The Name Game

Harry has always been too appreciative of heroic deeds, Ginny thinks. He was born to parents who thrice escaped and thrice defied Voldemort, parents who died in a flash of 'spirit, fire and dew', parents whom he glorifies and defends in a way that is astonishing when you remember he never knew them.

But, in a way, it is to be expected.

He grew up in a stifling environment, with people whose greatest desire was to be utterly ordinary, and who viewed him as the only barrier preventing them from reaching that ideal. In a constant act of rebellion, he learnt to dismiss the everyday and cling to the wonderful, the awe-inspiring, the fantastic, because how else was he supposed to cope?

Ron may think of himself as mediocre, but he is so much more than that in Harry's eyes – a constant source of amazement, a guide to assimilation into the wizarding world. He is friendly, funny, loyal and brave without the showy bravado. What other eleven-year-old would sacrifice himself in a giant game of wizard chess without a second thought? And he is also Harry's best friend.

Hermione, meanwhile, is the voice of reason, the one whose power and intellect is so honed that she constantly surprises them with her impressive hoard of knowledge, leading every single one of her classmates to call her a know-it-all (and Ron at least twice a week). Smart, sensible, courageous, ambitious, willing to break rules for the sake of her friends – she does not mean to make herself known, but cannot avoid it.

But Harry views himself as ordinary, the everyman. It will take him a long time to realise – to fully know just how extraordinary he is. Even then, he does not quite believe it. 'That was different … I had help … Anyone could have done it!'

At fifteen, he shies away from a girl who has completely understandable reactions (one would only have to be human to cry constantly after the sudden, traumatising death of her boyfriend). Instead, he falls in love with a fire-brand of a woman, least of all because of her bright red hair and mostly because of her whole demeanour. Bold and fearless, she keeps him grounded in reality, yet takes him to places he has never been.

And while Harry will remain forever fond of people like Lupin, Hagrid and even Ginny's own parents, they're not the ones he glorifies through fond remembrances and cherished truths. Lupin died as quietly as he lived: another fighter in the Battle of Hogwarts; Hagrid – Harry's first friend – remains whole in body and amiable in spirit; Arthur and Molly Weasley, though undoubtedly surrogate parents to Harry, hardly swooped out of nowhere with a tantalising hint of adventure – I'm your godfather; you can escape the Dursleys and come and live with me! How about that?

But it's Ginny who notices the ones Harry passes over – it is through Ginny that Harry becomes close friends with Neville and Luna. While Harry, Ron and Hermione are away saving the world, the three of them – the manipulated, the bullied, the forgotten – revive Dumbledore's Army, launching a campaign against the Carrows and everything the Dark Lord stands for.

It's in Harry's nature to glorify the boldness that has taken him to where he is now, so he unconsciously passes over the mundane, the unassuming, leaving Ginny to see those he does not.

They name their first child James Sirius.

Ginny has never been a great hand for names – she was the one who named her brother's featherball of an owl Pigwidgeon, after all. And so, when she tells Harry that he can choose what they will call their first child, he picks the names of his father and godfather, who died in a blaze of glory, both defending him until the last. There's no doubt that they are worthy enough to be bestowed on their child, and yet … well, she's not bothered, so she lets it go.

And then, when Harry approaches Ginny while she is pregnant with their second child, and suggests the name Albus Severus (they already know this one will be another boy), she agrees again. She knows it's the right decision, even though her stomach gave a jolt upon hearing the name Severus – has Harry forgotten the many hours of torment he endured under Snape's command in Potions and Occlumency classes? To err is human; there is no doubt that Snape erred many times; to forgive is – well, not divine, just extraordinarily difficult to 'be the bigger man'. But if Harry can see nothing to forgive in Albus Dumbledore, perhaps the name Severus is not such an unexpected suggestion after all.

Because Harry has always, always been kind and forgiving. Like his mother, say those who knew him.

It comes as no surprise, two years later, when they are again talking over baby names – this time girl names, because they've both got a hunch she will be a girl – and Harry suggests the name Lily.

'For my mum,' he says, unnecessarily. 'But that's as far as I've got.'

'Wait – I've an idea,' Ginny answers. 'How about Luna?'

She sees the surprise in Harry's eyes, the stark realisation that goes 'I didn't even think of that!' And she knows why.

There's no telling what middle name he might have suggested. James and Lily were the defenders; Sirius, the guardian; Albus, the guide; and Severus, the protector; but by now Ginny has run out of possibilities. Luna is funny and insightful and wise and every bit a perfect candidate. They might have gone for the slightly stodgy Minerva – defender of Hogwarts and its students – but two names belonging to teachers are enough.

It is easy to raise a shrine to the dead. But Harry has trouble applying it to the living.