The Boy Who Didn't Live
One-shot
You had always been a best friend to me. You had always been the best friend. From the moment I saw you on the Hogwarts Express at the age of eleven and I muttered something along the lines of ‘Blimey, you’re Harry Potter’ and you showed me your scar.
You were my best friend.
We did everything together, homework included – well, we copied Hermione’s homework together. She was always the clever one out of the three of us.
You had to live up to a certain expectation of you – after all, you survived the Avada Kedavara curse, at the age of two, you survived You-Know-Who. I think, sometimes though, you were a bit too big headed for your own good – you thought you could defeat him. I mean, you wanted to do things alone, you were the one who fought the most – Hermione and I were sort of left out a bit.
Just walking down a corridor, people would start pointing and whispering about you. People would come up and ogle at you, asking if you were really Harry Potter. Of course you were!
But if I walked down a corridor, it would be Harry this, Harry that, ‘Merlin’s beard, do you really know Harry Potter?’ Of course I knew Harry Potter! Harry Potter is my best friend, as I hope I was his.
Then came our second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, people started to come to terms with the fact that you were, indeed, Harry Potter – and people came to grips with the fact that I was your best friend. I didn’t like it though; the way people would look at you. You were my best friend, not theirs.
You started hearing voices, in our second year, and that’s when you really found out you were Parcel Tongue. You could talk to snakes. People no longer spoke to you as they were scared – they would back away if you came to close to them and I started to feel bad for you. Harry Potter, the famous twelve year old was hated because he was like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. But then things started to make sense - the voices in the wall. We found the ripped out book page with the answers in Hermione’s petrified hand. She had scribbled one word on that book page – the one word that explained exactly how the Basilisk had managed to get around the castle, petrifying anybody in its way. Pipes. Hermione’s a genius.
We managed to get into the Chamber of Secrets; it was all down to your ability to talk to snakes in the end – that’s what opened the doors, all the locks inside of the chamber. We found Ginny – well you did – my sister. You found her. You. You, Harry Potter, were the hero. Not me. She was my own sister, and you saved her.
I think the third year was probably your happiest. You found out you had a God father. A man your parents had left to look after you – your father’s best friend. How great was that? A man who was best friends with your father could now look after you. Not so good. That man was a prisoner. He had escaped from Azkaban. Even though we knew he was innocent, that’s not what the Ministry of Magic thought. Sirius Black was still a murderer, and he was your God Father. But we managed it. We managed to get him to safety, he ended up flying off with Buckbeak – yet another we had managed to set free. Hagrid’s Buckbeak was now free.
Then was the Triwizard Tournament. I thought you had lied to me – you had put your name into the Goblet without telling me how I would have been able to get mine in. Oh, I was so angry with you. You had lied; you had betrayed me in fact. I thought we were friends. But it turns out, as always, I was wrong. Someone had managed to slip your name into the Goblet without anyone knowing, turns out that person was a Death Eater.
Of course, it makes sense to do it. Slip your name in, the Trophy was a Port Key and it would take you to where You-Know-Who was waiting for you. But yet again, you were not the one who died. No, this time it was Cedric Diggory. You felt horrible about it, as if it was your fault. Of course it wasn’t! You told me yourself neither could decide who should take the trophy – so you both did. And it ended with Cedric dying and yet again, you escaping the Dark Lord.
I didn’t understand how you managed to, something about your wands was all I could manage to make out and somehow you had seen your mother and your father, telling you to run. So you did. And you made it.
Dumbledore and some other wizards – my parents included – formed an order, and order to find out exactly what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Names was plotting. Of course, we all knew it was something about you. You found it completely unfair that you were not allowed to be in the order – after all, you were Harry Potter. But, never the less, you weren’t. You weren’t of age, so you weren’t allowed. Yep, that’s what Mum said.
Then it was Sirius’ death. The only remaining ‘family’ you had left. Your God Father, your own father’s best friend – was now gone. I don’t really know how you felt about that, I had never lost all of the members of my family; I didn’t know how to relate to it – making me feel like a bad friend, not being able to help. But we got on.
Then came the year Dumbledore died. Turns out Severus Snape wasn’t on our side, and kills Albus Dumbledore. The greatest headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen. That was the worst. I think you blamed yourself, in a way, for Dumbledore’s death. I never understood why you did, but you did – and I couldn’t do anything about that. We knew now that we could not use Grimmald Place as a base for the Order as Snape knew how to get in, and probably told You-Know-Who how to as well. So that place was out of the question.
You went back to the Muggles, as always in the summer and we devised a plan to come and get you. That’s where it all went wrong. The plan. The side cart you were in that was attached to Sirius’ motorbike had become attached and you were plummeting to the ground. That’s when it happened. You-Know-Who turned up. You didn’t know what to do, you were either going to fall to your death or have He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named do it for you in a painless way. You chose the painless way. You didn’t do anything. You died. Hagrid told me what had happened, he was sobbing too loudly and too hard, but I understood. I too, was in tears when I found out.
The Boy Who Lived, died.
Did you like it? *cringes*
-I left out the Quidditch World Cup, I realize that
You were my best friend.
We did everything together, homework included – well, we copied Hermione’s homework together. She was always the clever one out of the three of us.
You had to live up to a certain expectation of you – after all, you survived the Avada Kedavara curse, at the age of two, you survived You-Know-Who. I think, sometimes though, you were a bit too big headed for your own good – you thought you could defeat him. I mean, you wanted to do things alone, you were the one who fought the most – Hermione and I were sort of left out a bit.
Just walking down a corridor, people would start pointing and whispering about you. People would come up and ogle at you, asking if you were really Harry Potter. Of course you were!
But if I walked down a corridor, it would be Harry this, Harry that, ‘Merlin’s beard, do you really know Harry Potter?’ Of course I knew Harry Potter! Harry Potter is my best friend, as I hope I was his.
Then came our second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, people started to come to terms with the fact that you were, indeed, Harry Potter – and people came to grips with the fact that I was your best friend. I didn’t like it though; the way people would look at you. You were my best friend, not theirs.
You started hearing voices, in our second year, and that’s when you really found out you were Parcel Tongue. You could talk to snakes. People no longer spoke to you as they were scared – they would back away if you came to close to them and I started to feel bad for you. Harry Potter, the famous twelve year old was hated because he was like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. But then things started to make sense - the voices in the wall. We found the ripped out book page with the answers in Hermione’s petrified hand. She had scribbled one word on that book page – the one word that explained exactly how the Basilisk had managed to get around the castle, petrifying anybody in its way. Pipes. Hermione’s a genius.
We managed to get into the Chamber of Secrets; it was all down to your ability to talk to snakes in the end – that’s what opened the doors, all the locks inside of the chamber. We found Ginny – well you did – my sister. You found her. You. You, Harry Potter, were the hero. Not me. She was my own sister, and you saved her.
I think the third year was probably your happiest. You found out you had a God father. A man your parents had left to look after you – your father’s best friend. How great was that? A man who was best friends with your father could now look after you. Not so good. That man was a prisoner. He had escaped from Azkaban. Even though we knew he was innocent, that’s not what the Ministry of Magic thought. Sirius Black was still a murderer, and he was your God Father. But we managed it. We managed to get him to safety, he ended up flying off with Buckbeak – yet another we had managed to set free. Hagrid’s Buckbeak was now free.
Then was the Triwizard Tournament. I thought you had lied to me – you had put your name into the Goblet without telling me how I would have been able to get mine in. Oh, I was so angry with you. You had lied; you had betrayed me in fact. I thought we were friends. But it turns out, as always, I was wrong. Someone had managed to slip your name into the Goblet without anyone knowing, turns out that person was a Death Eater.
Of course, it makes sense to do it. Slip your name in, the Trophy was a Port Key and it would take you to where You-Know-Who was waiting for you. But yet again, you were not the one who died. No, this time it was Cedric Diggory. You felt horrible about it, as if it was your fault. Of course it wasn’t! You told me yourself neither could decide who should take the trophy – so you both did. And it ended with Cedric dying and yet again, you escaping the Dark Lord.
I didn’t understand how you managed to, something about your wands was all I could manage to make out and somehow you had seen your mother and your father, telling you to run. So you did. And you made it.
Dumbledore and some other wizards – my parents included – formed an order, and order to find out exactly what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Names was plotting. Of course, we all knew it was something about you. You found it completely unfair that you were not allowed to be in the order – after all, you were Harry Potter. But, never the less, you weren’t. You weren’t of age, so you weren’t allowed. Yep, that’s what Mum said.
Then it was Sirius’ death. The only remaining ‘family’ you had left. Your God Father, your own father’s best friend – was now gone. I don’t really know how you felt about that, I had never lost all of the members of my family; I didn’t know how to relate to it – making me feel like a bad friend, not being able to help. But we got on.
Then came the year Dumbledore died. Turns out Severus Snape wasn’t on our side, and kills Albus Dumbledore. The greatest headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen. That was the worst. I think you blamed yourself, in a way, for Dumbledore’s death. I never understood why you did, but you did – and I couldn’t do anything about that. We knew now that we could not use Grimmald Place as a base for the Order as Snape knew how to get in, and probably told You-Know-Who how to as well. So that place was out of the question.
You went back to the Muggles, as always in the summer and we devised a plan to come and get you. That’s where it all went wrong. The plan. The side cart you were in that was attached to Sirius’ motorbike had become attached and you were plummeting to the ground. That’s when it happened. You-Know-Who turned up. You didn’t know what to do, you were either going to fall to your death or have He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named do it for you in a painless way. You chose the painless way. You didn’t do anything. You died. Hagrid told me what had happened, he was sobbing too loudly and too hard, but I understood. I too, was in tears when I found out.
The Boy Who Lived, died.
Did you like it? *cringes*
-I left out the Quidditch World Cup, I realize that