A/N: This is a one shot, song fic based on the song Beautiful Disaster by Kelly Clarkson. If you haven't heard this song, I highly recommend it. I think that it is a perfect fit for a HG story. I am very pleased with the way this turned out, and I hope all the readers are too. Enjoy! (And please review, I would greatly appreciate it.)
Ginny Weasley stormed up the stairs of Number 12 Grimmauld Place into the room she was staying in for the summer. Slamming the door shut behind her, Ginny looked around for something to hit, or throw. To say that she was angry was an understatement. She had spent the last three hours; count them, three, slowly bringing down the barriers Harry that had erected around himself after the death of his godfather. Harry had spent the better part of the last month and a half brooding in solitude, letting no one, not even his two best friends Ron and Hermione, speak with him. There was no specific reason why today was different, maybe Harry had finally tired of being lonely, but when Ginny had gone upstairs to invite him down to lunch, instead of his usual mumbling reply, he had actually spoke. His short reply of "No thanks Ginny I'm just not hungry" had shocked Ginny. She knew that if she were to do something to help Harry now was her chance. So instead of leaving, she sat down beside him on the floor.
Harry was seated in the corner of the dark bedroom, with his back to the wall and his knees up to his chest. He had looked so helpless, and lost. All that Ginny wanted to do was hug him, offering him comfort in the only way she knew how. Unfortunately for Ginny she knew that Harry wouldn't appreciate her getting all emotional, so she vied for the next best option, the logical approach.
"Why aren't you hungry Harry?" she had asked him.
"I don't feel like eating because…well that's not important, I just don't feel like eating" was his reply.
"Because why Harry?" Ginny gently probed, hoping that Harry would talk, rather that blow up at her as he had been so prone to doing lately.
Saying that his reply shocked her would be an inadequate description. "Because, when you lose someone close to you, someone who was your family in every respect, you're in shock. You want nothing more than to curl up into a little ball and die. But in fact you can't. Because that would be offensive to that person, you know that they would want you to go on. They would want you to continue your life, as close to normal as possible. Unfortunately for you and for them, the task of doing that is too great. You cannot even force yourself to carry out the day to day actions of your life, because it's too much to bear, knowing that you will be doing those things for the rest of your life, and for the rest of your life that person will never be there to do them with you or to watch you do them. For the rest of your life, you will be alone."
Ginny must have sat staring at Harry for many minutes before she could respond. To think that he had been holding that all in, living with those feelings ever since their dreadful visit to the Department of Mysteries. The thought of it made her heart ache. She had told him that he was never alone, that they would always be there for him, no matter what happened. She told him how they cared for him, though she did not mention the way she specifically felt for him. How she still liked him after all these years, though maybe she should have.
For hours they talked, mostly about Sirius, and some about the war. Though, the conversation was sad, Ginny was happy that Harry was withdrawing from the cocoon he had put himself in. He was finally opening up to someone, talking about the feelings that must have been overwhelming him. Ginny was so happy with the progress she was making, when suddenly Harry had stopped talking mid sentence.
She had asked him what was wrong, but he didn't reply. When she asked again, he told her to get out, to leave him alone. He said that their entire conversation had been a mistake, he shouldn't have told her anything. When she asked why, he replied in a solemn voice, "Because everyone who is close to me ends up dead Ginny. I don't want to be responsible for anymore deaths."
She had started to tell him how ridiculous he was being, how they wanted to be close to him and knew the risks, but were willing to take them anyways. He had stood up interrupting her. He yelled at her to get out. He said that it was his decision to make, and he had made it. Ginny would have tried to reason with him, but she knew that the barriers she had so carefully brought down, had been resurrected at full force. These were the barriers that held in Harry's emotions, and kept out everyone else. Knowing that anything she said would be pointless, she left the room, slamming the door on the way out.
Now, lying in on her bed, in her bedroom Ginny's anger slowly dissipated. After all, if their places were reversed wouldn't she be doing the same thing? She knew she would, although she wasn't happy about admitting it. She was no longer mad at Harry; in fact she supposed she never was. When it came down to it, this, all of this, was Voldemort's fault. Harry was not to blame.
If it had been someone else grieving, Ginny would not have been so adamant about helping them, nor would she have been so intrusive. But Harry was not just grieving over the death of a loved one; he was grieving over the death of a loved one, a death that he blamed himself for. That alone would make his situation different from another's, but that along with the upcoming war made the circumstances so much harder for Harry to deal with. And there was the fact that he didn't know how to deal with his emotions.
As Ginny lie on her bed, all these thoughts ran through her head, along with the memories of the conversation she had had with Harry. She needed to do something about it, even if it wouldn't help Harry directly. Ginny leant over the edge of her bed and found, underneath it, her well used notebook. She then pulled a quill out of her bag.
Much like Harry, Ginny was reluctant to share her emotions with anyone. Though she knew that she must express her feelings somehow, she knew how bad it was to let things become bottled up inside. When Ginny needed to release her emotions, she wrote songs. So Ginny picked up her quill and began to write.
He drowns in his dreamsAn exquisite extreme I know
All of Ginny thoughts regarding Harry and his current situation flowed onto the page.
He's as damned as he seemsMore heaven than a heart could hold
He had told them of the prophecy, how he either must kill Voldemort or be killed by him.
And if I try to save himMy whole world would cave in
Ginny knew that there another way that she could try and save Harry Potter, but that would have unknown, quite possibly horrendous repercussions. Ginny could tell him the truth about why she was worried, the whole truth. That would be the truth in which she loved him, in which she always had although she denied it.
It just ain't rightLord it just ain't right
It was wrong for Harry to have to deal with all of these things at such a young age, if he should even have to deal with them at all
Oh, and I don't knowI don't know what he's after
What could Harry possibly be searching for in this world, was there anything left that could bring him any happiness at all.
But he's so beautifulHe's such a beautiful disaster
Harry was a wonderful person, a wonderful person who was forced to live a horrible life. Was this some cruel trick of god, to create such a perfect person, and place him into a life of turmoil and heartache?
And if I could hold onThrough the tears and the laughter
Would she be able to help Harry get through the war like she wanted to?
Lord would it be beautifulOr just a beautiful disaster
If she managed to help Harry get through the war, what would its outcome bring for him? Would he finally be able to find peace, and a happy life, or would the end of the war bring only more sadness?
He's magic and mythHe's as strong as what I believe
Hopefully Harry would have the strength needed to get through the war. If his strength was anywhere near the level Ginny saw it to be, he would do fine.
A tragedy withMore damage than a soul should see
Harry had already been through so much in his life, it was unfair that he must go through more.
But do I try to change himSo hard not to blame him
Should Ginny even be bothering to help Harry, was it worth it? What a stupid question, it was Harry; he would always be worth it.
Hold me tightBaby hold me tight
Ginny wished that she had someone to hold her at times like these when her feelings were overpowering her, but the only one she wanted to do that was one who needed the comfort more than she did.
Oh and I don't knowI don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
He's such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful
Or just a beautiful disaster
But he's only happy, hysterical
Was there a chance of anything occurring between them? Could Harry even give her what she wanted from him? With his life as it was, could he ever return her feelings of love, or was that too much to ask?
I'm searching for some kind of miracleWaiting so long, waiting so long
Ginny wished there as a way to help Harry, a way to solve all his problems. But the only magic she knew of didn't work that way.
He's soft to the touch
But frayed at the ends he breaks
He's never enough
And still he's more than I can take
Harry stood up from the floor, and left his dark haven in search of Ginny. He must have spent hours sharing all of his worries and feelings with her, and then he had just blown up in her face. Harry Potter would admit when he had done something wrong, and this was one of those times. Ginny had only been trying to help him, and he had yelled at her for her efforts.
Harry had sat in his room, for a long time after the incident and he had time to think about all that Ginny had said. Everything that she had told him was true. There was no good reason for him to become a recluse. Every single one of his friends knew the risks they took by associating themselves with him, and yet they did it anyways. She said that he shouldn't be mad at them for it; flattered rather, that they thought his friendship was worth such tremendous risks. It was true, the more Harry thought about it, the more he realized how lucky he really was.
The conversation he had had with Ginny had made him look at things in a different light. Now, he had to apologize for what an ass he had been. Harry was surprised when he reached Ginny room, and she wasn't there. Surely it wasn't suppertime already, but a quick glance at his watch assured him that it wasn't. He was just about to turn around and head back to his room, when he heard a piano being played in a room down the hall.
Wondering if it was Ginny, he walked down the hallway and was about to open the door to the room when he heard a lovely voice singing a song, and he stopped. It took him a few minutes to realize that the lovely voice belonged to Ginny.
When Ginny had finished writing the song, she took her notebook to the sitting room down the hall, where the piano was. If this was to be a proper song, it needed music as well.
After fiddling around for a few minutes, the tune just seemed to come to her. It flowed through her as she played. And as she played she sang.
Harry stood outside the door to the sitting room mesmerized. He listened to the entire song, and he knew that it was about him. The fact that she had written a song about him, a song so caring, it shocked him. He hadn't known that she cared for him that deeply, or in that way.
For the first time in months, a smile appeared on Harry's face, and he knew that he would get through the war. He would make it with the help of the girl who had written a song about him, and who was playing it at that very instant.
