They Who Fought

They tell me I'm a hero. They tell me I saved the world. But I could not have done it without those warriors who were not hailed as heroes. I could not have done it without them, the ones only I remember to acknowledge. I'm labeled a hero only because of a prophecy, my birthday, and my brave parents. I have done what I was born to do. Lord Voldemort is dead. Yes, I'm still The Boy Who Lived. I have cheated death one more time. What more can I offer this rejoicing world? I'm just a false god, someone to call on whenever something goes wrong. Nothing more.

I am Harry Potter.

I fought my destiny.

I fought. I fought just as hard as any auror. But still, I'm considered a child. A baby. A little girl. Am I fated to always have to fight to be noticed? Even though my mother prayed for a girl and was ecstatic when I joined her brood I always seemed to be buried unnoticed under a heap of older brothers and their tricks and problems and messes. And then even when Harry, Hermione and Ron started to include me, I was still Little Ginny and they were the Golden Trio. Maybe someday I will rise above my brothers. I love them, yes. But it's hard to follow in the footsteps of heroes.

I am Ginevra Weasley.

I fought my birth.

Oh, you're a Slytherin! You must be evil! That's what I hear. The stereotypes. The fear and fight in their eyes. Daring me to make a wrong move. I am well overdue to receive my Mark, my father tells me. I suppose soon I will have to tell him the truth. That I never want to be marked by the Dark Lord. That I want to be free. That I joined the side of good. Like some of my relatives. The ones he calls dirt and I respect for their bravery. Aunt Andromeda. Sirius. Nymphadora. I saw what happened to Aunt Bellatrix. What Longbottom did to her. Does he think I want to end up like that? No thank you.

I am Draco Malfoy.

I fought the expectations.

I wonder now what would have happened if I hadn't been hiding in the girl's bathroom when Professor Quirrel let the troll into the castle. What would have happened if I never had made friends with Ron and Harry? My life would be completely different. I don't think I would have had the courage to fight in the Final Battle without the thought that they were there for me. I am brave. I know that now. I'm a Gryffindor after all. But a battle like that calls for something beyond courage, beyond bravery. Something like love. Pure, true, and faithful. But still I feel numbing fear. And numbing sadness thinking of the love I lost in battle.

I am Hermione Granger

I fought my fear.

We fought.

We fought together.

United.

For one man who was only there in spirit.

One man who had been struck down because he loved good with all his heart.

I fought for my friend.

I fought for my brother.

I fought for my enemy.

I fought for my love.

We fought.

We fought for Ron Weasley.

And we won with him watching over us.