The Poster Boy
Sunday, 11 May 2003 03:58![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apollaHave finally finished my actual H/G ficlet. Here ya go:
The Poster Boy
He used to be a picture in a magazine, a well-known but unknown face. She knows every part of him now: the slight bump on the back of his head, the feel of his fingertips when they brush against her skin and that little mole so far up his inner thigh that she was the only girl to know about it. He used to be little more than a legend and now he was absolute fact.
She used to daydream about him long before she saw him for the first time. She was eight years old when she first realised just who he was. She was ten years old when she first saw him. It was a brief moment in the grand scheme of history, but to her it remained seared in her memory as if it lasted for an hour or a day.
She used to have his picture hidden under her pillow. Every night she would kiss it, tracing her finger across the contours of his face wishing and hoping that one day it would not be photographic paper but real live flesh and blood. She tried so hard to pretend it wasn't true, but when she was confronted by her brother about it, she couldn't bring herself to say that she didn't love that face. She did, and she couldn't lie, no matter the teasing that it brought upon her for the duration of the summer holidays.
It took so long for anything to happen that she had begun to give up hope. He was surrounded by other, much worthier people than her, after all. After the events of her first year at school she was certain he thought her to be terribly stupid, and she couldn’t really blame him. At least he never discovered what she'd been writing about in the diary. Tom had been very understanding at first, and she'd so needed someone to talk to about her crush.
She knew it was a crush. She always had. How could she possibly be really in love with someone she didn't really know? No, love came later. Love came as she watched him in the common room laughing and joking with his friends. Love came as she watched him dodge yet more sure-fire ways to get really, really killed. Love came as she lay awake nights praying that he wouldn’t die yet. Love came as she watched him zoom across the Quidditch field chasing the Snitch and she bit her lip praying he wouldn't get hurt. Love did come.
When she saw other women look at him, she felt satisfaction rise up within her. She used to be just like them and now, she had him. She was The Girl now, not just one of the thousands of girls who loved him from afar. She tried so hard not to crow triumphantly when she saw the envious looks other women gave her, but she couldn't always manage it. It was at times like those she'd see Hermione look at her disapprovingly, as if Ginny shouldn't be pleased that she had Harry and no one else. What did Hermione know? She was nothing but a bitter old maid, Ginny thought at times like those.
She didn't fool herself that she knew all of him. She knew very well that he hid a lot of himself from her, but she didn't mind. She didn't want to know all of him, because she was scared that if she did the image of the boy in the pictures would be shattered. She had a dream that was Harry Potter, and she didn't know what she'd do if she lost that dream. She went to sleep with a legend, but was terrified that she'd wake up with a man.
The End
Leave any questions or comments in the box.
Oh, by the way, this was a hard thing to write. No offence to H/G shippers, but I personally will be very disappointed if it happens in canon. We don't end up with our first crushes, and you know what? We shouldn't. Just my opinion.
The Poster Boy
He used to be a picture in a magazine, a well-known but unknown face. She knows every part of him now: the slight bump on the back of his head, the feel of his fingertips when they brush against her skin and that little mole so far up his inner thigh that she was the only girl to know about it. He used to be little more than a legend and now he was absolute fact.
She used to daydream about him long before she saw him for the first time. She was eight years old when she first realised just who he was. She was ten years old when she first saw him. It was a brief moment in the grand scheme of history, but to her it remained seared in her memory as if it lasted for an hour or a day.
She used to have his picture hidden under her pillow. Every night she would kiss it, tracing her finger across the contours of his face wishing and hoping that one day it would not be photographic paper but real live flesh and blood. She tried so hard to pretend it wasn't true, but when she was confronted by her brother about it, she couldn't bring herself to say that she didn't love that face. She did, and she couldn't lie, no matter the teasing that it brought upon her for the duration of the summer holidays.
It took so long for anything to happen that she had begun to give up hope. He was surrounded by other, much worthier people than her, after all. After the events of her first year at school she was certain he thought her to be terribly stupid, and she couldn’t really blame him. At least he never discovered what she'd been writing about in the diary. Tom had been very understanding at first, and she'd so needed someone to talk to about her crush.
She knew it was a crush. She always had. How could she possibly be really in love with someone she didn't really know? No, love came later. Love came as she watched him in the common room laughing and joking with his friends. Love came as she watched him dodge yet more sure-fire ways to get really, really killed. Love came as she lay awake nights praying that he wouldn’t die yet. Love came as she watched him zoom across the Quidditch field chasing the Snitch and she bit her lip praying he wouldn't get hurt. Love did come.
When she saw other women look at him, she felt satisfaction rise up within her. She used to be just like them and now, she had him. She was The Girl now, not just one of the thousands of girls who loved him from afar. She tried so hard not to crow triumphantly when she saw the envious looks other women gave her, but she couldn't always manage it. It was at times like those she'd see Hermione look at her disapprovingly, as if Ginny shouldn't be pleased that she had Harry and no one else. What did Hermione know? She was nothing but a bitter old maid, Ginny thought at times like those.
She didn't fool herself that she knew all of him. She knew very well that he hid a lot of himself from her, but she didn't mind. She didn't want to know all of him, because she was scared that if she did the image of the boy in the pictures would be shattered. She had a dream that was Harry Potter, and she didn't know what she'd do if she lost that dream. She went to sleep with a legend, but was terrified that she'd wake up with a man.
The End
Leave any questions or comments in the box.
Oh, by the way, this was a hard thing to write. No offence to H/G shippers, but I personally will be very disappointed if it happens in canon. We don't end up with our first crushes, and you know what? We shouldn't. Just my opinion.
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no subject
Rather liked your other H/G though ... *cheeky grin*
hehe
This was good too though. ^_~
no subject
Date: 2003-05-10 20:46 (UTC)She went to sleep with a legend, but was terrified that she'd wake up with a man.
One reason I have trouble seeing Harry with anyone other thatn Hermione in canon is for this reason. Hermione sees Harry for who he is and understands him. She wants to know all of him. I don't think other females could have the same understanding she does.
Overall, great job. Keep on writing!
~Erin