Disclaimer: HP's not mine. It's JKR's and other related companies. Go bug somebody else about it.
Author's Note: This goes out to those who asked for Harry's point of view – LilMarlene2004, Spacegal and Ashley Potter13. Sappier and cornier than I intended it to be, but – hope you enjoy it!
This also goes out to the one and only Kalie – happy anniversary, and hope you're happy with this!
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I used to think that to hold hands showed cowardice, and that it was a false way of saying that two people were in love. To do that was a way of telling the world 'Here! This is why we're in love, because we hold each other's hands.'
That was a sardonic and bitter way of looking at it, I know. But that was what I had thought before – now, it's different. I know the real meaning of holding hands, thanks to you.
I've never been one to show affection, much less receive it. All my life I hadn't gotten any sign that the Dursleys loved me, and I didn't expect to get any soon. I wasn't comfortable with showing and receiving affection, because I hadn't had any in my eleven years of life.
You were the first person, back when we were eleven, to give me a hug, and every year after that you tried to show, in a seemingly small way or another, that you cared. That you cared about me.
Whether you gave me a piece of toast for breakfast when no one else would talk to or even look at me or you urged me to learn as many spells, charms, hexes and jinxes as I could to help me defeat Voldemort, you tried to show, instead of tell, that you cared about me and my well-being.
You didn't mother me; you gave me my space when I needed it, and tried to lift my spirits up when I was feeling down. You were my only true friend, besides Ron. It was all "give but no taking" with you; you freely gave but never expected anything in return.
As long as the person appreciated it, and tried to give you back something in return – or showed in some way that he cared – you were happy. "My happiness is knowing that the people I care about are happy," you once told me. "And if they are, then I'm happy, for myself and for them."
You were always unselfish; and I tried to be that, to live up to your expectations. Maybe I didn't live up to the 'hero' that everyone else saw, but I lived up to the true hero I was, in your eyes.
Maybe that was what made me start to show – outwardly – that I cared about everyone around me, including you. In slight but significant ways, I let them know that I thought about them and their welfare – either by a concerned look or making sure they weren't attacked by giant half-brothers. And I guess – no, know – that I have you to thank for it.
That night at the Department of Mysteries shines prominently in my mind – when there was nothing but spells, jinxes and hexes being thrown at us, and we were a blur to the Death Eaters, trying to dodge their attacks as best as we could and answer with onslaughts of our own. I remember dragging you along with me, trying to protect you as best as I could, and still somehow manage to survive.
To you I was your support and protector, and always there for you whenever you needed me, and there was no one else you could turn to. I was someone who could understand what you felt, and why you felt that way.
I was your friend . . who tried to save you from any danger and harm, and listened to you whenever you needed a listener. Your best friend, that's what I was – and what you considered me as.
Somehow, in these five years we've been going to Hogwarts, I started to show, in my own way, that I cared about you and everyone else around me – Ron, his family, Professor Lupin . . and Sirius.
You made me open up, little by little, to you and Ron . . and everyone else. And slowly, I realized that all the hand clasping and arm grabbing we had been doing for years had finally come to this – the line between friendship and love.
And we crossed that line, without even knowing it, or even thinking about it. It had also made us realize that we would always be there for each other, no matter what happened. And holding your hand with my own had made that a reality.
I have to marvel now, at how far holding hands took us. It wasn't just out of comfort that we did it, or just an automatic reaction – or Merlin, even out of shock and wanting something to secure us – and make us feel safe.
Not because we were scared – something had to steady us and bring us back to Earth . . and somehow, feeling the warmth of your hand against mine, did that. It brought me back to Earth and reminded me that as long as I was alive, I had people to protect and care about me.
So it wasn't out of cowardice that we held hands – we did it because we were comfortable with it, and showed the lengths we would go to protect one another. It, in a word, showed how we loved each other – by one single gesture, and that we didn't do it to show off. Sincerity was shown every time our hands clasped together.
I used to think that to hold hands showed cowardice – but now I know that it showed trust, love and sacrifice. And whenever we hold hands now, I know we'll never let go.