Disclaimer: All the characters,places and situation that you'll recognize are copyrighted to JK Rowling. No money are made. (hope you'll forgive me but once told this in the first chapter I don't see the need to tell you again, again... you have understand me right?)

beta&special thanks: Thanks to Enne De Paix, LadyFlashB, Rachel and Blaise for read this and explain where I was wrong Thanks.

AN: Hell's angel told me that's a bit confusing, I know that so I add this little note... Harry is not only thinking but also talking aloud with the other person.

this chapter is from Harry POV (not all chapter will be)
italics are emphasis
bolds are yell

If you have time at the and of this chapter could you please push the review button and let me know what do you think about it? Thanks.

Now, go on with the story. enjoy

The Boy Who Bear Our Hope

Chapter one - Can an icon have feelings?

It's strange how my whole life suddenly changed one night, about six years ago, when a half-giant came to rescue me from my family and my life of slavery with the Dursleys.

That night I found out I was a wizard, and not an ordinary one but a famous wizard, the hope of the entire Wizard World: 'The Boy Who Lived'.

Naturally, before starting Hogwarts I'd no idea what that marvellous title meant. First of all there were the stares, then the fame, the celebrity for something that I didn't even remember, the gossip and the incessant changing of opinion of the Wizarding population. That one was the worst; one day I was the greatest hope for every one then the next I was a crazy liar.

Truth be told, I really came to understand the entire meaning of my status as 'Gryffindor Golden Boy' only recently... Precisely in my fifth year, when Sirius, the only father figure I had ever known, fell through that blasted Veil at the Ministry of Magic. Most of the things I saw that night helped me to become my actual self.

I must say that year was the most eventful of my Hogwarts career so far, and that should mean something! After all, with the support of my best friends, I've knocked out a full grown mountain troll in my first year, I killed the basilisk in my second, saved Sirius and Buckbeak from certain death in my third, then I became the fourth champion in the Triwizard Tournament with all that followed that...

Ah, and we don't want to forget all my interaction with uncle Voldy... I suppose that after the night at the Ministry, the emblem of my personal failure, the pressure simply became too much for me to bear.

That year I saw all my little certainties collapse:

The blind trust in Dumbledore; he had omitted part of the truth that I had needed to know one time too many...

The friendship with Hermione and Ron; they couldn't understand that I was changing, that I bore too much on my shoulders to stay the same...

The great pride at the memory of my father and the Marauders; they were nothing more than bullies...

The appreciation for wizarding society; when I was eleven I believed becoming a wizard was the most wonderful thing I could hope for, but now I'm starting to think that I should probably reconsider the thought...

The animosity with Malfoy; that was one of the most upsetting certainties that collapsed. It was disconcerting to find the one I thought of as my nemesis was so alike me... In all those years I didn't think for one moment that Draco could wear a mask, that all his behaviour was nothing but an act. I should have known better. After all, all my life was a farce, so why it couldn't be the same for him? Simple, because I was too stupid and too afraid to lose the only friend I'd ever had and see behind the family feud in to which Ron dragged me. If I accepted Draco's hand back then, now I would probably have a true friend beside me and I wouldn't be alone to cope with my personal demons.

The hate for you, Professor, I couldn't hate you after all I'd seen in your pensieve... Not after seeing with my own eyes that my father and godfather were no different to Dudley and his gang. I know that if I were in your years here as your classmate, I'd have probably become another target of their innocent and harmless pranks. If it were not for the fact that I've always been a lot like my dad, I would have said you were my father... Fortunately after the end of the year year I've become more similar to my mum. I don't think I would have been able to look in the mirror and not see the arrogant look of James Potter and that scared me because I'm absolutely unlike him. I don't want be like him...

Now that I think about it, I never apologised for spying in your pensieve back then... However, I hope you will accept my apology now.

There are a lot of things I shouldn't have done in my relatively short life, and that was one of them. Don't look at me in that way, Professor. I'm not crazy, I'm not making fun of you and I'm definitely not stupid enough to lie to you...

After all, that incompetent toad, Dolores Umbridge, made sure I learnt not to lie. It's a shame that back then I wasn't lying at all, but I think that that quill of hers did its job...

Yeah, Professor, no need to tell me that that laugh was sarcastic, bitter and cynical, I know that myself, thank you very much. There's no need for your concern.

Anyway, all that doesn't matter anymore, right? I've already changed a lot. I'd been growing up and now I've grown up. I had to take care of myself and I did. I have to free the world from the threat of Voldemort and I'm going to do it. The only change is that now I know that I'm going to do it alone.

I finally realise that I'm the only one who'll face Voldemort in the end, not McGonagall, not Dumbledore, not even you Snape or Malfoy or any of the other fools that I once called friends.

None of them will do that. None of them will kill Voldemort once for good. I'm going to do it, and I'm going to do it just because all of them expect me to do it. I'm going to become a murderer just for their wellbeing.

I will be a murderer when all of this stops, and none of them can see that. None of them can see that little insignificant particular. I will be, as always, an icon. For all of them I will be a bloody hero; 'The saviour of the Wizarding World', 'The Most Powerful Wizard since Merlin himself'.

I don't want that! I don't want be a blasted, bloody hero! I don't want all they see in me to be that damned scar! I'm more than a scar. I'm more than an icon. I'm a person, why can't anybody but you and Draco see that?

You shouldn't be the one who can see it! You shouldn't! My friends should see that, not you two... not you two... why doesn't anybody else want to see beyond the façade the press built up?

Why won't anyone understand that I'm a person and not a model? Why can't I be normal? Why on earth is life always so unfair to me? Which god and goddess have I wronged to deserve this living hell? Tell me! Please, tell me so I can apologise and stop this nightmare.

I'm tired of this situation. I feel older than I should, I've lost that part of life which should be the most carefree and happy of one's life. Nobody will ever give me it back, and, more than likely, I'm going to lose my life in the upcoming battle. And don't try to deny that. The prophecy is clear, he or I, one of us has to die, and even in the case I should miraculously win I will be treated as nothing more than the tool I already know I am. I will be toss aside like a broken toy because no one needs me... I know all that, what I don't know is if it's correct to impose this life on someone.

Isn't this a bit too much to ask? Can't they see I'm only a teenager?

Why can't they understand that, all in all, if I survive, I'm not going to be better than him in the end?

Oh! Yes, sure, why I can't think of that early?

It's so simple...

It's because I'm the good guy...

It's because he's evil and because I'm fighting for the right side... Sorry, I mean the light side, we don't want to be so arrogant as to think our way is the correct one.

Hmmm, I suppose we could do that. After all, everyone from each side thinks his own side is the right one. Don't you agree?

Sorry, Professor, I'm rambling. I think I should go now. I'm sorry for bothering you. Now I've got some reading to do. I hope you don't mind too much if I go to the library, to the Restricted Section to be precise... if you wanted to know...

Well, I really need to do some rather important research. If you want to help me, you're welcome. If you only want to watch me while I'm working you can stay as well, I don't mind your silent company, Professor.

What was that look for? Why do you seem so surprised? Voldemort is not going to use a simple first year curse, he'll certainly use Dark Arts. How I am supposed to win against him if I don't even know what hexes he will cast at me?

He is not going to play nice. I need to know how to defend myself, and possibly how to get rid of him once for all. This forbidden knowledge is the most valuable thing at hand.

Don't look at me like I'm crazy. I'm only researching a way to win this damned war, and possibly live to tell the tale, and yes, of course I've learnt what I found before! What did you think I was doing all this time in the library, reading fairy tales?

He's a madman and he will not be upfront with us. I must know some of his tricks if I want to survive, which I can assure you I intend to.

Yeah, I know that Dumbledore wouldn't like what I'm doing, nor would 'Mione, but really they are the last of my problems right now. I've better things to do. I must be prepared for the upcoming battle, the final battle if all goes the way it should.

Anyway, only Merlin knows why they're bothered if I learn the so-called Dark Arts? It's not a spell itself that's good or evil, it's the intention of the caster that determines the nature of the spell, and this rules curse and hex as well, so why are they bothered? Why can't they stay out of my way? I'm going to do what they expect me to do, I'm going to kill Voldemort so they can have their goddamned happy ending. So, why are they so bothered about how I intend to do it?

What's their problem?

No, don't answer me, that was a rhetorical question to which I already know the answer: they're afraid I will become the next Dark Lord.

Foolish!

Can't they use those little brains of theirs? Is it too much to ask? If I had wanted to become the next Dark Lord, I would have taken the Dark Mark on my left forearm, I would have become one of his servants and after that I would have acted like a loyal, little Death Eater until he would have chosen me to become his heir.

And, frankly, even you must agree that it wouldn't have been an unlikely scenario.

I'm powerful, I know that I am. I'm even more powerful than Dumbledore himself, and Voldemort would have been more than pleased to have me as an ally. And, above all, if I was his ally he wouldn't have denied me to be his heir. That would have been a very advantageous agreement for him as well for me.

Now, please, Professor, go away. It's late and I'm sure you've better things to do than stay here and watch me while I'm preparing myself for, hopefully, the last battle of this long and stressful war.

If you really want to help, please go and ask Draco if he wants a little duel so we can both relax. If he agrees, please set aside a room in which we'll be able to use some of the nasty, but not very harmful, very satisfactory hexes that our dear headmaster considers Dark Arts...

Thank you, Professor, for all you have done for me in these years, I really appreciated and needed your help...

TBC...