The Boy-Who-Never-Was
Summer after first year
Coming downstairs into the sitting room, where Harry and Ron contended at wizard's chess-Ron's bishop was bashing a pawn with his crozier-I looked past them out the window. On the porch a freckled girl, ginger hair in twin braids, leaned again a post. Her eyes twitched between the boards at her feet and the dark-haired lad who was reaching for his remaining knight.
I called 'Hello' to the boys as I passed through. Harry made a vague gesture while Ron grunted (whether in greeting or indigestion I couldn't tell).
Out on the porch I sat on one of the reed-seated ladder chairs near the blushing girl, scooting it around so I could watch the boys inside while chatting with Ginevra. She glanced at me with a shy smile and nod. I decided that the time was right to make my own move, time for the chat that I had been planning.
"You're awfully shy around Harry. Maybe there's a bit of a crush, hm?"
Ginny drew in on herself and shrugged. "I can't help it. I want to talk to him, but he's the Boy-Who-Lived. How do I-"
"No, Ginny." I turned slightly to better look at the girl. "That's not the Boy-Who-Lived."
"But..."
"Oh, that's Harry Potter," I said, pointing at the young man frowning over the chess board. "But he's not the Boy-Who-Lived.
"The Boy-Who-Lived is a legend, an urban myth, an old wives' tale. It was created by writers and gossips who never met Harry, who knew nothing about him. It's a fiction that sells books and newspapers. It's an explanation for the mystery of You-Know-Who's destruction. It's the idea of a savior from the horrors of the Dark Times.
"And it's the lie of a protector who absolves the populace of the need to fight for themselves."
I moved my gaze to the dark-haired orphan and continued my explanation.
"But none of that applies to Harry Potter, not to the real Harry sitting there with your brother puzzling over his next move, not to the Harry Potter I met on the train with his broken glasses and hand-me-down rags. This Harry is a scrawny, shy, lonely lad who needs friends but never had any; who needs love but never received any; who needs to become himself but has no idea who that is and no idea how to become that person, or even that he could ever be a person that others could value. This Harry hates the notoriety of the Boy-Who-Lived; he craves a peaceful life. In him is no drive to be the questing hero. There's only a sense of worthlessness that convinces him to help those in danger because their lives have the significance that he fails to recognize in himself." Yes, he's my hero, I didn't add; no one else's.
Ginny looked at Harry with confusion on her brow.
"That's Harry. If you want to talk to him, if you want to become his friend, great. You don't need to be in awe of Harry; you certainly don't need to worship him. He isn't the Boy-Who-Lived you've read about and dreamed about. That's an unrelated, imaginary person.
"Harry over there-looks like he lost again-is no more wondrous than your brothers. Just without the ginger hair. Treat him like you would any other boy; like any other of your brothers' friends. He'll appreciate that. He'll appreciate another friend instead of another fan."
Ginny looked at the messy-haired, poorly dressed boy who was simply Ron's friend. Her expression changed to a pretty smile. She began to see a real boy in place of an unapproachable hero.
She nodded to me and walked inside to watch the boys as they started another game. Now I could only wait and see.
.
Three years later
"Squeeeee!" Ginny's squeal outmatched the steam whistle on the Hogwart's Express. She grabbed me and hugged me-fortunately without Mrs. Weasley's life-threatening upper body strength.
"I'm so happy for you! You two finally got together. C'mon." Ginny pulled me over to her bed, where we sat cross-legged with our knees almost touching. "Tellmetellme, Mi. What's snogging Harry like?"
I snorted. Typical Ginny Weasley. "Weeell, I have to say I like it."
"Duh! More detail, girlfriend."
"I don't know the words to describe a kiss, especially with someone so special. You'll just have to find out for yourself."
She leaned forward and rested her chin of the heel of one hand. "Oh?"
I gave her a stink-eye. "With someone else."
"Of course. Of course." Ginny giggled. So did I, if I'm honest.
I leaned over and placed my hand on hers. "Are you really all right with this, Gin? You had that crush-"
She straightened up and waved her hand back and forth. "Oh, that's all over. Once I got to know Harry, well... Honestly, I was a little disappointed.
"I'll always be grateful for the little talk you gave me three years ago. I really got to know Harry that summer, and he wasn't the BWL at all. Not at all who I'd been dreaming of for years.
"Yet because we were friends, and I could talk to him..."
I nodded. Harry had realized that something was wrong with Ginny, and that led to discovering the evil in Riddle's diary before anyone was harmed. Harry saved her, in a real sense, but as a friend instead of as a hero.
He's my hero; no one else's.
"Are you still waiting for a knight on a white charger?"
Her ginger hair flew back and forth as she shook her head. "Oh, no. I've grown out of that. And Harry and I are more like brother and sister. As if I needed another brother." She rolled her eyes.
"Hardly", I tittered. "But you are really good for Harry as a kid sister. You and Luna both. You're the siblings he should have had growing up, little girls to look out for and protect. And tease."
"Tell me about it." Ginny scrunched up her face. "How did he learn to become such a teaser?"
"You and me and Luna. We chivvied him out of his congenital moroseness."
"Yeah. From my point of view, he's much better as a buddy than a lover." Her smirk was quite suggestive. "It's different for you, yeah?"
I nodded as I leaned over and clasped Ginevra's hands. "I can't tell you how glad I am that you feel that way." Glad Ginny was a friend and not a rival. The talk I gave her at the Burrow was a gamble, but I'd read Ginny correctly and won the long game. Now I wouldn't have to use harsher methods to keep her away from my Harry.
"Then, since you support Harmione,"-dual giggles-"I need your help with a little problem."
"Sure. Whatever you need."
Leaning close to Ginny, I asked softly, "Do you know a chit named 'Romilda Vane'?"