First Year
He stared at Professor Dumbledore. It was his fault him mum died. Voldemort had killed her so he could kill him. If he hadn't been born then his mum and dad would be alive and well at this very moment. It was his fault. Tears welled up in his eyes.
"W-w-why? Why did he want to kill me so badly? Why"
"I shall tell you when you are ready Harry. When you are ready. Until then try not to ponder on the question. It will only cause you heartache." Dumbledore replied with what Harry had quickly dubbed the "grandfather" voice.
But he knew that he would ponder it. Why did one of the most powerful wizards alive want so badly to end the life of a lowly baby and now preteen such as himself? Why?
Second year
As Harry sat surrounded by his happy chatting classmates his mind once again wandered back to the chamber of secrets. Back to Voldemort or rather, back to Tom Riddle. Once again he came so close to getting another friend killed. Why was it always him? Damn it. Why wouldn't Dumbledore just tell him?
Yeah. Don't ponder on why he had managed to pretty much get his parents get killed at age 1. There was as much a chance of that as Snape hugging him and tucking him into bed one night. Absolutely zero.
Every night his mind returned to this topic. Why in the world did Voldemort want to kill him so badly? Why?
Third Year
So he had a godfather. Well that was interesting. Why hadn't anyone told him? I mean even if everyone did believe he was a mass murderer and a traitor he still would have liked to know.
But Sirius was gone anyway. Probably hiding somewhere where hopefully no one could ever find him. For those brief minutes though he had had such hope. He could leave the Dursley's. He could have family. A family that loved him, something he had never experienced.
And then his hope had been destroyed by Voldemort again. This time it might have been indirectly but there was no doubt that it was once again Voldemort's fault. Wormtail escaped to return to his master once more. In doing so there was no way to prove Sirius's innocence. No way at all.
Fourth Year
Cedric was dead. Voldemort was back. The blood protection his mother gave him was useless. And yet he still didn't know why. He had once again asked Dumbledore just why Voldemort wanted him dead so badly and once again he didn't get an answer. Once again it was "I'll tell you when you're older." Well he was older.
He had watched a dark lord resurrected. He had gotten tortured by him. He had fought for his life. Just how old would older be? When another innocent person was dead in front of him. He still pondered the same question he had at age 11.
Why the hell was it him? What made him so special? What made him a target instead of any other of his classmates? Why had he been marked?
Fifth Year
So now he knew. Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. He was marked because only he could stop Voldemort.
But he was only 15! He wasn't even of age yet. How exactly was he supposed to do what grown adults couldn't do? And why the hell did he Dumbledore wait until now to tell him. Why wait until his only family had died in front of him. He had been right a year ago. It had taken another innocent person to die before he had been told the truth.
The question that he had pondered since he was 11 had finally been answered. He just wished it hadn't been kept from him for so long. What right did Dumbledore have to keep it from him? And why did he have to be the chosen one? Why?
Sixth Year
Dumbledore dead. Dumbledore was dead.
His mentor. His teacher. His friend.
He was dead.
The leader of the light. Of the resistance against Voldemort was dead.
He knew what he had to do now. He had to fight. He had to leave and search nonstop. There was no longer any time for school. He would have to leave Hogwarts and his friends behind. He had to destroy those horcruxes. Had to fulfill Dumbledore's dying wish. It was all he could do now to kill the bastard who started it all and every bastard who stood in his way. He would kill him. He would fight. And he would no longer question why. Why no longer mattered to him. It was the how that he cared about. How?