wrong and the City does it all the time and I'm sorry it's happened to you before because no one deserves that. Believe me when I say I get it.