This is my first songfic for this account. I hope you like it. I have done another one with exactly the same words but different lyrics, I'll post that separately. I hope you like this one, though, as I am quiet happy with it. And comments are appreciated, including flames – everyone's entitled to an opinion.

Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter or the song 'So Far Away' by Staind.

So Far Away…

This is my life

Silence lay over the forest as thickly and suffocatingly as a blanket, whose only disturbances came in the forms of heavy, saturated rain droplets of rain as they cascaded down from through the canopy, and leaves that rustled restlessly in the chilly night breeze. Deep within the tangle of trees, undercover of the pattering rain and blustery treetops, a tent, small and dull, hid in the shadows. At a first glance it seemed that there was nothing abnormal about the place, but if one was to look hard enough they could see little disturbances in the air surrounding the tent's canvas, camouflaged by the haze of rain. No sounds came from it, but outside the tent sat a black haired adolescent boy of about seventeen, alone, with his wand in one hand, casting wonderful, magical light upon all within a few meters of it, and in his other hand a scrap of parchment, folded tightly into an envelope shape and stained with the carelessness of the youths of decades. The green-eyed, bespectacled boy was gazing longingly from the parchment, and then turning to gaze inside the tent. Then he'd turn back again, as though torn between the two.

It's not what it was before.

Harry glanced once more into the depths of the tent, keeping a sharp eye open for Ron or Hermione coming out to check on him, or bring him a mug of steaming tea before bed. However, all was still and silent and he could only assume that they had gone to bed already without bidding him goodnight, leaving him alone in the bitter entrance to their cosy, home-like tent. Harry closed his eyes and breathed a deep sigh, feeling more alone than he had felt in a long while. Without any news from anyone from the outside world, no magical, talking Patronus from Lupin, Kingsley or any other Order member, no snatched newspaper from the local wizarding settlement of Tinworth or even a letter from Hagrid, or Ginny, made him feel cut off from the rest of the world, as though he was separate from it, perhaps no longer anything to do with it.

At the thought of Hagrid, he felt a lump rise in his throat, and he wished for nothing more than to be sitting in his hut, sharing bucket-sized mugs of tea, harder-than-rock rock cakes and fascinating news about some more of Hagrid's favourite monsters friends. As his mind strayed to Ginny however, he finally let the tears boil in his eyes; they burned his face and made the evening wind feel colder than ever.

All these feelings I've shared.

He missed her so much … a knot formed in his stomach every time he allowed his mind to stray to her pretty face, her beautiful, brown eyes and her soft, sweet-smelling hair … But he, Harry, was here, in this forest, miles from Ginny, from Hogwarts, from everything. It pained him to think of her walking in the corridors, sitting in her classes, laughing and joking with members of the DA over dinner. He couldn't stop himself thinking that maybe she wasn't missing him at all…

These are my dreams.

Chancing another look over his shoulder, he wiped his face clean and forced himself to stop thinking of Ginny or of anything at all. For a few moments he sat blank-eyed, staring at the stump of a tree through the near pitch-darkness without really seeing it. Hard though he tried, he couldn't stop fantasising about how things would be if he were at Hogwarts, sitting in the common room with Ginny, instead of being here, alone and cold, feeling so bitter towards the world, yet so warm and longing towards the person he missed more than anyone else.

Finally he shook his head and blinked hard, banishing yet more tears. He gripped his wand tightly and after several deep breaths looked back down at the parchment in his hands and whispered "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The parchment immediately sprang to life in his hands, unfurling and flattening itself, shaking out creases and eventually falling to lie flat on the floor before Harry, safely tucked under the tent's entrance to protect it from the elements. As Harry watched it, quite unable to lift it from the ground, he spotted many dots meandering their way between inked lines, moving about as though living beings, acting out an evening of their normal lives. His eyes gazed over the newly-formed map, passing over the Transfiguration classrooms and the headmaster's study, where he saw an inky black dot labelled Severus Snape passing back and forth behind his deck. Harry gripped his wand tighter still.

And then his eye's found it. The Gryffindor common room, situated beneath several flaps and creases that the map had obligingly unfolded as Harry's gaze wondered over them. He leaned in closer, his eyes threatening tears yet again as he finally found the person he desired to see so much.

That I've never lived before.

Ginny Weasley's dot was perched on the sofa in front of the fire, quite as still and alone as he, Harry, was as he crouched their in the tent. He watched her as she moved slightly, repositioning herself, making herself more comfortable, maybe to feel the warmth of the fire more strongly. Sudden heat seemed to coarse through Harry, too, and he sat their taking in her presence and her safety. She was clearly all right, nothing out of the ordinary. But Harry was suddenly aware of the chill breeze on his face again, and became responsive to the fact that his eyes were leaking water. But he did not bat it away. He knew that if he did that more would soon replace it. What was the point? He waited until he could see others joining Ginny in the common room, maybe after a late dinner, and sitting beside her on the sofa that he turned his eyes away. It was too painful to watch. What he wouldn't give, right there and then, for it to be him, settling down in the comfort of the common room, Ginny only inches away from him, close enough to see, to touch, to smell the wonderful, sweet smell of her hair…

Somebody shake me cause I…

I must be sleeping…

Letting out a sob mingled with a gasp of shock, he looked up at last to see Hermione standing over him. Her face was full of concern as she gazed straight over his head and at the parchment, where Neville was now sat beside Ginny, and they were together in front of the fire, and Harry wasn't, Harry was here, so many, many miles away…

Hermione knelt down beside him, a hand on his shoulder. At her touch he felt himself weaken; the tears streamed over his cheeks as he stared at anything but Hermione thorough his blurred, unfocused vision…

"Mischief Managed," whispered Hermione, and finally Harry felt it safe to look round at her. Just by gazing into her eyes, he saw that she knew exactly what was wrong, and she made no effort to stop him as he got up and walked into the tent, leaving her sitting alone in the dark night.

Now that we're here,

It's so far away,

All the struggle we though was in vain,

All the mistakes,

One life contains,

They all finally seem to go away.

Now that we're here,

It's so far away,

All I feel like I can face the day,

I can forgive,

And I'm not ashamed,

To be the person that I am today

These are my words

Miles away, over snow-topped mountains and shimmering lakes, a girl sat huddled on the sofa before the fire in the Gryffindor common room. Her red hair swept gracefully over her shoulder, hanging to her elbows. Her fringe was tucked away behind her ear and she stared blankly into the beautifully dancing fire. The heat of it made her cheeks rosy and her eyes shone in the firelight. Delicate freckles peppered her nose and cheeks, noticeable more than ever through the sheen on her face. She had her knees pulled up tight to her chest and she gripped them tightly, as though by doing so she received comfort. She leant forwards and placed her chin on her kneecaps, her hair swinging forward as she did so to obscure her face.

That I've never said before,

Her mind dwelled on matters from Hogwarts, schoolwork or anything normal of a schoolgirl. Her thoughts were of Harry, God knew where, coping with goodness knew what. Her stomach contracted with fear as she thought of dangerous, faceless figures closing in him, on a Harry so far from her grasp, from her company, closing in on a Harry who was unaware that anything was wrong, laughing jollily with Ron and Hermione as still the people closed in. It almost made her want to yell out, to warn him… but what good would it do? He was there, and she was here. There was nothing she could do. Nothing.

It was several moments before she realised that someone had sat down beside her, someone close enough to see the tears running down her face behind her curtain of hair. He looked into her face and she into his, but as she did so she could think of nothing but Harry, her eyes and mind full of him. She could see him laughing, throwing his head back, his hair dancing joyously in a wind that wasn't there. His eyes were closed as he roared in silent laughter, and his face was round and happy. The thought of him made her weep more silent tears.

There was a pause.

"Ginny?" said Neville, leaning closer to get a better look at her face. She turned her gaze away. She couldn't bear to talk about it. "Ginny, are you alright?"

She stayed staring into the fire again, wiping her face on her sleeve as she did so. Neville didn't move, but stayed gazing into her face, his own an image of anxiety. It took her a while to compose herself, then she looked back around at him, her eyes still gleaming with water as she forced a feeble smile and whispered "I'm fine, Neville. Thanks." And she turned away again.

I think I'm doing ok.

Neville frowned, clearly troubled. However, he assumed himself dismissed and went to get up, but as he did so he moved towards her and knelt down in front of the fire so that his face filled her vision, and she was unable to look anywhere else.

"He'll be ok," he said, his voice full of concern and comfort at the same time. "He will, I know it. Harry's strong, and courageous. I don't know what he's doing but whatever it his he'll be doing it brilliantly. He's going to help this stop Ginny. He's doing it for you, for all of us. We can count on him." He paused again. "I promise."

His words had such an impact on Ginny that she lapsed into fresh tears, unable to hold them back. He sighed deeply and then moved forwards, pulling her into a tight hug. She hugged back without conscious thought, unable to stand the pain anymore. She just wanted to see Harry again, to be with him for just one more day. Then she would let him go, leave and get on with the task she knew he must be doing, that no-one else knew of. When she pulled away, hiccoughing, Neville squeezed her shoulder and got up to make his way to the boy's dormitory. As he entered the staircase, however, Ginny called out to him.

"Neville!"

He turned around to see her standing by the fireplace, her hands in shaking fists and her eyes still brimming with tears.

"Yeah?"

"… Thanks." He smiled sympathetically.

"Your welcome." And he left the room.

And this is the smile.

She stood staring for a few seconds at the place where Neville had vanished. Then she pulled herself together. She was being silly. Just because she hadn't heard from him in a while didn't mean that there was anything wrong with him. He just couldn't send an owl… because he no longer had an owl to send. He had lost Hedwig when they had smuggled him from Privet Drive, and even if he hadn't he wouldn't have been able to take her with him because of the fact that they had fled from the Burrow with less a moments notice. And Hedwig would have been too dangerous to send anyway. She was too easily recognised as Harry's…

She blinked back tears and moved over to her bag by the table in the far corner of the room. From it she withdrew a sheaf of parchment, a quill and a small bottle of black ink, set them down on the table beside her bag and pulled up a chair. Uncorking the bottle, she dipped her quill in and began to write.

She sat there for little over an hour, trying to write down the words she had trapped inside her. However, when she conceded defeat there was very little written down. She looked at her writing without really seeing what she had put. She knew it too well already, as though she had already got it memorised. The fact was that although she had so much to say, just couldn't think of any other way of saying the truth, and had little more to add to it. She folded the parchment and left it on the desk. After arranging her quill and ink bottle over it carefully so as to hide it from view, she made her way to the girl's dormitory, muffling sobs as she went.

That I've never shown before.

As the girl's dormitory door swung shut behind Ginny, Neville finally thought it safe to reappear. Traipsing into the room from round the corner he had been sat behind for the last hour, he crept over to the table Ginny had been sat at during the time in which Neville had been cowering out of sight. He lifted the ink and quill he had watched her arrange so carefully and took into his hands the parchment, now stained far more than it hand been when Ginny had first extracted it from her bag. It was damp, as though something had been spilt upon it and then left to dry. He glanced nervously over his shoulder. He knew he was doing wrong, but he knew he had to see what was going on with Ginny. He knew it was Harry that was causing her this pain. Maybe she knew where he was, what had happened to him? Maybe it was information on the whereabouts of Hermione, who had disappeared of the face of the earth without a trace? Or maybe her brother's, Ron's, condition was deteriorating…

Somebody shake me cause I…

I must be sleeping…

He opened the parchment with quaking hands, desperate to know more of his friends. His own eyes glistened with salt water as he glanced down at the two lines of writing Ginny had managed to pen down in that hour he had sat watching her.

Dear Harry,

I love you.

That was all. The writing was blotchy and Neville knew, without having to think, that it was with tears that the writing ran and the ink distilled. Unable to bear it any longer, he closed the parchment and placed it back on the table, turned and went upstairs.

Now that we're here,

It's so far away,

All the struggle we thought was in vain,

All the mistakes,

One life contains,

They all finally seem to go away.

And now that we're here,

It's so far away,

And I feel like I can face the day,

I can forgive,

And I'm not ashamed,

To be the person that I am today.

Harry curled up on his bunk, his knees brought up close to his body. A chill had filled him after seeing Ginny, a chill that he couldn't throw off.

I'm so afraid of waking

He cried as silently as he could, unable to contain his feelings of despair, but he was still audible to Hermione and Ron, who had since joined her in the entrance to the tent, and both of whom were sat outside in the cold, listening to their friend's sobs of agony.

Please don't shake me,

Ginny sat on the end of her bed, shaking with sobs. Her face was encrusted with tears and she couldn't find it in herself to let herself think of why it was she was so distressed.

Afraid of waking,

She lay down on the duvet of her four-poster, clutching at it in her attempts to stem the flow of tears. But she knew that she couldn't stop them, and instead let them send her to sleep.

Please don't shake me…

Now that we're here,

It's so far away,

All the struggle we though was in vain,

All the mistakes,

One life contained,

They all finally seem to go away.

Now that we're here,

It's so far away,

And I feel like I can face the day,

I can forgive,

And I'm not ashamed,

To be the person that I am today…