Just a little drabble I thought of when it was way too late. Don't own.

The door to the Astronomy Tower opened, and Harry heard the sharp intake of breath as whoever just entered saw him sitting on the railing, looking ready to fall.

''Protego!'' she person quickly said, and a shield appeared in front of him. He didn't pay attention to it, his eyes locked on the Dog constellation.

''Hello, Professor,'' he murmured, greeting his Potions teacher. Silence fell again, Snape waiting for the boy to say anything. Harry did.

''Everybody always told me that one day, I would find my happiness,'' he said to himself. ''My librarian first told me that when she saw me borrowing a book on how to heal bruises. My teacher once told me that. Everyone here says it.

''But now I've just heard that I might not even reach that day. And why? Because the world expects me to fight for it. Because the people are too focused on their hero, that no one sees the truth. Anyone can kill him, you know.''

Snape didn't say anything, moving a bit closer. ''Potter-'' he started.

''You're the first person not to see a scar,'' the boy interrupted him. ''Everyone else always sees it. I'm not Harry Potter anymore. I'm the Boy Who Lived.

''All my life, I've tried to please others. I never complained when my uncle beat me. I never blinked twice when Dumbledore set me up to save the stone.

''But I think, that in pleasing others, I lost myself. I lost who I was and tried to become what everyone wanted me to be.''

He leaned forward, kicking his feet. Snape held his breath, but Harry didn't jump.

''Potter,'' he started again. ''Come off there.''

Harry looked at him with focused eyes. ''No,'' he said, before smiling happily. ''There, I did it. I wanted to come off and please you. Instead I stayed on and was happy with myself.'' He giggled.

''You see, professor, I've changed. When Hagrid first told me I was a wizard, I said 'I can't be. I'm Harry … just Harry.' And you know what? I'd like to be Just Harry again. But now, I can't be.

''I'm Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily. I'm the Boy Who Lived. I'm Voldemort's enemy. I'm the Ministry's enemy.

''I'm not Harry.''

He leaned forward some more, determined.

''Even you saw me as James Potter's son. But at least, you never expected more from me than is humanly possible. Thanks for that, sir.'' He looked up and smiled briefly.

''I won't fight for the Wizarding World,'' he said strongly. ''I won't fight for those who cannot save themselves. I will not be someone else any longer. Please, sir, on my gravestone, don't put Harry James Potter. Put Just Harry.''

With that, he let go of the railing, fell through the shield, and pummelled to his ultimate demise, a happy smile on his face.