I'm Harry Potter. I'm the Boy Who Lived.
The Daily Prophet said it. Dumbledore said it. The world said it. And so did you.
That just goes to show that even with the most acute perception of society and its conclusions, things may be overlooked. Crucial things. Crucial to me.
I'm the Boy Who Lived.
But every time you looked at me, I died. Every time your eyes held the blatant disregard and contempt cast in my direction, I died. And every time you'd turn your back, I knew I'd never breathe.
I stopped distinguishing the masks I held for your sake and for others long ago - it has all became a blur of raw and corroding emotion. All I knew was that my face and my heart had become different entities. I mustn't show my pain. Pain inflicted unwittingly, by you. My death.
Because I'm the Boy Who Lived.
I'm esteemed for my apparent courage against Voldemort. Perhaps I should be more afraid of him than I am. But I'm not. Because unlike everyone supposes, Voldemort is not my biggest fear. Fear is not the thought of facing power in battle. Fear is not the sight of dark foreboding cloaks and green light. Fear is not knowing that each breath you take may be your last, and that any moment you may cease to live.
Fear is having nothing to live for, but fighting anyway, without knowing why. It's opening your eyes to realise that everything you thought was good in the world, existed only in the calming blanket of dreams and wishes, their memory fading with each passing second of consciousness and cruel reality. Fear isn't feeling. Fear is empty. An empty hole where a heart used to be, and waiting for the day your soul will follow.
Fear is what I face every day.
But I'm the Boy Who Lived.
How can I fear the creature that receives the allegiance and the attentions from the one that I crave? How can I fear the one who you don't look upon in hate? No, it is not fear that drives me in my battle against the darkest wizard alive - it is only a blind and empty ambition to destroy; to fight; to release this pain until my body is as numb and lifeless as my heart.
The Boy Who Lived.
Today is the last I will see of your face, unhindered by a cloak of darkness. Seven years I've faced it, loved it, felt my fear. And when you turn your back this time, the swish of your robes will echo in my soul forever.
I will be your biggest conquest; your biggest victory, and you'll never know.
That I'm the Boy Who Died.
The fight will go on; I will wage fury on Voldemort, but it feels only as a memory of things yet to happen. My path is decided for me - I have no need to think. To feel. Just as well - I don't think I could. Perhaps one day this emptiness will take my soul, perhaps then I can rest. But until then, my every dream will house your face, and my every wish your touch. I fight for the pursuit of that dream. I fight as a boy who lives.
But I'll always be the Boy Who Died. At your hands. The only hands that ever held that power. At your eyes. The only eyes that ever held my love. At your face. The only face that ever held my life.
I'm Harry Potter. I'm the Boy Who Died.