He's mine you know.
He's always been mine. Everyone else thinks that he's theirs. Their hero, their savior, their scapegoat. I know better. I know that he doesn't belong to them. I know that he never has.
He doesn't belong to Ginny, no matter how many time she watches him save her life with star struck eyes. Not to Luna who smiles at him dreamily every time he stops someone from making fun of her, not even to Ron although he comes closer in possessing him than all the others.
He belongs to me.
It was the only thing that kept me going last year. It was the only thing that held me up as I watched him with teary eyes. The only thing that stopped me from screaming, wailing and crying because of the horrors that were happening.
I know that he feels our bond too. I suppose that he's also bonded to Ron to a lesser extent but why should I care? First and foremost he's mine and that's all that matters. He's mine because he was my first friend. He's mine because he would never have survived without me, most importantly he's mine because I'm his.
The last reason is the most important. It is what makes my bond with him different than the one he has with Ron. Ron comes from a loving family, with great siblings and parents, he's never known what it feels like to be alone. To be ostracized simply for being what you are, to be hated, scorned, spit upon for something that you cannot or will not change. He's lucky that way.
And in a way, he is unlucky because of that. Because the fact that I have felt all of the above is what makes Harry mine. The fact that I can understand him will always mean more to Harry than a good chess game or a match of quidditch or a quick conversation about losing loved ones.
The fact that I have always been teased and hurt about things like being smart or being a muggle born allows me to empathize with what Harry feels. And I know that Harry empathizes with me.
I still remember a time in my first year that cemented my loyalty to Harry forever. I had just left the great hall and was on my way to Gryffindor tower when a group of kids approached me. I tried to run away (I could see in their expressions that they hated me) but one of them tripped me. So I lay on the floor, my books scattered all around me hearing their taunts.
Mudblood bitch.
That term hurt me so much but there was nothing I could do about it. I lay there feeling ashamed when I heard Harry's angry voice. That was the first time that I saw Harry's anger. I swore to myself to never be on the receiving end of it.
He cursed them all. He, Harry Potter, then a first year with minimum knowledge of curses and jinxes cursed them all. The next thing I knew he was gently lifting me up and wiping the tears from my face, I saw in his soft expression that he did not hate me for my weakness, having well experienced the taunts of bullies before.
It was at that moment that I knew that I loved Harry Potter.
The details blur after that, I remember him promising not to tell anyone else and it fades after that. I don't care. I remember the important parts.
That was the first time that I truly saw him.
Everything happened so fast after that. My understanding helped me reach his heart and in the process he reached into mine. That's what led to this. We're approaching the castle now so I need to close this as I head with Harry into 6th year. I know that it will be horrible, war has started and I'm a prime target. I don't care. It doesn't matter.
He's mine.