God is Dead | James Potter

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

HOW HAD NAMES COME TO BE?
Who had decided to call themselves something? A specific sound just for them? A specific sound that was to determine their identity, how everyone would refer to them? Names. Come to think about it, the world revolved around them. Such a basic part of the human essence, oftently forgotten for that same nature.

Lovina Hazel Selwyn hated her name.

She always had hated her name, at least ever since she had memory. A delicate, nimble name, that fell apart each time it was pronounced.

Lovina, what kind of a word was that? It dreamed to be love, or loving, but it seemed to her, a corruption of the concept.

Hazel, it had to be the meekest of plants, and she could not fathom a reason to name any person (her) that.

She always had the feeling her parents hated her name, too.

Her mother, Arabella Selwyn, formerly Avery, hardly said it. If she were to call for her daughter, she would call her child, or girl. Mostly the latter. Yet, when she was mad, really mad, she had a name once again.

When it came to Ignatius Selwyn, her father, it wasn't a feeling. He had made it clear to her, that he thought it was an ugly, pretentious name. He'd then smoothed things over by saying that any woman's name tended to be horribly pretentious.

More than that, she knew that she hated, absolutely loathed, the way James Potter said her name. Gryffindor, good-for-nothing, golden boy James Potter, couldn't even say Lovina, no, he had to call her Love. As though it was the cleverest thing, he'd smile maliciously. She regretted telling him that was the most idiotic thing she'd ever heard, for his response was, it's definitely gotta stay, then!

She hated her name, yet she answered to it. She couldn't imagine herself not being Lovina Hazel, and, more than infuriating, she found it curious. Why couldn't she rid herself of it? Why did a name matter so much? Was her identity reduced to a few letters and sounds put together? Then again, wasn't everything?

One day, she noticed that Regulus Black had broken her name into parts (the moment he had started to do this, she wouldn't know) and decided to call her Vi. It sounded just like the letter V, but she knew it was her name, it was her. And, oddly enough, she didn't hate it, this time.

Perhaps, it wasn't the name, it was what it represented, and how it did so. She was barely a name for her parents, Selwyn for the most part of school, Vi for Regulus, Love for James Potter.

If she hated what was there to represent her...then what was, exactly, what she thought of herself?