So a couple of things.

First: sorry it's taking me so long to update and all. Between school, work and everything that's going on around here, it just has been way to crazy.

Second: My cat died this morning. I am terribly sad and this story helped write some of it out.

Third: I listened to the song Sad Romance, violin version, while writing this. It helped imagine parts of the story.

And finally: I do NOT own Harry Potter. It belongs to J.K. Rowling. If I did, then it would have more yaoi/slash in it instead of GinnyxHarry. This is slash, if you hadn't guessed.

Enjoy!

Winter Melancholy

The icy breeze carried small bunches of snow across the path. It had stopped snowing a while ago, but the wind made it appear to be snowing. It was cold. So cold that it hurt when you breathed in. It was the kind of weather where people would stay inside; huddling by the fire to keep warm, hot chocolate in their hands with blankets wrapped tightly around them. Tree branches snapped and fell to the earth from the cold. The snow sparkled in the falling winter sunlight. The sun shone brightly, but its warmth failed to reach any daring person that traveled outside. A young man paused as he stopped to catch his breath. In the background a giant white mansion was just visible through the trees. It seemed almost as if it were a castle made out of ice. It seemed to blend in quite well with the surrounding snow. A few moments later, and he continued up the path.

His jet black hair curled delicately around his shoulders and swayed lightly in the breeze. His eyes were beautiful malachite green that sparkled when he was happy. Right now, they were filled with sadness and guilt. He had long ago rid himself of the glasses he wore when he was in school. He reached up with a hand that was as pale as fine porcelain and pulled the opening of the cloak together to keep out the cold. He wore plain black slacks and a grey sweater. His cloak was made of the heaviest velvet and was a deep forest green that brought out his eyes. A silver pin in the shape of a very intricate Eye of Horus held the cloak together at his throat. It was a Christmas gift from his best friend's brother that worked in Egypt. The cloak was trimmed in gold thread. The hood lay across his shoulders. Despite the frigid temperatures, he decided against putting it up. The wind that ghosted over his face made him feel alive. The man's name was Harry Potter. He was one of the wizarding world's most famous people. He was famous for the small lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. When he just barely over one year old, a dark wizard, Voldemort, had killed his parents and tried to kill him too. The curse rebounded and destroyed all but Dark Lord's soul. Seventeen years later, after the Dark Lord had regained a body; he killed Voldemort and freed the entire wizarding world. That had been a little over a year ago.

The snow crunched under his black boots as he walked slowly up the winding path. As he turned the corner, a giant black iron gate loomed ahead of him. There were giant metal spikes at the top that were no doubt laced with magic. In the middle was a giant M that was surrounded by falling oak leaves. Harry frowned when he noticed that the lock on the gate was missing. He passed it off as the caretaker and approached the gate without a sound. This was the first time he had ever been here, and he was a little nervous. He wasn't even sure if he could get past the wards. The only living member was in Azkaban the last he knew. He stopped wondering, seeing as it would get him nowhere and it was getting colder out.

He stepped up to the gate and gently placed his hand on it. Seeing as nothing happened, he pulled it open enough so he could get past. He hesitated and reached out with his left hand. It met with a slight force, almost as if one was pressing against water. These were the wards. He pushed a little more and the entire area flashed blue before the force on his hand disappeared. He didn't hold back the surprise that went through him. This meant that he would be able to cross through them and enter the manor. It didn't make sense for them to let him through, considering he needed expressed permission from one of the occupants of the manor. And since the current and last owner of the manor was occupying a cell far away, and most likely wouldn't give him permission even if he asked politely, Harry was shocked. He frowned and walked forward, closing the gate behind him.

The entire manor lay quiet like a sleeping giant. Snow covered every inch of the yard and front steps. The manor was four stories high and had three wings. The main wing, which held several parlors, a ballroom, and a huge kitchen as well as the entrance to the conservatory. The east wing, which held mostly guest rooms. And the west wing, which was where the family all had rooms. There was a stable out back that housed some of the most exotic and rare horses ever seen. The front porch ran the entire length of the main wing. In the middle were two heavy oak doors. Harry silently walked up the stone steps and approached the doors. He waved his hand and whispered, "Alohomora." He smiled as he heard the locks inside open. After he defeated Voldemort, he found he didn't have to use a wand to do spells. He had done that once without thinking in front of a group of people. Several of which were Weasley's and the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shackelbolt. That didn't go over well. Several people started to whisper about how he might become the next Dark Lord. So he used his wand when he was around others, and it made them feel better. The only ones that didn't seem to mind were most of the Weasley's and Hermione. The only one that seemed to have a problem with it was Ginny. She refused to talk to him after he had done some wandless magic in front of her. Now she looked at him as if he were from another planet.

Harry shook himself from his thoughts and opened the doors. He walked inside and into the main hall. The doors shut noiselessly behind him as he stood there and gazed up at the grand staircase and glass chandelier. The staircase led up to the second floor and was covered in a thick red carpet. The chandelier sparkled in the sunlight that filtered in through the windows. It was made out of pure glass and held over 50 candles. Little pieces of glass hung down shaped like tiny raindrops. On both sides of the foyer were rooms, parlors for greeting guests. To the right was a hallway that led to the kitchen and beyond that the conservatory. Harry was almost certain that the kitchen had never been seen by human eyes since the time it was built so many centuries ago. He turned away from the hallway and slowly walked down the left hand corridor. If anyone had told Harry a year ago that he would willingly walk through the halls of Malfoy Manor, he would have told them they were crazy and then hexed them. But here he was. Walking through the hallways getting stared at by the portraits that hung on the walls. Well, more like getting glared at by the men and curiously stared at by the women. He ignored them and kept walking.

At the end of the hall lay the most elegant ballroom outside of Hogwarts. It could hold well over a hundred people all at once. There were more chandeliers like the one in the foyer hanging from the high ceiling as well as several candelabras circling the room. Alongside one of the walls were floor to ceiling windows. Harry looked closer and noticed that there were three sets of sliding glass doors that led out to what appeared to be a rose garden. On the other wall was a grand piano. It was pure black and stood out greatly from the whiteness of the walls. Harry walked over to it and ran a finger lightly across the keys. He noticed a small table out of the corner of his eye. He turned to it and studied the violin case that rested there. He slowly walked over to it and opened it to reveal a beautifully crafted violin. He gently lifted it and the bow out. No harm could come from playing just one song, could it? Shortly after he killed Voldemort, he had learned how to play. When he played the violin it soothed his mind and allowed him to stop caring for a short while. All the nightmares, all the deaths flashing before his eyes every night when he went to sleep just melted away. He forgot everything. He forgot everything that happened, himself, where he was, and even who he was with at times. It all disappeared and for a small while he stopped being Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. He was himself. He was just Harry.

He cradled the violin between his neck and shoulder and ran the bow across the strings. It made a horrid screeching noise from not being used in so long. He set the bow down and tightened some of the strings. He picked up the bow again and ran it along the strings once more. This time a beautiful sound echoed in the ballroom.

"This is for you, Draco," he whispered as he closed his eyes and began to play.

He played a sad song that was filled with pain, but hauntingly beautiful at the same time. Had there been anyone there, it would have forced them to start crying from the sheer sadness of it. His fingers ghosted over the strings as he lost himself in the sound. The sound traveled through the ballroom and out the door. It filled every corridor of the empty manor. Some of the portraits openly wept at the sound while the stronger ones moved into their portraits to console them. Despite being Malfoy Manor, there were quite a few sentimental portraits.

The bow slid back and forth across the strings as he played. A single tear went unnoticed by him down his cheek. His expression turned into a frown as his emotions threatened to spill. There were so many things he had done that could have been changed. So many things he could have done differently and then maybe everyone would still be alive. Sirius, Fred, Tonks, Neville, Snape, Dumbledore, and even Draco. They would all still be alive and living the lives that they deserved to live. If only he knew then what he knew now, then things might have been different. He kept playing until he became numb to his emotions. Even then, he continued to play. He played until he couldn't play anymore. By then, the sun was beginning to set and cast long shadows throughout the ballroom. Another tear slipped down his cheek as he lowered the violin. He sighed and opened his eyes.

"And just what do you think you're doing in here?"

Let me know what you think!

Jaa!