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by Gravity

Major spoilers!

After taking Albus aside, Harry helped him board the train that was pulled up to platform nine and three quarters at King's Cross station and watched with his wife, Ginny and his younger daughter, Lily. 

Harry gazed in awe at Ginny as he subtly ran his fingers through her dark red hair and kissed her cheek before taking his family back through the barrier and to the family car. But then Harry turned back and in his mind's eye he didn't see his world. Suddenly, London was gone. As he got in the passenger seat of the car, Harry saw a girl flipping through a book.

"Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows," he muttered to himself, reading the title at the top of the page she was engrossed in. Her brown hair was pulled up in a messy bun and she wore a sweatshirt and glasses which was about as much as Harry could see, He was limited to the view the open book offered which was somewhat limited. 

Behind the girl reading the book there was a window with open blinds. The sky was pale, the opaque gray pallor of the sky was almost white, however, and there was snow drifting passively to the ground. The flakes of ice sluggishly added to the snowdrifts behind her and there was even a tree, it's gnarly branches weighted down slightly with snow.

This scene was somewhat familiar to Harry. He'd seen it throughout his lifetime, this girl reading in front of the window. In seasons past it wasn't snow he saw but maybe flowers or the reds and orange hues of Autumn leaves. She always wore her hair in a messy bun and always wore the glasses with the thick black frames. 

Harry had the privilege of watching the girl grow up. Sometimes she'd read with tear stains on her face from bullies at school or a fight with her Mom at home. She'd read as her escape. Other times she would read just to read. Harry found it entertaining when she read quietly to herself, she did all the voices and it interested him, even though it was his own story. 

As time had passed, Harry grew familiar with this girl. Sometimes seeing other readers in his mind's eye. But he found this girl, out of the millions who loved his story, to be unique. He loved how she laughed and cried shamelessly with his story. Everytime she went back and reread, she still had emotions as intense and real as the first time she read through. The compassion in her heart touched him and while she, Ava, loved Harry, Harry grew to love her as well.

"Damn," Harry thought, snapping back into his own mind for a moment as he looked at his wife who unfroze and resumed getting in the car. "I wish the writer hadn't made me fall in love with Ginny. I kissed her once in book six and suddenly we're married with three kids. I can't feel what I want to because it's already written for me. I can't change my fate."

"Ginny?" Harry asked and her eyes breifly looked from the road to him.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Do you ever feel that maybe there's something more? Like you're out of place in your own world?" Harry asked, wringing his hands.

"All the time," she said. "I felt that way when Fred died, and Tonks and Lupin. I knew that they'd gone to a better place but for a minute I wanted to be with them and away from here."

Harry felt a pang of guilt go through him. He'd loved all those she'd mentioned but he knew Ginny would never understand him. She would never be there for him on the level Ava was. But as a book character on paper, composed of nothing more than ink and a little love, he had no choice but to go along with it.

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11 Reviews

Points: 639
Reviews: 11

Sun Jan 03, 2016 9:38 am
wonderlandashes wrote a review...

I really enjoy this story, and it is an interesting concept that could be expanded upon. I think that making this longer would certainly be beneficial. It is very good overall, and makes you think more about instances where the author calls to you, the "dear reader."
Speaking of expansion, one place where I would add more is in the sixth and seventh paragraphs. It is easy to summarize passing periods of time, but the result leaves little to no emotional effect on the reader (or any effect at all, rather). Adding specific incidents and occurrences, sprinkling in a few anecdotes, and just saying more in general would improve the piece significantly.
One last thing that I was a bit confused about:
Even though Harry had apparently seen the girl around with the books before, and he was famous, wouldn't he be a bit surprised to see a Harry Potter book? If Beyonce sees a book with her name on it, despite her fame and recognition, she would probably want to know who exactly had written a book with hundreds of pages in it, all about her. Or does this exist in a universe where the J.K. Rowling books are widely read throughout the wizarding world, so Harry would already know of the books? In this case, it would make their relationship less special, perhaps.
One last thing, on the note of their relationship (or lack thereof.)
If there were certain romantic sparks between HP and Ava, as the story implies, and Harry was already married to Ginny when this tale began, then how could Harry watch Ava grow up? This would mean that there was a huge age difference between the two, therefore making their mutual romantic interest less cute, and more creepy.
Apart from these few little suggestions and notes, this is probably the most well written and creative HP fan fiction-esque pieces that I have ever read, so thank you. Please keep expanding on this, as I look forward to hearing more about this interesting story and general concept!
- wonderlandashes :)

Gravity says...

No haha, my intention was for Harry to have watched Ava grow as he did, catching glimpses of her previously like in past books.

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7 Reviews

Points: 320
Reviews: 7

Sun Jan 03, 2016 12:54 am
SilkyDark wrote a review...

An interesting premise. The meta is frequently used for humorous intent, and rarely ever for seriousness or dramatic purpose. That withstanding, the writing in this piece uses the concept exceptionally well. It draws one in, the unorthodox idea of a character being able to see, let alone fall in love with their reader. All I can say is that I can see so many ways for this to go wrong, so many potential pitfalls. And this particular work experiences none of them.

Overall, it's well written, engrossing, and just plain good.

The only way of knowing a person is to love them without hope.
— Walter Benjamin