Happy 34th Birthday to the Boy Who Lived! I know this is probably a bit "angsty" for a birthday present, but I thought the idea was too interesting not to write. It also happens to be Queen Jo's birthday and she is responsible for the fantastic characters that have made a home in our hearts for so many years. I write because she has inspired me with her stories.

"I think you've made a mistake. I mean, I... can't be a... a wizard. I mean, I'm... just... Harry. Just Harry."

"Well, "Just Harry"... did you ever make anything happen? Anything you couldn't explain when you were angry or scared?"

Harry looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at him.

"See?" said Hagrid. "Harry Potter, not a wizard— you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

— Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone Film

& Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, pg. 58 (US)

Harry needed to escape, but there was no way out. It had been three weeks since Tom Riddle was finally defeated and already the world had changed irreparably. The naivety that his life would be easier once he was rid of Voldemort was almost comical. He would have laughed if he could have mustered it. His heart and mind were too weighted with guilt. It had become exhausting. He was taking advantage of the Weasleys' hospitality. He felt like he was trespassing on their grief at best and was directly responsible for their loss at worst.

Although she attempted to put on a brave face for her family, there were times when Mrs. Weasley couldn't hold back her tears any longer. Each stifled sob made his stomach drop like a boulder to his toes. George locked himself in his room most of the time, but when he was present at meals, Harry found it difficult to meet his eye. George would have reminded him of his lost twin except that Fred had never looked that haggard or haunted. Ron and Hermione were finding comfort in each other although it was at the expense of their friendship with Harry. He was happy for them— really he was. His best friends' romance was brand new and yet it had been a long time coming. There had been a brief discussion about whether they would all go to Australia together to restore Hermione's parents, but Harry had hastily declined. He didn't want to intrude. Percy had announced at dinner that he had secured the proper port keys for the couple. Ron and Hermione would be setting off on their journey in a few days. "The Golden Trio" would become a duo for the first time. Rita Skeeter would have a field day if she ever found out.

Harry found that he was trapped between the Weasleys and the rest of Wizarding World. Kingsley had ordered him into seclusion for his protection. Harry had resisted the idea at first. He wanted to get involved with the rebuilding. Only a few days after the Final Battle, he quickly saw Kingsley's point. The press had been ravenous for their time with the Boy Who Lived. Even with the extra wards placed around the Burrow, reporters still roamed the edges of the property. Not that they could see anything. The Weasley residence was safely concealed from public view by a powerful disillusionment charm. Still, the situation had become so worrisome that the Ministry had begun sorting through his fan mail for cursed packages and death threats. It was mostly love letters from galleon digging witches anyway. Like he would give them a second glance. They only wanted him for his fame. Besides, there was only one witch he truly wanted.

Sometimes he wondered what his life would have been like if Hagrid had never come for him that fateful night. Would he be happily living as an oblivious Muggle without any knowledge of the magical world? They were calling him the Savior of the Wizarding World. But they were wrong. He hadn't been enough. He hadn't been able to save Lupin or Tonks or Fred or Colin or the many others who had given their lives. They were the true heroes. All Harry knew was that he was tired. He was tired of everyone's expectations. He was tired of playing the hero. No one truly understood nor could he ask anyone to. Above all, he was tired of being a burden.

It had all come to a head when Ron had jolted awake from a night terror. "Probably about Malfoy Manor," Harry thought bitterly. It was more pain that he was responsible for. Ron had only been gulping in breaths for a few seconds before Hermione came bursting through the door. She was at his side almost instantaneously. She swept his sweaty bangs from his face as he continued to take in shaky breaths.

"Shhh… it was only a nightmare," she soothed. Ron pulled her into a desperate embrace; his face buried into her bushy hair. He was muttering something, but Harry couldn't catch it. Hermione stroked his back.

"I'm right here. We're alive. Shhhh…"

Harry felt suffocated by the guilt. He needed to get out. Quietly, he crept out of Ron's bedroom and left the couple to heal each other. In the early hours, a mist had settled over the fields surrounding the Burrow. Harry decided to clear his head and wander within the Weasleys' protective wards. Daylight began to creep over the horizon, but he didn't feel any lighter than earlier. The fresh air was doing nothing for his lungs, which felt as though they were squeezed in a vise. It was then that he saw her; approaching with the coming dawn. The sun backlit her ginger hair making her head appear to be crowned with flames. What little air he had was taken away at the sight of her.

In the aftermath of the battle, he had hoped that he and Ginny would have found an opportunity to talk. But she had been mourning Fred's death and needed to spend time with her family. Then when the funerals were over, the silence between them remained. Harry always had a difficult time finding the right words to say. How could he begin to describe all he felt and had experienced this past year? Besides, Ginny was probably better off without his drama. Having the name "Harry Potter" brought on too many complications for even him to deal with. She didn't know what she would be signing up for by being in a relationship with him. He had to tell her to move on for her own sake— But how?

"I saw you come outside."

"Yeah, I just needed some air."

"Right."

She sounded dubious. He couldn't even lie and say that his feelings had changed. She would see right through it. He had never really mastered Occlumency like he should have. How could he let her go when he needed her so fundamentally that it was painful to imagine being without her? But how could he be so selfish to ask her to stay with him? He was a bloody mess. She had enough to deal with without him weighing her down. She deserved to have a full life even if it was without him in it. He didn't want to hurt her further, but the temporary heartbreak would be better for her in the end.

Ginny seemed to realize that words were failing him so she beat him to the punch.

"Harry, we don't talk and I hate it. Hermione told me that you just need time, but I have to say something or I'm pretty sure it'll never be the right moment. This mess is not your fault. And you aren't doing anyone any favors by blaming yourself. Especially me. You need to get over yourself and realize that we all made our own choices. And now you have the freedom to make choices too. Just tell me what you want! I thought we had an understanding, but every time we're in the same room together, I feel like we're worlds apart. Yes, we lost Fred, but we have to keep on living. I want to move on, but I can't. Not until I know. Not until you're honest with me."

Harry stared at his feet. He was so ashamed with himself. If only she knew that it was taking everything in his power not to meet her gaze; to find himself trapped inside her blazing look.

"Will you look at me?" She captured his attention. Slowly he glanced up at her. Her hazel eyes sparked with a fire that ignited his insides.

"I love you, Harry Potter."

She stated it with such sincerity and conviction that there was no doubt. He knew that she didn't love him for his surname. She didn't love him for being chosen out of thousands. She didn't love him for surviving a curse that no one had lived through to tell the tale. She loved him for the simple fact that he was Harry. Ron's friend who visited over the summer holidays. The boy who brooded until she snapped him back to reality. The boy who threw himself headlong into dangerous situations. He had been so stupid. Why hadn't he seen it before? This beautiful, courageous woman saw him for who he truly was and loved him anyway. Ginny Weasley brought out the best in him even when he thought there was nothing left. How could he have even considered walking away from her?

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Do something about it."

Ginny's face said it all. The quaffle was in his court. Harry compulsively reached for her; sweeping her gorgeous hair back. She remained patiently still. He had to be the one to move now. He tentatively pressed his lips to hers and she finally responded. Here was the easy relationship that they had before. Here he was home. He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers.

"I love you, Ginny. I don't want to try and get through this on my own. I don't think I can. I know I'm difficult to deal with, but I want to be with you. I want to be there for you. I want… to be everything you need."

She was grinning unabashedly for the first time in a long time. She shook her head with a small chuckle. "You can be such an idiot. What I need is you to be who you already are. Just be Harry."

He smiled against her lips. "I think I can manage that."

As always, reviews are much appreciated :)