Strange how things start. A snowball runs downhill gathering more and more force until it suddenly pummels through things like a wrecking ball. A little stone on the ground trips a man who dies of the consequent injury. A person makes a statement that makes another question his entire system of belief.

Which is how it starts with Harry Potter. It began in fifth year when a certain Ginny Weasley, who had tag teamed with Ron and Hermione to get Harry to talk about his nightmares, said casually, worriedly, "We're your friends Harry, you can tell us what's wrong."

And Harry Potter startled. Did Ginny actually think they were friends? He had never talked to her beyond a couple of conversations, most of which had included her blushing, stuttering and then running away.

"Ginny, you're my best friend's sister. You might even be Hermione's friend. But you sure as hell aren't mine."

And Ginny Weasley gasped, teared up and fled the room, Hermione following her. Ron torn between acknowledging that Harry was right and supporting his family followed them out as well.

And Harry Potter understood then.

Because he had never had anyone really. The Dursleys were family but not any definition of family as Harry knew it. In fact, he was all but certain that neither his mother or Petunia was adopted and they weren't even his family by definition of blood. And before Hogwarts Dudley had made sure he had never had friends either. So the point was, Harry didn't have anyone of his own, no person he could look at and be sure that they would be there for him.

So when he had found Hermione and Ron he had assumed that they were his friends the way he was their friend. With a violent intensity, a loyalty that Hufflepuffs would be jealous of.

But he was wrong, clearly. Because Hermione would drop him for the first lost cause she would come across, he knew that now. She wanted to be a hero so badly she would do anything for it and in Ginny she had found her one. The damsel in distress that she could help open up, and thus save.

And Ron, well, he may say that Harry was like his brother but that clearly wasn't the case. It had been hard enough to trust him again after that fiasco with the Triwizard and the dragons, but this? This was worse. This wasn't his usual jealousy raising its head, it was just Ron proving that blood is thicker than water.

And Harry needed better than that.

Perhaps in first year he would have been willing to accept it. He would have glutted himself on whatever scraps of affection Ron could give him and be content with it. But now, now Harry had other things he had to worry about. He had a madman intent on killing him, a man with his fingers in many a pie. He needed someone who could watch his back and they just weren't it.

The fire in the common room had dimmed and the shadows enveloping it grew deeper. Harry Potter sat there alone with his mind in turmoil, his hand in pain and a nightmare lingering in his mind and said out loud to the empty room, "I need better friends".