Ginny turned instantly at the sound of the knock, knowing exactly who it was. Setting the glass down on the counter (she'd barely drank any of it anyway), she padded through the kitchen on slipper-covered feat and down the hallway to the front door. Pulling it open slowly at first, Ginny drew in a quick breath as she caught sight of Harry and then a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. He looked good, in the way he always looked good to her, but he also looked... exhausted and fragile and a bit lost. He looked like, maybe, he needed her.
"Hey," she said softly. "Come in. Welcome to... well it doesn't really have a name, not like the Burrow or anything. Just my flat."