AN: Written for the 'Just Hugo' challenge by Mi High Lover on HPFC. Because we love Hugo :) *hugs*
Hugo Arthur Weasley.
Hufflepuff Hugo.
Helpful Hugo.
Hidden Hugo.
That's you. Hugo Arthur Weasley, hidden in the background, lost in the crowd of your cousins and famous faces.
Honestly, though, why are you the hidden one? They're the ones with the stupid red hair. Too much stupid red hair. Why aren't any of them hidden? They blend in well enough.
But they blend in in a good way.
You blend in in a bad way.
Is it possible to be forgotten and yet stick out like a sore thumb at the same time?
Sometimes you wish you didn't have so many cousins. You love them, of course you do.
Except more often than out you don't. Don't lie to yourself, Hugo.
It's just that Dominique's so loud, and James and Fred think they're all that, and Molly and Louis get lost in the crowd as much as you do.
Sometimes you wish you didn't have a sister. It's a vile thought, but it's not as if you can help having it. You love your sister, of course you do.
Except more often that not you wish she'd never been born. Don't lie to yourself, Hugo.
It's just that Rose shines so brightly in your family. Perfect grades, perfect attitude, perfect Weasley looks, perfect perfect perfect.
She's so fucking perfect it makes you feel inferior.
Then there's you. Little Hugo, only son of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Nephew of Harry Potter. The shy, smiling brown-haired boy in all those newspaper articles. Witch Weekly's latest heartthrob now you've turned sixteen. Brother to the amazing Rose Weasley. Practically unbeatable at chess (as expected).
That's the Hugo you'll always be known as. Identity already decided for you. But that's what comes with having famous parents.
And you're fine with all that, of course you are. It's great being the Hugo Weasley that the public knows and adores.
Except more often that not you hate that person so much. Don't lie to yourself, Hugo.
And it makes you so angry that nobody takes the time to get to know you, or even notice you. The real you, that is. Not the cute, quiet, chess-playing little boy you were ten years ago (people change, aren't you allowed to change too?), or the most recent obsessive crush of teenage witches everywhere (you've only had one girlfriend before, what do those girls see in you? The fame? Oh, yes, of course).
That's not who you really are. Since when does a picture in Witch Weekly have a personality? Likes, dislikes, character traits, annoying habits you really need to snap out of, thoughts, feelings, emotions, opinions, favourite Quidditch team, a voice.
Is a voice so hard to ask for?
To be heard over everyone else shouting for attention?
All you want is for someone, anyone – a pretty girl, a random man walking down the street, a crying baby in a pram, a troll – to appreciate you for you. And, if you have to admit it: to give you the time of day for once. Attention. A voice.
So, Hugo, who is this real you you're so eager for everyone to notice? Out of everyone, you can't have lost him in the crowd. You can't lose yourself. Can you?
Come back when you find him, Hugo.
please review :)