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The Truth About Harry by Rylee
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The Truth About Harry

Rylee

He danced with me. If you need to know when everything changed, that was the moment. When everything was going to hell around us, when all that we faced threatened to overwhelm us, when the one person that we'd both counted on to come through for us decided to cut and run-he danced with me. Everything was weighing on him so heavily at that point. I knew he was scared, and frustrated and unsure of himself. How could a person not be when they have that much on their shoulders? To say that he'd lost so much sounds trite. It doesn't even begin to cover the reality of his life. He'd lost-everything. Everyone that he'd ever cared about, or depended upon, or needed-he'd lost them all. Three of them had been murdered in front of his eyes. One had chosen to leave him, had just decided to walk away.

The world that he was fighting to save had treated him like dirt, worse really, since his infancy, and he was still willing to lay down his life for them. The injustice that was his life was never lost on me, not really. I always understood it. I failed to acknowledge it, in some of my more selfish moments, but I never forgot. I never forgot that he had truly gotten the short straw in the karma draw of life. If there was such a thing as karma, it was a completely cocked up system.

If I had anything to do with his lot, and I'm quite certain that I did, I owed him as much happiness as I could give him. And I had failed. I didn't deserve his concern or his pity. And in true Harry style, I received it anyway. I was pouting. There's no other way to put it. I was pouting because Ron had left us and I was angry at Harry because he hadn't been patient enough with Ron. I can be, I know now, a vile bitch sometimes. This is the simple truth and it's just as truthful to say that I was horrible to Harry after he left. I was selfish and Harry paid the price.

He didn't make me grovel. He should have, he would have been more than justified, but he didn't. Instead, when the universe that was demanding so much from him was giving him less than nothing in return, Harry stood up and walked over to me and took my hands. He pulled me to my feet, took that blasted Horcrux from my neck and he danced with me. The most amazing thing is-he didn't do it for himself. He did it for me. He did it to make me smile. He did it in the hopes that I would, for a few moments, forget that Ron had walked out. He did it to make me feel better.

With the fate of the wizarding world resting on his shoulders, he was worried about me.

Harry isn't amazing because he saved the world. He's amazing because he's kind and sweet and brave and wonderful. He's amazing because he gives without asking what's in it for him. He's amazing because he doesn't know just how amazing he is. I love him for all that is he, and all that he is not and all the reasons that I discover every day. I love him because he's Harry. I love him because he danced with me.

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