Once upon a time, there was a boy named Harry. Yes; he was a wizard. No; he was not Harry Potter. He was simply named after Harry Potter— of course he was, Harry Potter had been a hero among all magical folks. He had been the destroyer of the treacherous Lord Voldemort, _the Chosen One. _

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Most people seemed to believe this, at least, though young Harry Hawkes thought differently.

Harry Hawkes was a Hufflepuff, and you see, Hufflepuffs were most certainly the most unpopular, uncared for house of all the Hogwarts houses. Hufflepuffs where seen as weak, good for nothing cry babies- but this wasn’t true. Not a bit. They where strong as they where kind, and they where very kind- smart too.

But no matter how smart, Harry seemed to be the only one who thought clumsy Neville Longbottom was the true hero, the real chosen one.

‘Without _Neville, Ron, Hermonie, and Harry Potter would most certainly be dead, for he had really defeated Lord Voldemort.’ _Harry found himself often thinking this.

You see, during the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry- “The Chosen One”- must slay He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or his snake, Nagini. But during this battle, Neville was able to pull out the Sword of Gryffindor and cut off the head of Nagini, letting Harry seize the moment to finish off the Dark Lord. In this moment, Neville was strong and brave and true. Though, he had received none of the credit for doing so.

So Harry Hawkes would much rather have been named Neville Hawkes- though it was not his choice, and no matter what he did, people would simply laugh off his comments on Harry Potter. Oh, but he had and idea to change that.