Beauty From Pain by BeautyInTheBreakdown
Summary: Ginny mourns the death of Harry by looking back to her past, thinking on memory. Character death Post HBP H/G
Categories: Harry/Ginny Characters: None
Warnings: Character Death, Violence
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 4741 Read: 1972 Published: 08/08/06 Updated: 08/17/06
Living a Memory by BeautyInTheBreakdown
Author's Notes:
Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. If I was, I wouldn’t have to write this. The song, Beauty From Pain is by Superchick and I don’t own that either.
The lights go out all around me
One last candle to keep out the night
And then the darkness surrounds me
I know I’m alive but I feel like I’ve died


It was a warm evening in the middle of the summer and I had never been colder in my life. I felt so cold that I was surprised my tears hadn’t frozen to my cheeks. The stone beneath me caused a chill throughout my body, but I didn’t move to warm myself. I had been laying there for what must have been hours. Moving just didn’t seem important anymore. Harry had failed. He wasn’t supposed to have failed. True, Voldemort was gone, but so was Harry.

The funeral ended hours ago, but I never left. I knelt down beside his large, stone tomb and cried. I don’t even know how I ended up laying on top of it, but I was there now and had been laying there for a while. In the week since Harry’s death, I had been living in a stupor. I feel nothing other than hurt; all other senses blinded in my sorrow.

As I laid there on top of Harry’s tomb, I thought I could feel Harry’s heart beating beneath me, but I was kidding myself. The beating I felt was from my own heart, but there was a time where I thought our hearts were one. If they had been at one point, why had Harry’s stopped while mine continues its slow painful beats? All I could do was think about what had happened, for the time I had with Harry was so short, it seemed like a single grain of sand from an hourglass. Falling for only a second and then it’s left in the past.

And all that’s left is to accept that it’s over
My dreams ran like sand through the fists that I made
I try to keep warm but I just grow colder
I feel like I’m slipping away


Every moment I spent with Harry was perfect. But there was one night which stuck out in my mind.

I was in the middle of writing a letter to Hermione when Hedwig came rushing through the window. She landed on my kitchen table and urgently pecked at my finger. I quickly grabbed the letter she was carrying and read it through. It had barely three sentences written on it. ‘Ginny, come quickly. Meet me in the field behind your house. I have something to show you.’

I dropped my quill and dashed out of the door. Though the field was behind my house, it wasn’t close. I couldn’t think of anything else but what had happened. I dreaded the thought that something had gone wrong, but it kept creeping into my mind. I ran for a mile until I finally reached the field. Harry was sitting on the ground at the bottom of a hill. I ran to him. When I got there, he stood up to meet me and was smiling at me.

“I’ve got to hand it to you, that was quicker than I expected,” he said, a stupid grin on his face.

“I ran the whole way,” I said. I was beginning to feel that this wasn’t the emergency I thought it would be. “What’s so important that I had to ‘come quick’?”

“I didn’t want you to miss it.” Harry grabbed my hand and started pulling me around the base of the hill.

I looked to my right and saw a blazing red sun setting between the trees. It was a wonderful sight and I would have stopped to watch had Harry not been dragging me. And then it hit me. “Harry James Potter, if you dragged me down here to see the sun set…”

His grin turned into a mischievous smirk. “Of course not…” He was lying, and it was beyond obvious. He pulled me left around the base of the hill to get a better view of the sun. I looked back towards the setting sun and it was breathtaking. The hill had been blocking a small lake from view and the reflection of the sun on the water was so perfect; so calm.

Harry dropped my hand and moved to stand behind me, his hands on my hips. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “Beautiful isn’t it?” I was speechless, so I just nodded. “It doesn’t hold a candle to you,” he whispered even softer, so that, had there been any noise at all, I wouldn’t have heard.

I turned my head and looked at him. He smiled at me, and suddenly, he turned and started running up the hill, leaving me behind to watch. “Hey!” I called.

Harry didn’t slow down, he only turned his head back and shouted, “Hurry up, Ginny!”

“Harry, I refuse to run again tonight!” So I slowly made my way up the hill while Harry continued to run. He reached the top miles ahead of me and disappeared over the crest of the hill. When I lost sight of him, I gave in and started running, the long grass scratching at my legs.

It only took a minute to reach the top once I had started running. Harry was near the other side of the hill standing on the rungs of a tall, wooden fence. When I reached the fence, I climbed up and sat on top. Harry climbed up and sat next to me.

I didn’t think it was possible, but from the top of the hill, the view was even more amazing. From way up there, the sight was enough to convince you that anything was possible. The hill overlooked miles and miles of open fields of long grass and summer flowers. You could see the hills and their quiet valleys; and to my right, I could still see the lake, reflecting the image to make it seem even more magical. It was enough to make me want to cry for everyone who would never see this. This secret beauty shared between just Harry and I.

“Funny I’ve never been up here before,” I said to Harry. When I looked over at him, I saw that he was deep in thought.

“How can you see this and tell me that there’s not a God?” Harry said, not taking his eyes off of the glittering sight in front of us.

I moved closer to him and leaned my head on his shoulder. “You can’t. There’s no other way to describe this beauty.”

“This must be what Heaven looks like. If this is Heaven, Ginny, then I can’t wait to go.”

“Harry…Don’t talk like that…”I said, lifting my head off his shoulder and staring him in the face.

He finally looked away from the hills in the distance and stared at me. “You can’t tell me that you weren’t thinking the same thing. I wouldn’t believe you if you did. How could you prefer our normal lives to a life in a place like this?”

I moved even closer to him and whispered in his ear, “Because I’m afraid that in any other life, you might not be in it with me.” I sat back and looked into Harry’s eyes. He gently tugged me back towards him and we kissed in the setting sun, a moment in paradise that no one else was likely to experience.


The memory brought a smile to my face through my tears. It had been so amazing that night. There was nothing more I could have ever asked from Harry. He had promised that we could go back again someday. I don’t think I ever will; not without Harry. A new pain of longing welled up inside of me. I needed to be in his arms, but this I was as close as I was ever going to get. Never again would he hold me close, keep me warm on cold nights. The sun inched closer and closer to the horizon, drawing the last bit of happiness out of me as the last dwindling light of day disappeared into the night.

After all this has passed
I still will remain
After I’ve cried my last
There’ll be beauty from pain
Though it won’t be today
Someday I’ll hope again
And there’ll be beauty from pain
You will bring beauty from my pain


I rolled over onto my back looking up into the blackening sky. There were no stars showing, for even the heavens were mourning Harry’s death. I was only nineteen. I was too young to have lost so much. Not only had I lost so much, but it was all because of one man; a sole cause for all of my torment. Not all memories are good. My mind is littered with horrible memories which I wish I could forget. They’re memories of a memory. A soul trapped in a diary, waiting to be set free.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘I need a diary,’ I thought. ‘No. I have a diary, that’s the problem.’

What I really needed was to get all of my feelings out. My life, which was so great only days ago, suddenly seems like it’s crumbling brick by brick. I couldn’t tell anyone. What would they all think of me? I knew exactly what they’d think. They’d think, ‘how could she have been so stupid?’ and I couldn’t help but think that myself. The book wasn’t mine, but I wrote in it, and it talked back. That should have told me something was up, but no, I just went in deeper.

I resolved to get my feelings down on paper. I would write a letter, a letter never to be seen by anyone but myself. I grabbed a long piece of parchment and unrolled it. Dipping my quill into the ink, I began…

Are you listening? Good, because what I need right now is for someone to listen.

I’ve screwed up. Big time. I found the journal the first night I arrived at Hogwarts, but at first, I didn’t do anything with it. I didn’t even touch it until a few weeks into the school year. I had run out of parchment and needed someplace to write down my transfiguration homework. So I jotted it down on the first page and shoved it back in my bag. I went to go get the assignment later that night and it was gone. Just out of anger, I dipped my quill in ink and wrote in large sloppy letters, “My life is terrible!” moments later, the words disappeared, soon to be replaced with the words, “Care to share?”

From that moment on, I should have never touched the book again, but I did. I wrote in it all the time. Any spare moment I had, I would spend it writing to the boy I came to know as Tom Riddle. Soon I told Tom everything. I told him of my day, what I did, where I went, what I liked. He got the play-by-play of my life. I told him about Harry, and I told him about Ron and… well, you get the idea. I realized that I was falling for him I was falling for someone who I could never be with. Tom was a memory. He didn’t exist, but I fell for him anyway.

I’m suddenly frightened by him. It scares me that He knows so much about me and I know so little about him. Even the things he tells me, I don’t understand what he’s talking about. He lived fifty years ago. That was before even my parents. I can’t do this anymore. When I talk to him, everything is fine; everything is amazing, actually. But as soon as I close the diary, the worry sets in. It hurts to be frightened of one you love. For, I think I love him. He listens, he understands me. He can relate. He’s so perfect, yet something is wrong. I know that I have to let him go, stop talking to him, but I can’t seem to find the right time to do it. I tell myself, ‘today, I’ll tell him,’ but then as soon as he says hello, I find myself telling him even more of my secrets. I need to end this, and I am going to do it. Now, before I grow too close to pull away.


I sat back and wiped the tears from my eyes, staring at my letter to no one. I folded it in half and put it at the bottom of my trunk, hiding it from the world. I pulled out the diary. For one last time, I dipped my quill into the ink and wrote, ‘Tom, we need to talk.” The letters disappeared into the page, as they always did. I received a very short response. “Yes, yes we do.” How could four words seem so sinister, so terrifying. I had a feeling that those four words would follow me forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And they had. I rolled onto my side and reached into my back pocket, slowly pulling out a folded piece of parchment. I unfolded it and laid it flat on the cold stone next to me. I read, ‘Are you listening? Good, because what I need right now is for someone to listen.’

My whole world is the pain inside me
The best I can do is just get through the day
When life before is only a memory
I wonder why God let me walk through this place


I wish I could stop the constant flow of memories running through my mind, but memories are all I have left. I’ve lost everything to this war. I’ve lost happiness and love; family and friends. I was the cause. I did this to Harry; and I did it without even knowing what was happening. Maybe I didn’t send the spell at him, but what does that matter?

Harry and I walked through my garden, the flowers around us quickly dying with the chill of winter. Harry looked worried as to why I asked him to come walk with me, and he should have been. Walks in the cold aren’t very common. There was a battle going on inside of me, trying to find the right words to start.

“Harry, I need to talk to you,” I finally said after many moments of walking in the thick silence.

“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked, a grin on his face.

I hesitated, re-gathering my scattered thoughts. By the look on Harry’s face, I could see my hesitation made him nervous.

I could feel the tears forming at the backs of my eyes, preparing to fall as the conversation would continue. “Not breaking up with you, no. Not exactly.”

Harry brought his hand up and rubbed his scar for a moment. It was such a simple and common action from Harry, yet it caused me so much torment. I turned away as tears now filled my eyes.

“What’s wrong, Ginny?” Harry must have stopped moving, for I no longer heard the crunch of gravel beneath his steps.

“It’s hurting you.”

Harry laughed. “That’s all? Ginny, my scar has been hurting since I destroyed the last Horcrux.”

“But you haven’t destroyed the last,” I whispered, not sure I wanted Harry to hear.

“What?” Harry asked.

I still couldn’t turn and look at him. I squeezed my eyes shut, the first tears rolling down my cheeks. “You haven’t destroyed the last. There’s one more Horcrux.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s me,” I said, more tears falling to the ground.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Harry sounded frustrated.

I turned around to face him and nearly shouted my explanation.” I’m a Horcrux of Voldemort’s, Harry. Your scar hasn’t been hurting since you destroyed the last one, it started hurting when you moved in with me. When you destroyed Naigini, you moved in with me because you thought it was safe enough. Your scar hurts because there’s a part of Voldemort in me. I can’t really explain it, but it’s true, Harry.”

He looked directly at me and shook his head. He took a step closer to me. “I would know it if you were a Horcrux,” he said, reaching a hand up to touch my cheek. As soon as his fingers touched my skin, he pulled his hand back.

More tears began to fall. “You can’t even touch me without pain.”

He glared at me, fear in his eyes. “Oh yes I can.” He leaned in and kissed me on the lips. Our lips parted in this passion and the kiss became more intense. Suddenly, Harry shoved my shoulders, pushing me away. He turned and doubled over, letting out a cry of pain and covering his scar with his hands.

I could do nothing for him as I stood sobbing and watched him suffer in the pain I had caused him.

And though I can’t understand why this happened
I know that I will when I look back some day
And see how you’ve brought beauty from ashes
And made me like gold purified through these flames


I had told Harry I couldn’t explain, and I couldn’t, but since I’ve been alone, memories came flooding back to me, even the ones I’d rather not recall.

I dipped my quill in the ink and scribbled on the page, ‘Tom, we need to talk.’

He quickly replied, ‘Yes, yes we do,’ and pulled me into the pages of the diary.

As the scene before me focused, I saw Tom standing in front of me. He leaned in and kissed me hello. I smiled at him. “Why do you insist on kissing me before I even know where I am?”

Tom smiled back, his black hair blowing in the wind. “Could you have waited?”

I shook my head and gave him another small kiss. I took a quick look around at where I was standing. I was on a cliff near the sea, the waves crashing far below us. “Where is this?” I asked.

“My orphanage used to take us up here. It’s a very important place to me. That’s why I wanted to bring you here. Because you’re very important to me.”

I smiled, but inside I was dying because I knew that I had to leave him.

“Ginny, I have to know… Do you love me?” Tom asked, looking hopeful.

“Yes, I do,” I answered truthfully.

He smiled and pulled out his wand. “Ginny, I want to give you something,” Tom said. “It’s the most precious thing I can give.”

Tom pointed his wand at his chest. After a moment, the end of his wand started to glow. He drew his wand away and the light stuck to the tip of his wand. “This, Ginny, is my soul. And now, I commit myself to you.” With that, he touched his wand over my heart. It felt warm as the light disappeared into me.

“The ultimate question, Ginny, is; do you love me enough to give me yours?”

“Yes, Tom, I do.” He placed his wand on my chest once again, but this time, it wasn’t warm, it burned. I saw the look on Tom’s face and it was twisted and evil.

Before I saw my own soul leave me, I was suddenly sitting up in a dark room. It was all stone and there was a Giant snake laying dead not too far off. The next thing I saw was Harry Potter running at me with Tom’s diary, clearly destroyed.

After all this has passed
I still will remain
After I’ve cried my last
There’ll be beauty from pain
Though it won’t be today
Someday I’ll hope again
And there’ll be beauty from pain
You will bring beauty from my pain


I blindly raised my hand to touch the scar left on my chest by Tom’s wand. The burn it had caused had never faded, and probably never would. I couldn’t help but to stare at the moon. It was the same shape it had been that night; the night of the final battle. It should have changed, but it hadn’t changed shape in a week. Maybe the moon will never change again. I hope it does, because I couldn’t stand to relive the battle every night of my life.

”Sectumsempra!” Harry shouted, his spell hitting Voldemort square in the chest. Voldemort fell to the ground, a hole in his chest where the spell had hit. He was alive, but only just.

There was quiet; only the faint sounds of battle off in the distance. “Harry,” I said, tears in my eyes. “You can win this. He’s down. There’s only one thing left to do.”

My heart filled with dread. I would die here tonight.

“No, Ginny. You can’t ask me to do this.” He was shaking his head, panic in his eyes.

“You know you have to, Harry. This isn’t just about you and me.”

My mind battled my heart. Though I was telling Harry to kill me, my mind was screaming not to. I couldn’t help thinking, ‘Please don’t let him do it.’

“Ginny, I love you. I could never do it,” he said, the glitter of tears in his eyes.

“Don’t be such a fool, Harry! You’re risking the lives of so many people! Just kill me, Harry! And kill that piece of filth I’m connected to,” I shouted, nodding at the bleeding Voldemort.

Harry raised his wand and pointed it at me. My mind was racing. ‘Don’t do it, Harry! Please, don’t kill me. I’m not ready to die!’

When Harry did nothing, I pulled out my own wand and pointed it at my chest. “If you don’t do it, Harry, I will.”

Harry’s eyes widened. His face hardened and the grip on his wand tightened.

My mind was shouting as I took a breath that would be my last. ‘No, Harry! I wouldn’t do it! Please don’t kill me!’

“AVADA KEDAVRA!” Harry shouted, at the last second turning his wand on Voldemort.

As the bright green spell hit Voldemort, it felt as though it had hit me. I let out a scream and fell to the ground as pain beyond pain surged through my chest, centering on the scar that marked my soul. Not only was I screaming, but so were Harry and Voldemort. I swore I felt Tom screaming inside of me too. We were four beings, screaming as one, feeling the same pain.

There was a blinding white light as the pain increased. I couldn’t tell if the light came from the outside or if it was from my own mind, screaming in a final attempt to put an end to the torture.

As the light died down, the pain slowly went with it and all was silent. There was no longer even the sound of a far off battle. All I could hear was the sound of my own breathing.

I slowly sat up and looked around. In my lap sat a diary; Tom Riddle’s diary. It no longer had a hole through it, but as it must have been fifty years ago when he had used it. I opened it up and flipped through the pages. There was overlapped writing in it from where Harry, Tom and I had written. All the words ever written in this diary were now revealed. So that was it. Tom Riddle was gone; and he was gone for good.

There were two bodies lying motionless in front of me. There was Voldemort, and there was Harry. I clumsily crawled to Harry, tears pouring down my face. His eyes were closed and he wasn’t breathing. I collapsed down on top of him; weeping. For I had lost love twice, and it had not gotten any easier the second time around, it had gotten worse. I didn’t try to hold anything back. No tears were kept hidden; they were all shed for my loss. When I looked up into the nights sky, I saw two things; the blue moon, glowing and lighting the way through my hurt, and the Dark mark, almost invisible for it shone blacker than the night sky. The Dark Lord’s final murder.

Here I am at the end of me
Trying to hold to what I can’t see
I forgot how to hope; this night’s been so long
I cling to your promise, ‘there will be a dawn’


“Ginny?” I heard Ron’s voice ring out in the silence of the night and the shouting of my memory. I lifted my head up off the cold stone. Ron was approaching me, eyes bloodshot; a crack in his voice.

“Ginny, everyone is so worried.” He said, helping me off Harry’s tomb.

“I was saying goodbye,” I said, wiping away my tears.

Ron gave me a hug. “You’re not the only one.”

Voldemort was finally gone, but I wasn’t happy. I doubted there was ever going to be a way for me to be happy again; at least not now, as I lay crying on top of Harry’s still body.

I heard a noise and looked up. Somewhere out of the darkness, I saw hundreds of white eyes staring at me and approaching slowly. I remembered the description Harry had given me once and recognized these creatures as Thestrals, their skeletal bodies standing out in the darkness. They were drawn to the battle by the blood of the fallen. There were hundreds of them at least, each stopping at the edge of the field, taking in the scene. As I looked upon the Thestrals, I saw them not as the terrifying beasts people had described to me, but as a thing of beauty.

I slowly stood and walked towards them, stopping in front of the first of the group. I reached out my hand and softly touched its shoulder. As I stroked the black fur, I couldn’t help but think of how much my life would change. Now, not only had I seen death, but I had caused it. So I stood, petting the magnificent creature and feeling more alone that the moon among the stars.

Suddenly there was someone next to me, stroking the Thestral. It was Ron. He had silent tears running down his face and he did not look at me. He just kept petting.

Two more people came; Lupin and McGonagall, each with tears in their eyes. Then came my mum, Bill, Fleur and George. I turned to look behind me and saw hundreds of people, all coming forward from the battle field to pet these creatures of death. Looking around and seeing all these people who had also lost love, I didn’t feel quite so alone.

After all this has passed
I still will remain
After I’ve cried my last
There’ll be beauty from pain
Though it won’t be today
Someday I’ll hope again
And there’ll be beauty from pain
You will bring Beauty from pain




A/N: Well, Some of this story is written by personal experience, other parts are written from excellent ideas by brilliant friends and some parts are pure creativity. I hope you can’t tell which parts are which because I hope I described the imaginary stuff as well as I have described my experiences and feelings. Though I do hope you can tell that I did not switch souls with Tom Riddle… that was creativity…  With that said, I’d like to thank my best friend for the amazing experience of the sunset and the great idea for the end of the story.
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