Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter related.

Summary: What happens when two people love each other but one dies? On the anniversary the remaining lover returns to the one place where he knew his lover had been happy. (Vague on purpose.)

This Pain

The snow is falling slowing, lazily, as if there were no cares in the world. And for a moment it seems like there really aren't any cares. The war is over. The Dark Lord defeated. What more can people ask for? They are free to live their lives without any fear of being taken from their beds and sacrificed like cattle and worthless beings. It's the life everyone had looked forward to since the day Voldemort was seen at the Ministry of Magic.

The lake we used to sit by has frozen over like many other things in my life. Can you see it? It seems that even the giant squid has noted the difference of those that visit his lake. He knows there is someone important to someone else missing. He knows that not everything is right with me. But how can he? He's not a sentient being, or at least not like us.

It's been six months and it doesn't seem to get any better. This pain I have inside… This pain that throbs and burns like a newly made wound. This pain that makes my heart clench when I hear your name being uttered by people who don't deserve to say it. The same pain that was caused the day you left me alone to this miserable world. I came back thinking I could make it all go away if I showed up where we used to be so happy. I came back on our one and a half year anniversary.

One year. It's how long you were mine. One year is the time of happiness you gave me. It's the time you were happy. Truly happy. It's the time you got to be yourself. The time you weren't what someone else wanted you to be. It's the time you were just the person you had always wanted to be.

Is this what life is all about?

Are we supposed to hold on to something and then have it taken away from us? Because if that's the case, what am I doing here? Why couldn't you have just taken me with you? Would it have been so hard to just put everything behind us and enjoy this new life we have managed to bring to fruition? Would it have been so bad…? Would it? I don't know anymore.

A fifth year behind me mentions some names. I can hear your name in the long stream that just keeps sprouting from her mouth. It's like her friend has opened a dam and now it won't close. She knows all the names by heart. How could she not? They are still in the Daily Prophet. Every single day they print them, wanting to commemorate "the fallen." Every single day I see the person they wanted you to be, not the one I knew.

The pain is back. That pain that brings tears to my eyes. The same pain that makes me want to die.

Hermione has told me to give up, you know. Just yesterday she told me to move on. She told me that nothing was worth all the pain I am going through. But how can she understand when she has her family? Her Ronald? How can she presume to tell me when I have had enough? How can she just tell me to forget you when I never had anyone quite like you?

I have, you know. I've had enough of this life. I've had enough of everything. It seems so meaningless now that there's no one with whom to share this beautiful world. At least that's what Ron has told me. He tells me that everything is beautiful. But I can't see it. Not with you gone. Not when you have left me alone. Not when you have left behind this big gaping wound where my heart used to be. I don't see any of it and they don't understand.

I just want to see you again. That smile that made my day. That laugh that made me laugh. I want it all back. I would give anything to have it all back. And I have tried. I have tried to see if there is a way to get you back. To have you back right here by my side. The Resurrection Stone can. But I can't do that. Not to you. I can't just bring back a shell of the person I knew. It would dishonor you so completely. It wouldn't be the you I fell in love with.

The snow is falling faster now. There's a storm approaching, but I don't care. You aren't here to keep me warm. I'll survive. What's one more, right? What's one more storm to live through?

I can hear Ron's heavy footsteps coming toward me. I wish I had the strength to tell him to go away, but I don't and I can't. The tears run down my face and I can feel the cold trail of moisture they leave behind.

Yesterday I got a letter from the Ministry. They want to know if there's anything I would like. "Anything at all" they say. There is one thing. But they can't give it to me. No one can. You're gone.

Ron is saying I should go back inside. That it's not healthy for me to be outside in the cold for so long. But he doesn't realize that I have been cold since that day. He doesn't realize that there really isn't much he can do about it. That even if I were to throw myself into a fire, I wouldn't be able to warm myself up. My warmth left me when you took your last breath.

I sniffed. I bet you would have found that funny. You always did. I couldn't sniffle without you laughing at me.

I don't want to go, but Ron is insisting. He's following Hermione's orders. You wouldn't have put up with it. But I'm too tired to fight anything anymore.

We're passing the Great Hall and I can't help but turn around. There, in the middle of the huge corridor the Headmistress decided to make a monument to all those that fell with you. Your name is on there. I know. I haven't seen it yet, but I know it's here. How could it not be? It commemorate all the deaths of the war.

Ron is giving me a sympathetic look and it brings fresh tears to my eyes. I can't help it. I run my hand along the obelisk, tracing the many names. My fingers automatically going over the curves and lines of the letters.

NYMPHADORA TONKS

REAMUS JOHN LUPIN

COLIN CREEVEY

ALASTOR MOODY

And many others I have heard of and some of whom I never have. But they don't do you justice. Nothing can do you justice. Not all the ceremonies to celebrate the "new era" or the mourning they hold every month. It's not because you were too good, though in my eyes you always were. It's because they think that commemorating will somehow make all the deaths all the better. And it can't. It never will. But they don't understand even though I have tried to tell them. No one can except all those who lost someone so close to them. Many did. Some didn't. But they still don't understand me.

I can see you name. I can barely touch it, but I can see it. At the top of the obelisk right where you should be. But it doesn't make me feel better. It makes you seem out of reach to me. And I can't take that. I can't take thinking that you're out of my reach. You may be gone, but I know that we will see each other soon and when we do, it will be the happiest day of my life. You wouldn't want to see me so soon in the place you're at, but I can't help it. It hurts too much.

There are only two things I would regret then. The first being not asking you to marry me before that day. If I wouldn't have been such a coward, you could've have gone into that battle being my husband. The second you already know. I have told you a million times since you left. I will always regret not following you immediately after you left me. This life isn't worth living without you here by my side.

"Come on."

Squeezing my eyes shut, I can hear Ron moving away. He stopped you know. He stopped and is looking back at me and regardless of how I feel I follow him to the end of the hallway. I can see your name even from that far away and a sob escapes me. It's the only thing left in this world. That obelisk with your name on it. It's the only thing that ties you here to Hogwarts. And I can't take it anymore. I can't keep this thing up, not without you.

The pain is back and I have to clutch at my side to stop myself from breaking right there. It hurts too much.

I can hear Ron's hurried steps closely followed by a set of smaller, lighter ones, but I don't care. I'm not getting up from here. Even through the tears and pain I can still make out your name. It's there, visible for everyone to see and it taunts me like nothing else has before. You are gone, but you're name still remains as a reminder to me and there's only one thing I can say.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for not keeping you safe like I told you I would.

I'm sorry for not being there fighting alongside you.

I'm sorry that I lost you for even one moment.

I'm sorry that I have to be so weak.

Can you feel it? I'm shaking so hard. I feel that if I let go, I will break. But I can't do that, not right now. Not in front of everyone.

Hermione's hands are on me. Ron is trying to get me to stay still. Can you hear what they're trying to say to me? Something about calming down. You always did pay more attention than I did to them. It's why you knew me so well.

I can't help but murmur your name over and over. What Hermione says next I can hear. She tells me you are gone and it just makes the pain worst then it already is. I didn't want to hear that you are gone. I didn't want to hear it. I don't want to hear it. Not from them. Not from our two friends.

"Get him to the infirmary." What do you think they intend to do? There is nothing that can cure me. My one medicine is gone and nothing can replace it. But it's in their nature to try to help those in need and I have been in need since you took your last breath.

They're taking me but I can still see your name if I turn my head slightly. I can see your name through my blond hair: HARRY POTTER.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Please review. Tell me what you think. :)

So, I was sitting in my 10 am British Literature class and I was working on the next chapter for "Starting Over" when I just suddenly changed topics. Voilà! This was born. I'm sorry if it sounds a little depressing. I'm not depressed, if it makes you feel any better. I haven't tried a fic like this and would really like your opinion. The summary is supposed to sound vague. I don't reveal the identity of the narrator until the end of the fic. Oh, one more thing. The story is structured so it can sound a little clumsily put together. There really isn't supposed to be a pattern to the narration.