The rain fell in sheets over the small, crooked house on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Harry Potter stood at the window, his forehead pressed against the cool glass, watching as the droplets raced each other to the sill. Each raindrop felt like an echo of his own thoughts, sliding downwards, always pulling him into a deeper mire of uncertainty. Outside, the world was drenched and dark, while inside, the air was thick with a tension that had settled like dust in the corners of the old house.He could hear the muffled sound of his godfather, Sirius Black, shouting at the television in the living room, a bizarre relic of the Muggle world that Sirius insisted on keeping despite the protests of the other Order members. The flickering screen displayed a news report, and Harry could just make out the words “Neville Longbottom” amidst the chaos of sound.&nbsp;“Neville Longbottom,” Harry mouthed, the name tasting bitter on his tongue. The boy who lived in the limelight of destiny, the Chosen One. The boy who had slayed the Dark Lord before he could even comprehend the weight of his own power. It was a title that had never belonged to Harry, and one that had always cast a long shadow over his life.As a child, he had often dreamed of being the hero; the one to save the day, to wear the cloak of greatness like a second skin. But it was Neville who had become the symbol of hope in their world, not Harry. He was the one who had faced Voldemort in his moment of resurrection, the one who had wielded the Sword of Gryffindor with conviction. Harry had only ever been the boy left behind, the sidekick in his own story.With a sigh, Harry turned away from the window, ruffling his messy black hair in frustration. He felt the familiar stirrings of rebellion in his chest, a yearning to carve out his own legacy, to prove that he was more than just “the Boy Who Lived.” He had been raised by Sirius under a banner of defiance, and though that defiance had often meant trouble, it had also instilled in him a restless spirit.&nbsp;“Harry!” Sirius’s voice boomed from the next room, cutting through his thoughts. “Come here! You have to see this!”With a resigned roll of his eyes, Harry trudged into the living room. The sight that greeted him was both familiar and jarring. Sirius, with his wild hair and even wilder temperament, was sprawled on the couch, his gaze fixated on the screen where a news anchor was breathlessly recounting the latest exploits of Neville Longbottom.&nbsp;“Harry!” Sirius exclaimed again, the sparkle in his eyes betraying his enthusiasm. “He’s done it again! He’s faced down a group of rogue Death Eaters single-handedly! Can you believe it?”Harry’s heart sank. “Yeah, great,” he muttered, folding his arms across his chest. “Neville’s amazing. I get it.”Sirius’s expression shifted, a hint of concern flickering across his features. “You know, you could talk to him. Join him in his fight. You don’t have to hide away here forever.”“Hide?” Harry shot back, the edge in his voice sharper than he intended. “I’m not hiding! I’m just… figuring things out.”“Figuring what out?” Sirius pressed, sitting up straighter. “You’re about to turn seventeen, Harry! You’re of age now in our world. You could be making a difference, but instead, you’re just wallowing in the past.”The truth of Sirius’s words stung, but Harry pushed back, unwilling to let his godfather see how deeply they cut. “What do you want me to do? Just… show up and say, ‘Hey, I’m Harry Potter, the other Chosen One’? That’s not how it works, Sirius! I’m not him! I never have been!”Sirius’s eyes softened, the fire of his earlier excitement dimming. “You don’t have to be him, Harry. You just have to be you. And being you means being brave, even in the face of chaos. You’ve always had it in you, but you can’t keep running from your own potential.”“Potential?” Harry echoed, the word tasting bitter in his mouth. “All I’ve ever been is the shadow of someone else’s destiny. The world wants Neville; they don’t want me.”“Maybe they don’t know you,” Sirius said gently. “Maybe it’s time they did.”Harry turned away, his heart racing with the flood of emotions he couldn’t quite name. The chaos outside, the storm brewing both in the world and within himself, swirled around him. He felt an overwhelming urge to break free, to do something reckless, something that would force the world to pay attention to him for once.&nbsp;And in that moment of quiet rebellion, he made a decision. If the world wanted a hero, then perhaps he would give them one. Not the son of James and Lily, not the boy left behind, but Harry Potter, the boy who would seize his own fate, even if it meant embracing the chaos he had long tried to escape.“Alright,” he said, turning back to Sirius, a fire igniting in his green eyes. “Let’s see what this chaos is all about.”&nbsp;Because if Neville was the Chosen One, then perhaps it was time for Harry to become something entirely different—a hero of his own making.

Chapter One: The Shadow of Greatness

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Shadow’s of Destiny

Geo1960

George Gentle

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Chapter One: The Shadow of Greatness

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George Gentle

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