I don't own it. The rich lady does.
Alone.
I'm always alone.
Even in the great hall, surrounded by everybody eating and chatting, or whispering about me, I am alone.
Some of them think that they know me. Ron is my "best mate" and Hermione would probably be able to go on for hours telling you "everything you could ever want to know about Harry Potter." But I'm not the Harry Potter that they think that they know.
They know a mask, a face to put on for the world to see. They see the hero, the savior, the one you can depend on in a fight. But they don't know me. How could they, when we've never met?
I'm the real Harry Potter. I'm the little boy who was shoved into the cupboard. After the first few beatings when I realized that it didn't help when I cried, I stopped. Eventually Vernon got tired of hitting me when I wouldn't cry out and I was left alone. Always alone.
But it's ok. When I'm alone, they can't hurt me. The mask feels the pain and I watch, crying for it but it doesn't cry. It wouldn't be a very good mask if it cried.
And so I am alone. They cheer for my mask and tear down my mask but they can't break the mask because the mask is stronger than them, the mask is the hero and the savior and can be depended on in a fight, because that's what the mask is for. It can save the world and I don't have to get hurt anymore. But sometimes, I wish the mask would go away.
Sometimes, I just feel, alone.