Percy walked into the room and Ginny abruptly pulled away from Hermione, accepted the cup of tea that was pushed into her hand. She could practically feel the tears dry on her face, could feel the way her shoulders stiffened and her expression settled into something that was not quite grief-stricken.
"Thanks, Perce." She blew the steam off the top of the cup. "I'll skip the potion. No reason to drug myself into feeling better."
She was being a prat. She could be kinder, she knew it, but snarkiness was easier to deal with. Snark she could do. Grief? Pain? Better to drown that in a cup of tea behind a mask of uncommitted blankness.