hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2002-09-25 10:21 am
hackthis_archive) wrote2002-09-25 10:21 am
I want that ship.
They played Coldplay’s ‘In My Place’ in the SV episode. If you consider that a spoiler, oh well, whoops.
I normally don’t think much of what I write, but I like this.
ethrosdemon: Harry who was too famous to believe anyone ever would love him for him.
hackthis: oh, god can i write this please? angsting harry who will never ever trust anyone enough [to] think that they love him for his sorry self and not the legend. i shall call it 'the legend of a boy.' yes, okay. happy now.
ethrosdemon: Strangely enough, I don't see this fic anywhere yet. Huh. When you're not being worked to death, you should make it.
The Legend of a Boy
for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ethrosdemon
+++
The problem with being a legend is that it leaves very little room for error.
Being a legend doesn’t come with a DIY or How-To guide.
Harry has had to make it all up as he goes along. He’s made mistakes.
Harry’s tried to fall in love.
Of course, what else is it to be expected? Most legends are dead, and Harry isn’t. Harry is very much alive and battle-scarred and only twenty-two. Harry’s killed and maimed and tortured people he went to school with.
According to popular lore, Harry is a hero.
Harry doesn’t see things that way. He doesn’t think he’s a hero.
Legends don’t doubt themselves. Legends aren’t fallible.
Legends get everything presented to them on silver platters, adorned with bits and baubles and silver ribbons. Legends conquer dragons with a single word and defeat foes with a blink of an eye.
Legends are omnipotent and worldly. They are suave and charismatic. Harry’s still a virgin, and he’s had other things on his mind.
He tends to forget to put the loo seat down, and he hates doing his washing up. Harry tends to snore when it’s hot out, and he’s been known to drink the last of the milk and leave the empty carton in the fridge. Of course, he only complicates matters for himself because he lives alone.
Harry likes living alone because it’s nice to have a wank in peace for change.
Legends aren’t supposed to get lonely.
Harry has Hedwig and two fish – Sirius and Remus – that live inside a plant-covered vase to deter Hedwig from any thoughts of fresh fish. Harry has friends and a pseudo-family. Harry knows devotion and loyalty and lies.
He cares about other people. He’s never been in love.
Legends aren’t supposed to have feelings.
Harry, unfortunately, happens to be a legend – a living one at that - and he’s finding that being a legend and trying to live a normal life don’t mix well, to say the very least.
Not that Harry ever thought he would be able to live a normal life living in a cupboard, but it didn’t improve that much when he finally got released either. Okay, yes, he got to attend Hogwarts and met Ron and Hermione, but they had each other and Harry had no one.
Harry has no one.
Harry has had was Colin Creevy following him around every hour of the day documenting his every move. Harry has had Rita Skeeter lurking outside his Divination lessons. Harry has talked to snakes and been betrayed by people he loves. Harry has signed autographs and taken pictures.
He doesn’t like to go out much these days.
Harry Potter is the boy who remembers nothing about his parents dying and never asked to defeat VoldemortTomRiddleDarkLordwhomever.
Legends are made, not chosen.
At night Harry screams into a silencing spell and counts the cracks in the ceiling. He talks to his fish and wipes his own brow. He can’t remember the last time he didn’t wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.
He wonders what it would be like to have someone who wanted to be with him just because he was Harry, not because he was Harry Potter.
He’s tried dating Muggles, but he has yet to find someone who understands. The Muggles generally get lost when he tries to explain to them about the scar on the forehead. He’s never gotten far enough to tell them about the war.
Legends aren’t supposed to have trust issues.
The problem with being a legend is that Harry never asked to be one. He doesn’t want to be one. Legends are for myths and lore; they’re not for living, breathing young men who get sweaty palms and bad breath.
Legends are meant to be upheld and exalted. Legends are flawless. Harry isn’t flawless. People love legends; people don’t love Harry.
They love the legend.
I normally don’t think much of what I write, but I like this.
ethrosdemon: Harry who was too famous to believe anyone ever would love him for him.
hackthis: oh, god can i write this please? angsting harry who will never ever trust anyone enough [to] think that they love him for his sorry self and not the legend. i shall call it 'the legend of a boy.' yes, okay. happy now.
ethrosdemon: Strangely enough, I don't see this fic anywhere yet. Huh. When you're not being worked to death, you should make it.
The Legend of a Boy
for
ethrosdemon+++
The problem with being a legend is that it leaves very little room for error.
Being a legend doesn’t come with a DIY or How-To guide.
Harry has had to make it all up as he goes along. He’s made mistakes.
Harry’s tried to fall in love.
Of course, what else is it to be expected? Most legends are dead, and Harry isn’t. Harry is very much alive and battle-scarred and only twenty-two. Harry’s killed and maimed and tortured people he went to school with.
According to popular lore, Harry is a hero.
Harry doesn’t see things that way. He doesn’t think he’s a hero.
Legends don’t doubt themselves. Legends aren’t fallible.
Legends get everything presented to them on silver platters, adorned with bits and baubles and silver ribbons. Legends conquer dragons with a single word and defeat foes with a blink of an eye.
Legends are omnipotent and worldly. They are suave and charismatic. Harry’s still a virgin, and he’s had other things on his mind.
He tends to forget to put the loo seat down, and he hates doing his washing up. Harry tends to snore when it’s hot out, and he’s been known to drink the last of the milk and leave the empty carton in the fridge. Of course, he only complicates matters for himself because he lives alone.
Harry likes living alone because it’s nice to have a wank in peace for change.
Legends aren’t supposed to get lonely.
Harry has Hedwig and two fish – Sirius and Remus – that live inside a plant-covered vase to deter Hedwig from any thoughts of fresh fish. Harry has friends and a pseudo-family. Harry knows devotion and loyalty and lies.
He cares about other people. He’s never been in love.
Legends aren’t supposed to have feelings.
Harry, unfortunately, happens to be a legend – a living one at that - and he’s finding that being a legend and trying to live a normal life don’t mix well, to say the very least.
Not that Harry ever thought he would be able to live a normal life living in a cupboard, but it didn’t improve that much when he finally got released either. Okay, yes, he got to attend Hogwarts and met Ron and Hermione, but they had each other and Harry had no one.
Harry has no one.
Harry has had was Colin Creevy following him around every hour of the day documenting his every move. Harry has had Rita Skeeter lurking outside his Divination lessons. Harry has talked to snakes and been betrayed by people he loves. Harry has signed autographs and taken pictures.
He doesn’t like to go out much these days.
Harry Potter is the boy who remembers nothing about his parents dying and never asked to defeat VoldemortTomRiddleDarkLordwhomever.
Legends are made, not chosen.
At night Harry screams into a silencing spell and counts the cracks in the ceiling. He talks to his fish and wipes his own brow. He can’t remember the last time he didn’t wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.
He wonders what it would be like to have someone who wanted to be with him just because he was Harry, not because he was Harry Potter.
He’s tried dating Muggles, but he has yet to find someone who understands. The Muggles generally get lost when he tries to explain to them about the scar on the forehead. He’s never gotten far enough to tell them about the war.
Legends aren’t supposed to have trust issues.
The problem with being a legend is that Harry never asked to be one. He doesn’t want to be one. Legends are for myths and lore; they’re not for living, breathing young men who get sweaty palms and bad breath.
Legends are meant to be upheld and exalted. Legends are flawless. Harry isn’t flawless. People love legends; people don’t love Harry.
They love the legend.
An urgent owl for Mr. H. Potter
I assure you that I am one person who has never been dazzled by your so-called celebrity or your pig-headed recklessness. I am well aware that you are heedless of your own safety, consider rules to be for others, and seldom look beyond the surface to discover the complexities within.
However, I am forced to admit that you have quite the brain when you chose to actually employ it, your skill with a wand does you credit and, much to my dismay, you do possess a certain rough attractiveness. If your taste runs at all to older, academic types, brisk, industrious mornings, quiet, studious afternoons, calm, companionable evenings, and teeth-rattling, passion-filled nights, I would not be adverse to broadening our acquaintance.
S. Snape
A return owl for Professor S. Snape
It has come to my attention that you have been making advances towards my godson. And while you are the last person on earth - with the possible exception of Lucius Malfoy's progeny - I would want Harry to become involved with, your attentions to Harry have brought to bear certain questions about your sexuality.
In more precise terms, how is it that you are making advances to Harry when you never gave me the time of day at Hogwarts? Surely you're not still bitter over that incident with James.
S. Black
An Owl for Sirius Black
I thought we had previously discussed your untoward habit of perusing my unopened mail and reading the items you find of most interest. I would not care to speculate as to what you suspected Professor Snape’s letter to pertain to, but suffice it to say that I think that you have overstepped our prearranged boundaries.
If you would like to solicit dates, perhaps you would find The Jaunty Cauldron a more appropriate locale than my living room. I would encourage you to perhaps talk to your lifemate about such plans, however. I have heard tell of Remus having some possessiveness issues in the past.
With Much Love,
Harry