Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Well here is another little one shot from me. I hope you all enjoy it.
Thanks to DebsTheSlytherinSnapeFan, this is for you.
My name is Harry James Potter, and I am a fifteen years old wizard, to most people I am still a child, but to be honest I don't feel like a child, I don't think I have ever been a child. To some I am a freak of nature, to others I am the Golden Boy of Gryffindor, or even The-Boy-Who-Lived, to others I am nothing but a weapon, one that is to be wielded against Voldemort. To kill him, it is my destiny, my future, the only one I have.
My relatives, the only remaining living family that I have, think of me as the freak, someone to ignore at best and to neglect and shout abuse at, at the worst. Sometimes I wish I had never even heard of the word magic, or wizard, or even of the Wizarding World, wishing that I had never heard of Hogwarts. Then maybe, just maybe, I would be ordinary Harry Potter.
When other children were dreaming of what they would be getting for their birthday's or Christmas, I was hoping against hope that someone would come for me, someone I could call family, that maybe my parents were alive and that the Dursley's had kidnapped me or something silly, it never happened, but I wished for it.
All I have ever wanted in my life was to be left alone, to be normal, and to fit in wherever I went. I never had that while at the Dursley's. I had thought I had found a place to call my home when I reached Hogwarts, but even that dream was dashed after a few moments. My dreams of family coming to rescue me were shattered, and I learned of a whole new world, I finally thought I was free of the Dursley's. I could tell someone, about the cupboard, the lack of food, the verbal abuse, never being able to play, and always chores, as well as the beating I occasionally suffered. It was moments later, the same day that I learned of the Wizarding World that I realised I could not say a word, I was famous, the symbol of light, all that is good in the world. I was stuck, not able to say anything, because I was to be some supposed hero, strong, pampered, spoilt. In stead I am ordinary, weak, neglected and abused.
Sometimes, when things get really hard, I wish I had died with my parents, but then I think of my friends, Ron and Hermione, and those that I call family, the Weasley's, now, and I am glad, and happy that I am still alive, if only I get a hug of Mrs Weasley, or even a Weasley Jumper at Christmas, it shows that there is someone out there that cares.
To the Wizarding world I am their hope, their saviour from the evil that is Voldemort. One minute I am their pride and joy, the next I am an attention seeking lunatic. It all depends on what the Daily Prophet writes about me. My friends and I ignore it as best as we can, though a few of our classmates, believe the lies printed within the rag.
To my friends, I am not sure what I am, someone to hang around with, maybe to play Quidditch with, or someone who will be protecting their families. I just hope when the time comes, that Hermione and Ron will be standing next to me, fighting to protect the others behind us.
They have both stood by me for so long, though Ron has turned on me once, though he came back after having a good long think about things, and realising that my very life was on the line during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I like to think they would be with me when the times comes to face Voldemort, I know they are afraid, but they do have that Gryffindor courage, I see it every time we go and do something dangerous.
Now comes Dumbledore, he is the one who I think, thinks of me as a weapon. He is the one who placed me with the Dursley's. He is the one who helped me figure out, in first year, what was going on with the philosophers stone, he gave me my invisibility cloak so I could search around, and see the things that I needed to see to put the clues together. He goes when he is most needed, as though training me for the final battle with Voldemort. I will show him one day that I am more than a weapon, a tool for him to use to fix the mistakes of the Wizarding World.
My first year was amazing, don't get me wrong, it was a dream come true, I though I was home, finally, after so long. Dumbledore started to mould me into a weapon, and I didn't realise. I didn't realise until I was about twelve, and Dumbledore asked me in his office if there was anything I wanted to tell him, almost four years ago now. At that point I was no longer a carefree child, I was his pawn, a weapon for him to mould into his own way, to use in his own way.
I know Ron and Hermione can see it, but even they do not know what to do about it, to get it to stop. They know no one would believe what Dumbledore was doing to me. People don't want to see a manipulating old fool, but the kind wise headmaster, an icon for the light, much like me.
If it wasn't for the friends that I have made in this world I would have left at the tender age of eleven and taken my chance in living within the Muggle World. I cannot leave, not even now. I don't want to disappoint ,y parents, they died to save me, I will not let that be in vain, I will kill Voldemort for them, for my friends, and for those that I know call family. For the ones that love me for who I am.
Well I hope you have enjoyed this one, please read and review.
If there are any mistakes please tell me, so I can correct them.