The Boy Who Really Lived

The Boy Who Really Lived

By then, their romance had been reduced to a simple fairy tale. And while Cinderella and her prince did live Happily Ever After. The point, gentlemen, is that they lived. ~Ever After

Harry Potter is not a normal boy. This fact has been established many times. He is known in the press as 'The Boy Who Lived.'

If only they knew.

Ending Voldemort's life was like the closing sentence in the first chapter of his life. True, he lay in the hospital bed for days after, muttering about making choices. But then when he was released...well. He was exuberant and ready to move on, eager to begin anew. He was simply waiting for something new to sweep him up into another adventure. But life had other plans.

Who would've thought that Harry Potter would end up a thirty-something with a dead end job and no wife? Where were the girls now? Why wouldn't his good looks have saved him? Harry Potter now works in a department with a long name that confuses people and makes it seem important. But it's not. His long time friends have long since married one another and started a family. They worry about him and do nothing, for raising five kids is more taxing than you think. They invite him over for dinner and make mindless chit-chat. And every day Harry Potter slips further away.

He no longer worries about what people will write about him in the papers. They hardly even wonder about him anymore. He is a meaningless name, locked away in a dusty tomb, waiting for some bookworm to discover his name and wonder about his life. If Hermione's children ever read books. Ron seems very content to let them play Quidditch and never learn to read. But Hermione has a plan to remedy this. She told Harry so.

Harry had not even thought about the girls from school. He once saw Cho in Diagon Alley. But she did not see him. Few people ever see Harry Potter anymore. I mean, really see him. But Ginevra did.

Ginevra was a fellow thirty-something. The difference was she loved it. Ginevra finds wonders in seemingly dull items. Like Harry's watch. She got it for him for...well actually, there was no occasion. Ginevra and Harry are terrible with dates. One week she missed their date because she thought it had been last week. They both called to complain to Hermione, who called them silly nitwits and made them both Floo to her house. They ended up leaving the house and walking. Just walking...not saying much, just walking and completing each others company.

Harry bought Ginevra a ferret for her birthday. Later they found out it was Ron's birthday. Ginny laughed anyway and named the ferret Malfoy. A few weeks later they figured out that Malfoy was blind. Harry found that particularly funny.

Harry James Potter and Ginevra Molly Weasley were married one Friday afternoon when the weather was warm but it was still too cold to go swimming. Harry and Ginny jumped into the lake anyway. Many magical things happened that day. The poppies bloomed that day, Harry buried his past, and Ginny learned what a garter was. Later they danced around the not-so-moved-into living room. Harry learned to dance and Ginny learned where to find the aspirin in the house. But that dance was special. Just them and the fire and the thunder storm outside. In the big empty house Ginny wanted to fill with children. But there would be no children. Ginny was infertile. So they adopted.

Big blue eyed boys, red haired girls, and one green-eyed child they named James. Their oldest was named Sirius. Now their children are old and grown, and have children of their own. Harry saw them all yesterday.

Yesterday Ginny died.

Albus did the service. He asked everyone to write down something they were going to miss about Ginny.

Sirius was going to miss her chocolate chip pancakes, Mrs. Weasley her smile, James the way she chased away the night boggarts, Ron her fiery independence, Hermione her listening habits. The list went on and on. Mrs. Wealsey had to be removed so she could gather her thoughts in peace.

"One more," Albus said, his voice sad, but his eyes twinkling, "I will miss the way she lived."

There was no name. Everyone knew.

Harry stills rises early in the morning. He walks in parks alone, thinking out loud. He knows Ginny would like that. He still plants poppies by the kitchen window, right where she could see them. And every day he lives. Really lives.