Friendship relied on trust. True friendship did, anyways. Harry only had one true friend. Contrary to common belief it wasn't Ron or Hermione. He didn't truly trust them, not with the way Ron sometimes behaved, like when his name came out of the Goblet of Fire. He had to see proof with his own two eyes, before realizing that the Tournament was essentially a death trap.
Hermione was different. She was loyal, yes, but there was always a need to inform an adult about everything. Sometimes, being a good friend meant breaking the rules. Harry could still recall the incident with his Firebolt. Hermione had thought that it was right to inform a professor. The problem was, she did was she thought was best. She didn't ask him at all. Did she really think Harry so stupid that he would ride a broom from an unknown sender?
No, in the end, there had only been one true friend. And to think he hadn't even found her until his eleventh birthday! Harry still remembered the moment he saw her. Seeing Hagrid with Hedwig… he had felt a kinship, something he had never felt with anyone. Of course, he never had friends before as well, but that was in the past.
Harry trusted Hedwig with his life. She was an owl, yes, but she was intelligent. She was understanding, and Harry always felt that she actually understood what he was saying. There was a reason Harry never trusted adults with his life, like Hermione did. The Dursleys started it, and everyone else increased his mistrust.
His primary school teachers never seemed to find it weird how he never interacted with anyone else, and how he spent his breaks running away from Dudley and his gang. They never noticed the bruises, or how his clothes were too big for him. How his glasses were broken. They all knew Dudley was his cousin, yet they never made the connection. Dudley had perfect clothes that fit him nicely, Dudley was always extolled from his aunt and uncle, yet Dudley performed poorly in school. Who was lying then?
When Hagrid retrieved him from the Dursleys, he connected the dots. Dumbledore had left him on the doorstep of the Dursleys. Dumbledore suspected that the Dursleys weren't following the instructions left in the letter. Yet he hadn't said a word to Harry, except to inform him at the end of his first year, that love was the main factor that saved him. Harry's suspicions went up a notch.
Once Harry met Sirius Black though, somehow, he managed to trust him. Sirius liked him for who he was. Sirius didn't treat Harry as if he was a child. Sirius was everything he wished for. Not as a parent, or a guardian, no. He was past that stage, he had been past that stage since he was very young. Even Hedwig liked him, which was saying something, because Hedwig never seemed to trust anyone. No, Sirius was everything he wanted in a friend.
Holed up in the smallest room in the house, Harry stroked Hedwig fondly. Hedwig was his friend, always and forever. And while it might seem a tad foolish to others, Harry thought of Hedwig as a person, not an owl. Harry trusted her mainly because she would never betray him - not that Ron and Hermione betrayed him - but she would never do something without his permission, and Harry was thankful. It wasn't to mean Harry didn't like her only because of that, but it was easier to trust someone who would never betray him (he admitted sometimes it was the small things, but his trust was already fragile and broken). He was free to say whatever he wanted, and tell his fears to someone who would listen, without judgement, without pity, just listening.
He would never have that kind of trust with anyone else. He could never imagine a life like that, blindly trusting others without knowing their intentions. He wouldn't be able to live like that. He had tried when he was younger, and he tried one more time with Professor McGonagall. As always, they had let him down. Professor McGonagall was the last chance. After that, he gave up.
He had asked Lockhart on a whim, not because he believed he would help, but because Lockhart was a fraud, that was good for nothing. Harry would never rely on others for help, because that was an opportunity to crush his hope. Hope was a tiny, fragile thing. Harry didn't have enough hope left to give it out so casually.
Sometimes, tentative as he felt to use the word love, Harry felt he loved Sirius. He… loved him for being there for him, for being supportive, for being Sirius. Although Hedwig would always be his first true friend, Sirius was his first true human friend.
Harry had always felt connected to animals more than humans, and if he could, he would buy more pets. Dumbledore had said love was why Voldemort couldn't touch him, back in his first year, but to Harry, love was something barely tangible. You could read about, you could imagine it, but you would never actually be able to feel love. At least that's what Harry thought.
And while he would always be grateful to Ron and Hermione for being there, it was Hedwig who he thought of as a true friend. It would always be Hedwig that he talked to first, it would always be her that he went to if had a problem. She wouldn't be able to say anything in response, but Harry always felt better after he said something to her.
Hedwig was and always would be his best friend. There was no one else he trusted enough to be his best friend. Ron and Hermione would always be his best mates, and while friend and mate were basically synonyms, in his head, Harry would always reserve friend for those he truly trusted, and mate, for those that were friends but he didn't trust them fully.
Looking at Hedwig, Harry was truly grateful. Hedwig had always been with him, and she would continue to. Harry had a bond with Hedwig, something that would never be broken, for Hedwig was his familiar, his friend, his partner… and his family.