[That comment cuts her sharp and deep, regardless of if he meant it to or not. The rational part of Ginny tells her that he couldn't possibly know the details of her war, how fragile her family's lives are at this point, how she knows her family's happiness is fleeting because they'll lose one of their own soon. No. She won't always have them, not the way she wants them. But it's something she'd rather not think about at all.

Her smile crumples in an instant, the colour on her cheeks deepening in a flush that only speaks of irritation. The other half of her doesn't care that he doesn't know. Her right hand reaches up to snatch her wand from her hair, but the moment it's resting in her palm, she realises what she's doing and shoves it back into her belt, playing off the reflexive movement as if she'd meant to undo her hair all along.

Overreacting. That's what you're doing, Weasley. She shoves her loose hair behind her ears and releases a breath, and all this takes place in the span of maybe ten seconds. It's remarkable how much control she has over her temper nowadays―that wasn't at all the case when she first arrived in the City. Now, in a voice as even as she can manage it,]

You don't know my family. We've gone through a load of shite together and we're still together. I know that isn't always the case. I'm just speaking from experience, Will.

[Pause. Then in a cooler tone,]

Though I'm sorry you feel that way. It must be awful going through life with that sort of perspective.