It was lovely, of course – the snogging, that is. The rest of the date left Harry with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. How could he really connect with someone if he couldn’t tell them about himself? His childhood was traumatic, his life under the looming spectre of Voldemort even more so, but they were also foundational elements of who he was. How could he ever grow close to someone who didn’t know these things about him?