Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter. He and his wonderful world belong to J.K. Rowling. The quote belongs to my religion book, The Sacraments: Rights of Conversion.

Okay everyone, hello. This is my first fanfiction, so reviews are welcomed with open arms. Many thanks to Shannon for her constant encouragement to write. Go read her fabulous stories under Gray-Rain Skies.

If you have a reason to live, you can put up with just about anything.

Harry reread the quote in amazement, barely believing that it was upon the page in front of him. He had merely picked up one of the many books sitting in his room that Dudley would never read. And this quote was just written there, as if it was just for him.

He obviously put up with anything, didn't he? The Daily Prophet ripping him to shreds, his schoolmates ignoring him, and the ever-present threat of Voldemort…that definitely counted as "just about anything." So what was his reason for living? It certainly wasn't the desire to save the wizarding world. That wasn't his choice, that wasn't his reason. And his reason wasn't to kill Voldemort: he figured that would be his death anyway.

What was his reason? He took to sitting in the dark at night, unable to sleep, thinking of that one line. What if he didn't have one? What if he just walked the path set out for him when his parents died, the path that Voldemort had set him on, the path that the wizarding world expected? It worried him to no end that he might live for nothing – that nothing mattered to him.

He had always been distant, never quite able to connect with others. But now…now it was worse. He almost never spoke, choosing to brood alone in his depression. He began to contemplate ending it all, wondering if it would be better. He would see his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, and all those he had lost. The wizarding world would learn to stand up for itself, become stronger.

Everyone noticed his behavior as he slipped further and farther into the gloom. Ron grew angry with him, distant. Hermione began reading books about depression, hoping to find a "cure." Remus had tried to talk to him, get him to open. Students began to avoid him in the halls, whispering about the "crazy kid." Harry had just brushed them all off, ignoring them. His darkness was growing, spreading, expanding.

It was Ginny who stood at the side, watching. It was she who knew to let him dwell on his thoughts for a while before approaching him; it was she who allowed him his space, didn't pressure him to talk. And the night that he chose to end it, Halloween, she was there to stop him, prevent his destruction at his own hands. And it was in that moment, when she was holding his wrist in one hand, the confiscated razor in the other, that he realized his reason.

His reason to live had been there all along, despite his attempt to push it away. She had stayed by his side, supporting him, defending him, loving him. How had he forgotten how warm she was, how bright she shone? And he was going to end this game of hide-and-seek romance now, stop avoiding her, stop pretending there wasn't a reason. It had to end.

"Ginny," he whispered. "Ginny." He stopped, unable to say more.

"I'm here," she said, "I'll always be here."

He broke down sobbing as she muttered to him soothingly, hugging him tightly. It seemed like hours before he began to calm, growing silent in her arms.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, so softly that she could barely hear. "I didn't mean to…"

She kissed his forehead, conveying her forgiveness with the simple gesture. "I know." She looked him straight in the eye. "I know."

Looking at her, something tugged at the heart he barely remember having. He leaned forward, cupping her face with his hand. Barely understanding what he was doing, he kissed her tenderly on the lips. His other hand came up to run through her hair as she fisted his shirt in his hands.

Yes, he had a reason to live. And he wasn't letting her go.

Did you like it? Please review...I'd really appreciate it.

--Rachael--