Lord Harry Potter

Harry sat in the last row of chairs. He didn't really want to be here where so many could see him. He had ten fingers again, but very little use of one of them. He felt like everyone was staring at him. Kidnapped by Augustus Rookwood and walked away alive. They forgot the wounded part.

The famous singer who everyone was here to see made an entrance after everyone was seated. She walked slowly from the back of the room to the front. Harry was sure enough he'd never heard her sing.

Then he was wrong. She sang for them a little. Harry realized he knew the song she picked...from Mrs. Weasley's magical radio.

Hermione got up and did her usual introduction. Such and such concerts. Such and such awards.

Madam Warbeck talked about singing in the taverns of the world, then eventually the few dedicated halls for entertainment. There were a few in the United Kingdom, but mostly they had been used for duels and public meetings and hosting celebrations. She had also traveled extensively. Filling a concert hall was easier in France, Germany, and Austria. It was even harder in America, which was even more spread out than the United Kingdom. Australia outside three or four cities... She laughed.

Creating a career in the arts was difficult, she said in many different ways. Witches and wizards could travel so easily that they chose to live far apart. So it was an event to get them all in a room for a live concert. It wasn't the same just making a song for replay on the radio. She found she loved to perform live. She also tried to support new artists or small groups. She tried to bully the wireless into featuring new acts and was somewhat successful. Harry had the sense that she was responsible for giving groups like the Weird Sisters their first breaks.

Harry found her very nice. He didn't know what he was expecting from a 'famous' singer, but she wasn't it. She was like a nice grandmother.

The things she talked about – how wizards and witches came together as a community, where they did it, and when – were things he hadn't thought about. Nor had he read the first word on this topic.

Eventually she came to talk about being famous. Harry might not like his fame, but he wasn't blind that it existed and didn't seem to be going away. Being savaged by Rookwood had even increased it.

"You've had Quidditch players in, yes?" she asked. "And a few good duelists? The part they may not talk about was the public, the fans. A voice can last longer than a player in a Quidditch league, one of my sons flew for the Arrows, if you didn't know."

Harry hadn't. He really hadn't known anything about her.

"He bears my husband's name and I'm not telling. He gets a little privacy. I get less."

She seemed sad but not bitter.

"I've dealt with fans since before my Quidditch-playing son was born. I live my life on a stage. So people come up to me after, or when I'm shopping. I'll tell you a few things about being a success. When you are in public, anytime, you are in front of your potential fans."

Harry nodded. He'd felt that.

"If you are in public, you are performing, even if you aren't singing."

That was right. It was cruel and it was true.

"Let me be clear. As a performer, you are trying to keep your reputation intact. Most of us – even me before I was about twenty-eight or so – don't think about our reputation. It's not something that matters. To a person who climbs into the public eye, it does matter. I wouldn't still be paid to sing if I didn't start taking care of my voice – and my reputation."

Harry wasn't a singer. He was just a student. But he had a reputation. He had it even if he didn't want it. But he hadn't done anything with it. Reporters used it. Those people who wrote Harry Potter books for little kids, they used it.

Harry started paying very close attention.

"It's not easy acting like a professional whenever I'm in public. I'm a person. Yes, I can be moody at times. I can be angry. But I do it at home. It's a little harder to live life this way."

Harry nodded.

"I remember how I was when I was younger. How I was when I was at Hogwarts. So, if you set out on the road to be a success, keep this lesson in mind. Talent matters. The hard work matters. But staying at the top, if you get there, is in large part your responsibility, too. Your fans will pay attention to what you make but also how you are. They'll follow you in the papers. They'll watch. Not fair, if you ask me, but it's how we all are."

Harry had never put those thoughts together like that. But it was true... Horribly true.

"Except when I'm performing, I lead a fairly private life, which is my choice. It's one of the ways I've lasted as long as I have. So, if you become a Quidditch success or you launch a successful band or you're the next famous painter of wizard portraits or you actually perform the accomplishments once claimed by that fraud Lockhart, maybe you're a reputable columnist for a paper or a future Minister of Magic... I hope you'll remember what I say. Fame can help. Fame can also cut you to ribbons. So, if your success happens, congratulations. Put your dragon hide gloves on and tame the heads of that hydra."

Harry smiled.

.....

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