Something had cracked in her that day, too, bleeding into the caverns of her ribcage ever since. So Ginny does the only thing she knows how to do. She fights. She fights desperately, hopelessly, against reason, against hope. Urges Neville to hide, does his errands when it becomes clear that he should not leave the room anymore. Her heritage protects her, and that knowledge makes her sick. It all makes her sick. The only way she can find to go on is to attempt to take even a single one of them down with her.