A/N: This is a one-shot, people. I may right in the same style from another character's point of view, but that depends on the reaction I get from this. This is meant to be a 'stream of consciousness' from Hermione on Harry (duh). Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the emotions, and even those I borrowed.
It's not that he can't stand up for himself. Merlin knows he's done a bloody fine job of that since he was born. It's not that he won't protect himself; he just sees no point in it. It's not that he has no feelings, just that he masks them. I watch every year as he goes back to that place. That place where he is ignored, belittled, abused, though to what extent I don't know. I tried to ask him once, in a round-about way, of course, but he easily shut me down. That's how I knew it was bad. The Harry I had known never shut me out. Never showed fear. And for the first time I saw a flicker of fear in those amazing eyes. I didn't see it there in any Quidditch match; it wasn't in his eyes when he was hanging off his broom with one hand, nor when he nearly choked on the snitch. It wasn't there when he was facing Professor Snape's wrath for the first time, nor any of the countless times after that. I never saw fear when Professor Lockhart turned his arm into a glorified evening glove. He wasn't afraid when a murderer was out for his blood, when he faced a werewolf, when faced with his parents' betrayer, when he nearly lost his godfather. His eyes only held resignation. They were filled with it, overflowing in it, drowning in that damned resignation! After he returned with Cedric's body his body radiated sadness and guilt, but even then, shaking with the after-effects of the Crucious curse, his eyes glowed, begging to be released from the knowledge, however subconscious, that this would not be the last body he would ever cling to, wouldn't be the last time he was surrounded by screams of terror and pain, both physical and emotional. I was in the crowd when he was popped back into Hogwarts, he was too far away, there were too many people between us, but still his eyes passed over me, my face just one of many crowding to get closer. I fought hard, so hard, to be nearer to him, to prove to myself that he was there, still alive, still here, but I was overpowered by Dumbledore's shield charm. He put it up for Harry's protection, I know that now, but being impotent of anything but watching as they led him away... Then came 5th year. And again I was powerless to help him. Again I could do nothing but support him and hope that everything would turn out in his favor, that once again his luck would bring him through unharmed. And once again I failed him, brought down by a curse I should have seen coming. If I had been more cautious, if I had paid attention to which Death Eater was still capable of using a wand and which wasn't, if I had fought to stay conscious while my boy was still fighting for my life! He could have been killed because of me! He could have died because I wasn't there to fight off his enemies alongside him! He could have died and I just lay on the floor and fucking gave up! Why did I do it?! Why did I give up while my boys were still fighting?! How could I have been so selfish?! My boy was still fighting! My boy! No matter what anyone says on the matter, I will always know the truth. I gave up and succumbed to my physical pain and left my boys open to attack... If I had been there-if I had been there when the Order came, when Dumbledore came, when the fighting stilled and two cousins were reduced to two....
He has been through too much. Too many times when I let him down, pushed him away and ignored him- stuck my nose in another book to drown out the pain that he lives with every day. Now it's my turn. My boy is never going to fight through another day without me fighting beside him.