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Harry knew he wasn't well-liked, and, if he was being honest, he quite liked it that way. The experiences of his first eleven years had taught him that getting close to others only led to pain and misery (Lie, Harry would do anything to have someone to be more than just an ugly burden. He would love a little approval and attention but no one but Harry should know that)
Maybe he deserved it, but if he could avoid it, he would, as much as he possibly could. That was, of course, until his dumb heart decided, without consulting anyone, to fall head over heels for the most beautiful and conceited being Harry had ever met. (It's not like Harry disagreed, but then again, only he should know)
