Always the Reluctant Hero
He's strong. He has to be. He is, after all, their hero. Even if he would rather run away. He doesn't want the fame and the glory. Yet there it is waiting for him. Because he is the wizarding world's hero and he always will be. As long as he defeats Voldemort. He is their hero when all he wants is to hang out with his friends, know his parents, and be happy. But at least one of those will never happen. How can he know his parents if they're dead? If they died saving him? It doesn't matter though because he is their knight in shining armor.
Sometimes he wonders what life would have been like if his parents were still alive. If he had grown up in the wizarding world and Voldemort and his death eaters were just bad dreams. If he had been raised by his parents instead of an abusive uncle, horse-faced aunt, and bullying cousin. But then he stops himself before he lets his sadness turn to anger because being angry clouded his judgement too much. He already had enough anger to stop Voldemort a couple times. But then he stops and thinks about it; was it anger... or love?
His parents love for him had helped him to defeat Voldemort the first and second time. Didn't that count for anything? He can't stand all the questions swirling around. Does he deserve this fame? Did Voldemort choose the wrong boy? Is it his fault his parents are dead? Yes. He knows the answer to that one. It is his fault his parents are dead. Voldemort had been after him. Is it Voldemort's fault he's famous for something he doesn't remember...or is it his mom's fault? He realizes blaming someone won't stop him from being the boy who lived, and with that thought he drifted into a fitful sleep. The boy who lived... and the boy who sometimes wish he was the boy who died.
Crazyblonde
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