❝𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲?❞
❝𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦.❞
𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 had a few, perhaps a little or more than a palm of qualms in his life. First up was the whole "The Boy-Who-Lived" shenanigans, then there was an ungodly am...
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LXXI. YOUR HOAX
━━━━━━
"Darling, this was just as hard
As when they pulled me apart"
NO MATTER HOW MUCH HARRY thought of it, he had always been a burden.
The very essence of the word seemed ingrained into his existence. Throughout his life, he could feel it in the way the world had shaped itself around him. He felt he burdened his loving, short-lived parents — he knew, with a bone-deep certainty — by existing, robbing them of a long, happy life that should've been theirs. Their dreams, their future had ended the night they died protecting him. The guilt gnawed at him relentlessly, for it was his mere existence that had marked them for death.
In the care of the Dursleys, he had never been more than an unwelcome shadow in their home, a reminder of everything his aunt wished to forget. His very presence had poisoned their lives, warping their happiness with bitterness and resentment, an unwelcome intrusion on the family they wanted to pretend they were.
Even with his friends, the only people who had ever truly seen him, loved him — he still felt like an intruder. He had barged rudely into Ron and Hermione's lives, carrying with him the constant threat of danger, the ever-looming shadow of war. They had never signed up for the endless turmoil he dragged into their world. Instead of peaceful, ordinary teenage years, they had battles, fear, and loss — all because of him. His role as 'The Chosen One' made him a focal point of the Order of the Phoenix's efforts against Voldemort; e often wondered if their constant vigilance and sacrifices would be unnecessary if he weren't such a significant target.
And then, there was Marjorie. Sweet, strong Marjorie, who loved him with a devotion that sometimes made him ache. He adored her — love more than he did himself sometime. She saw him, the real him, in ways that terrified and comforted him. But even her love had become something he felt undeserving of, something tainted by the curse of his life. By being with him, she had been dragged into the hell that was his reality. If he had never fallen for her — if he had been stronger, braver, more selfless — she would've been spared the constant anguish of loving someone destined for death. Stupidly, in a way, he thought that maybe Malfoy or someone like him would have offered her a better life — one free from the constant threat of death and destruction.
It was an absurd thought.
It was stupid.
But Harry couldn't stop thinking it might have been true.
He was a burden, a catalyst for pain and suffering in the lives of those he cared about most. Despite their constant reassurances and unwavering loyalty, he knew deep down that he was the fulcrum upon which the fate of so many rested. Voldemort wanted him and only him. And because he wouldn't give in, everyone was suffering.
