Forgiven
The next time I opened my eyes, it was nearly midday, the warm spring sun high in the sky. This time, I felt much less groggy and aching, though my head was already beginning to pound. My arm, much to my relief, no longer hurt to twist and turn it. The scabbed brown line I had seen last time I’d been conscious was now a pink line. It was noticeable, but it wasn’t viciously visible. Really, if anyone just glanced over my arm without a second thought, they might not notice it at all.
When I sat up this time, I took my time, easing myself up vertebrae by vertebrae, so as to not repeat the vomiting incident that occured last time. My head spun faintly, but that also could have been from laying down for such a long period of time. It had to have been at least a full day since I had gotten back to Hogwarts, but beyond that, I had no clue just how much time had passed. Once I was fully sitting up, I looked around to see that one other person was in the hospital wing with me, but I couldn’t see who.
My heart thudded as I realized it might be Draco, and I pulled my legs out from the confines of the crisp white linen that covered me, setting my bare feet gingerly on the cold stone floor. Madam Pomfrey, ever the watchful eye, noticed me trying to get up and came over in a whirl of tutting. “Careful, my dear, careful,” she chided, but did not try to stop me. “Your body may still be weak. You put it through quite a lot.”
“I feel much better,” I assured her, feeling my legs tingle as my blood had to pump a bit harder to get back up to my heart. “Please, can you tell me where Draco is?” I had to know if he was alright.
Madam Pomfrey looked at me solemnly. “He is just over there, but he was incredibly injured when he arrived, and he hasn’t woken since he got here. It may be...it may be some time before his body is able to let him wake up.”
“But he’s okay, right? I mean…” I trailed off, remembering the vile scent of burnt flesh and the blackened, charred state of his torso. A horrible, twisting wave of dread lapped at my feet, causing my stomach to drop as nausea hit me.
“He will be, yes,” Madam Pomfrey said. “But again, it will take time. Things may be...they may be different. He will need a lot of patience, and for the next week or so, a lot of help. Injuries from curses are much harder to heal than regular ones. If it had been a non-magical burn, he would already be up and walking, but because it was caused by magic, dark magic, the healing process is much more difficult and much more sensitive.”
It calmed the panic swelling in my chest and throat to know that Draco, eventually, would be okay. The amount of sheer fear and panic that had washed over me the moment my brain had registered he was hurt was enough to make my hands shake even now. “And Ron?”
Madam Pomfrey smiled. “Already back to normal, for the most part. Whoever healed him saved his life, without a doubt, and likely helped prevent much of the scarring that he might’ve had otherwise. I suspect his shoulder will ache at odd times, and there may always be a small amount of scarring, but nothing life-altering.”
“Can I- I mean, is it okay-”
The kind nurse nodded. “Yes, my dear, but like I said, he isn’t awake. You are welcome to sit by him though, at least for a bit. You still need rest.”
“Thank you,” I told her, but it was sort of tossed over my shoulder as I was already heading slowly towards Draco’s bed. My steps were strange and shuffling, my legs still sore from Bellatrix’s curses.
Draco was lying on his bed, so still I had to stop myself from checking that he was breathing before I saw his chest moving up and down ever so slightly. He was nearly the same color as the white sheets that covered the pillow his head was resting on. His sheets were pulled up only to his waist, so as to not irritate the gauzy bandages covering a good majority of his torso.
As I sat down in the chair next to his bed, I could smell the herbal scent of the poultice Madam Pomfrey had packed on his wound before covering it up. It wasn’t his usual smell, the smell that I had grown to know so well, and before I knew it, tears were welling up in my eyes. Draco was alive, he was here, and yet everything was so wrong. He was too pale, too still, and he smelled entirely different. I wanted my Draco, the one that smelled warm, like amber. I didn’t understand why the strange smell was making me so upset, but I couldn’t hold back the sob that tore through my chest when I thought about the drastic difference.
The sadness hit me, drowning me like a wave during a storm. I was tired of being strong and pretending like I was alright. I wanted Draco to wake up, to let me collapse against him as I let out the sobs ripping at my chest. I wanted to burrow into him, to breathe in the smell of him, to have him tell me that everything was okay and that we were safe. Draco was okay, so I didn’t understand why I could barely hold back the tears that were burning my throat. He was okay, I was okay, everyone was okay. Why did I feel like it wasn’t?
I took one of his hands in my own, intertwining my fingers with his long, slender ones whose touch I knew like the back of my hand. A pang of longing hit me so hard that I could barely pull in enough oxygen to breathe. There was nothing I wouldn’t give in that moment to have Draco wake up, to have him roll his eyes at how dramatic I was being even as he pressed his hand to my face and pulled me in for a kiss that would make my toes curl and my eyes flutter shut.
It had never hit me harder than it did in that moment just how young we were and just how unfair life had been to both of us. Whining about life being unfair never got anyone anywhere, but as I looked at Draco, I couldn’t help it. Life had been so fucking unkind to him and I, even though we’d done nothing to deserve it. Even though Draco had been horrendously unkind, and had said and done a lot of things that were so entirely wrong, he still didn’t deserve the lot he’d been given. We were nothing more than kids who had been pulled into a war against our will. A war that we both had no business fighting in at all.
I hated the fact that Draco would never be able to forget the nightmares he’d lived through, just like I would never be able to erase the scars from my skin. Draco hadn’t always been a good person, but when he’d started trying to be, everything had come crashing down. With everything I had, I hoped that the time we’d been given wasn’t all the time that we would get together. There was no telling what the future looked like for us now. Draco and his mother had abandoned the cause they’d devoted their entire lives to. Where did that leave them? There was no way they’d be able to return to Malfoy Manor, not until it had been made safe again, and Voldemort would surely have already placed targets on both of them for deserting the cause.
Would Draco even still want me when he’d seen what being with me in any sense had done to him and to his life, his family? Would he even think I was worth any of that? I wanted that answer to be yes, but the only person who could actually tell me if it was or not was lying unconscious on the bed in front of me. My eyes felt heavy with sleep, even though I had already slept for such a long time. Leaning back in my chair, one hand still grasping Draco’s, I watched him for hours, watched his chest push up and drag down.
I’d told him I was in love with him. I’d said those five words, but I don’t think either of us understood exactly how much I meant those words. The threat of losing him made me realize that the love that burned bright and strong for Draco like a torch in my chest was much larger and unyielding than I thought. So desperately did I need Draco to wake up so that I could begin proving to him just how wholly and completely I loved him. And, entirely selfishly, I needed him to wake up so I could hear if he felt for me what I felt for him.
It was so very possible that he did, but I needed to hear it from him. Hearing a confession, unbridled by family ties and reluctance and bitterness, was something that I longed for, that I ached for, more than I’d ever longed or ached for anything before. It was strange, I realized, that I had gotten over our past without even realizing it. Near-death situations had a funny way of doing that, I guess. His actions weren’t erased, especially the ones towards others, but Draco had my forgiveness. I had seen, more than anyone else, that he was changing. That he knew that he had been wrong, that his father had been feeding him lies and controlling his actions much more than one could see at first glance.
Even still, Draco’s actions weren’t justified or excused, but I knew him in a way that no one else in the world did. So perhaps it would take time for everyone else, but in my eyes, Draco had my forgiveness a million times over. I had seen the little ways Draco tried to right the wrongs of himself and others. He was growing.
The door to the hospital wing creaked open and I turned to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushing in, frantically asking Madam Pomfrey something. She answered as she gestured over to me, and the three of them practically ran over to me, looks of relief and happiness on their faces.
“Elaine!” Harry exclaimed. I jumped to my feet as he approached, and before I knew it, he was wrapping his arms around me so tightly it knocked the breath right out of my lungs. Moisture seeped through the fabric of my shirt, and I realized Harry was crying, which made my tears reappear once more. “Oh my god, you’re okay! You’re- fuck, you’re okay! You’re okay,” he repeated, his voice shaky as he cried. “When I realized you were gone, I-I didn’t know what I was going to do. I had no idea where you’d gone, but I knew-I knew it couldn’t have been good because you wouldn’t just leave Hogwarts, and I’ve never felt so fucking scared in my entire fucking life. You fucking terrified me.”
I returned Harry’s embrace, letting myself enjoy the feeling of someone holding me, even if it wasn’t the person I wanted most. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking pathetically. “I didn’t- I mean, I’d hoped you would come for me, but I-how did you even know I was gone?”
Harry pulled back, letting Ron and Hermione embrace me, Hermione’s curls smothering my face. “The map,” Harry answered. “I checked it like I do every night and you weren’t anywhere. I thought...I thought maybe you were in the Room of Requirement, so I checked there, but you weren’t. I immediately went to McGonagall, and she asked if Snape was anywhere on the map. I don’t know how she knew about the map, but I pulled it out and we looked and he was gone. So was Draco,” Harry said, his eyes darting to his still form on the bed. “And McGonagall put two and two together. If all three of you were gone at the same time, and you’d been spending time with Malfoy so much lately, she figured you were all at the same place. Snape told her and Dumbledore that Voldemort was staying at Malfoy Manor, so she Floo called Mr. Weasley, because he was on duty for the Order last night, or two nights ago, I guess, and we all came as quickly as we could.”
Ron nodded, and I noticed the movement was stiff. His neck was still pink and red, but still better than it had been at Malfoy Manor. “She put up a hell of fight, telling us we weren’t allowed to come along. We wouldn’t hear of it, though. Hermione...Hermione told her that if she didn’t take us along, she would just take us there herself, since she’d already learned to Apparate. That last bit was news to me,” Ron laughed softly, his eyes shining with admiration as he looked at his girlfriend. “But McGonagall finally gave in. She told us before we went that it was dangerous and that if it came down to it, we might be injured, or even die. But obviously, we all already knew that and coming for you wasn’t even a question.”
“You almost did both, you bloody idiot,” Hermione added softly, her voice thick with rueful sorrow. “I would’ve saved you and killed you myself for being so stupidly brave if Malfoy and his mum hadn’t beaten me to it.”
Ron pulled Hermione to him, placing a gentle kiss to the top of her wild mane of hair. “I know, love. I know.” As I watched my friends, I savored the knowledge that at least they were alright. Much was wrong, but my friends were alive and we were all together.
It also made my chest tighten sorrowfully as I realized I wished for Draco’s arm to be wrapped around me like that, holding me like I was the most precious thing in the world. The adoration and pure love present in Ron’s eyes made my heart ache in the most bittersweet way imaginable. “I can’t believe you all came for me,” I confessed quietly, feeling that ugly fear lurching in my gut that I felt while sitting in the Malfoy’s cellar, alone and in the dark. “I didn’t- I hoped, you know, but…” I couldn’t quite voice that I had thought that either no one would notice, or if they did, that no one would think I was worth the risk to save.
My friends’ faces all dropped, pinching with sadness. “Of course we did,” Hermione replied, as if it was the only possible thing they could’ve done. “I’m just grateful we made it in time. I thought we would be too late. We’d no idea how long you’d been gone, or if you were even at Malfoy Manor.”
“Thankfully, McGonagall never liked Snape much, and she’d been keeping a close eye on him for years. If she had just blindly trusted Dumbledore like everyone else, I don’t know if we would’ve ever found you,” Harry said softly, as if he were thinking about if things had gone that route instead.
“We should’ve listened to you, Harry. About Snape, I mean,” Hermione admitted.
Ron nudged her gently. “You mean, you should have listened to him. I’ve not liked that greasy git since the Sorting ceremony our first year.” Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but pressed in closer to him. “I wonder what’s going to happen to him. There’s no way Dumbledore will forgive him after we tell him what Snape did, will he?”
Harry sighed. “I don’t know. Dumbledore has forgiven him for a lot of things, things that Snape doesn’t deserve forgiveness for even now. I don’t understand Dumbledore. Every time something happens, somehow he has some sort of part in it, and I don’t...I don’t know what to think of him anymore.”
Harry looked incredibly nervous as he confessed his mistrust in one of his most beloved mentors, but I had to agree with him. I didn’t like that Dumbledore continually had such a large part in everything going on, even the terrible things. “There’s still a lot that I don’t think the lot of you know about.”
“We can talk about that another time, though,” Hermione suggested. “For now, let’s just enjoy the fact that everyone is okay. That everything is okay, at least for right now. You’ve been through too much over the past two days, Elaine. You deserve a break from all of this.”
The lingering fright and painful memories that threatened to surface were difficult to shove down and ignore, but I did my best. “It’s really alright. It could’ve been worse.”
Harry let out a choked laugh, one that was underlined with heavy emotion. “How did I know that’s what you were going to say?” He shook his head, his eyes bright as tears welled up within them. “You...fuck, I mean you got fucking splinched and went head to head with Voldemort, and just that is fucking terrifying. We don’t even know what actually happened to you. Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t tell anyone other than McGonagall and Flitwick, and I’m guessing even she doesn’t know everything. You were...I mean, they kidnapped you and kept you there, and you say you’re bloody alright?” Harry laughed again, tears distorting the bitter sound. “You don’t always have to be alright. In fact, it worries me much more hearing you say that you are than if you were a complete fucking mess. I think you’ve earned the right to have a bit of a breakdown by now.”
I hadn’t realized that they didn’t actually know what had happened to me. They knew bits and pieces, according to Harry, but they didn’t know about Bellatrix using the Cruciatus curse, or being locked in the cellar, or Voldemort telling Snape to kill me in order to redeem himself. Sitting back down in the chair next to Draco’s bed, I decided that telling the three of them at the very least was a good place to start, because I knew that there were many more questions coming my way in the near future. If I talked about it first with my friends, perhaps the rest of the times people asked for the story wouldn’t be so bad. “Bellatrix used the Cruciatus curse on me,” I began, finding it hard to make my voice louder than a cracked whisper as the memory of pure agony ripped through me, making my body ache at the thought. I heard small gasps from my friends, but I continued, knowing that if I stopped, I wouldn’t be able to start again. “More than once,” I added, unable to stop the rueful laugh that escaped. “It...the pain- there’s no way to-”
“Lainy, you don’t have to-” Harry started.
“No.” I shook my head. “Please. I just- I have to talk about it, okay? I can- I can handle it.” His nod was slow, unconvinced, but I proceeded. “It feels like every single centimetre of your body is being torn apart and set on fire and it...it doesn’t stop right away, after the curse stops. It- it keeps going, for minutes afterwards. Just burning and aching and hurting.” Hermione placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and I leaned into it, just the tiniest bit. A pit gaped open in my stomach, leaking out dread and filling my chest and throat with it.
“Voldemort...he knew about me, I guess. I accidentally overheard Snape talking to him one day, and Snape caught me and he locked me in his office and interrogated me.” As I spoke, I realized just how much my friends didn’t know. “Draco was there, and before you say anything, he didn’t hurt me. He actually helped me. He told Snape he would Obliviate me, and Snape had to leave, so he thought that Draco did it, but he didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you tell us about that?” Harry asked, hurt threaded through his voice.
I raised an eyebrow. “You and I haven’t exactly been on speaking terms since Christmas, have we?” Harry looked down guilty at his feet. “But I’m telling you now, aren’t I?
“Voldemort knew about me, and I mean that he knew everything about me. He knew who my parents were, what House I was in, even what subjects I was best at. Probably all thanks to Snape, I guess. They had a meeting of some sort, and I saw everyone that was there, though I don’t think many of the names would be much of surprise to anyone. He also knew that,” I glanced at Draco’s sleeping form, his eyelashes fluttering faintly, “ah, that, um, Draco and I were close. Or that we’d been spending some time together this year. Voldemort also knew that you and I were friends,” I said, looking at Harry. “He didn’t know we’d...well, he thought we were on good terms, and he...he said I’d be useful because of that.”
I hadn’t wanted to tell Harry that, because I knew he’d feel guilty and responsible, even though that wasn’t the case at all. “God, Elaine, I’m so sorry,” Harry stammered. “If- just because of me, you were hurt.”
“If I wasn’t your friend, I doubt that Voldemort would’ve let me live as long as he did. It’s not your fault. Any of this. It’s mine, if anything. I kept poking around places I shouldn’t have and looking into things I should’ve left alone. I just,” my voice cracked, and I swallowed loudly, “thought I could actually do some good, for once. You’d think I’d be smarter than that, wouldn’t you?”
“You can’t blame yourself,” Ron argued, a surprising amount of defiance in his voice. “I won’t let you. None of this is your fault.”
I shrugged. I’d had plenty of time to think of just exactly how it was my fault, but I didn’t have the energy to debate with Ron about it right at that moment. “I guess we can argue about that later.
“Voldemort told Draco to take me down to the cellar, because I guess they had something to attend to, but they didn’t say what. Draco brought me down, and he took my wand, and…” Draco’s words ran through my mind, his voice like the caress of velvet even in a situation where my very life was being threatened. “I was down there for a while. I don’t really know how long, to be honest. Long enough that it was dark when Draco came back down. He still had my wand, and he slipped it back to me before bringing me back up.” I was determined to emphasize every single way that Draco had helped me while I’d been at Malfoy Manor, because I needed to prove to my friends that he had changed.
“When he brought me back up, Voldemort was back, with Bellatrix and Snape and Draco’s parents. Voldemort started going on about how- how I don’t deserve magic. About how I stole my magic, and that the world would be better off without filth like me in it.” I sensed Hermione flinching at my words, but I had to get them out, even though I felt horrible for making her hear what I had to hear. “And then...Bellatrix…” The words wouldn’t come out, no matter how hard I tried, but from the expressions of my friends, I knew they understood. “Voldemort started asking me about you, Harry. What you’d been up to, what Dumbledore was getting you to do. I didn’t- I promise I didn’t tell him anything,” I told the three of them imploringly. “I swear, I didn’t-”
“I know, Elaine. No one would blame you even if you did,” Harry said, doing his best to mask the pain in his voice.
Holding back the urge to sob, I took those words and tucked them deep within me, making sure to remember them for later, when I would surely need them. “I lied to him, when I could. And when I wouldn’t answer, Bellatrix would do...it again.” Letting out a soft snort, I continued. “You know what’s funny?”
“How could anything about this possibly be funny?” Ron asked, looking at Harry and Hermione like maybe I’d lost my mind. I hadn’t; it might’ve made everything much easier if I had.
I ignored him and the looks my friends were giving me. “If Voldemort hadn’t been such a bloody elitist and just used Legilimency, he would’ve gotten all the information he was looking for. He said my mind was too dirty for him to even consider doing that.”
“So what exactly did you tell him?” Harry asked.
“I told him that Dumbledore was training you to replace him, but that he didn’t think you were doing good enough at all yet. And Draco backed me up, even though I didn’t tell him to. He kind of just went along with whatever I said, saying you’d barely been in class this year. Voldemort bought it rather easily, but I think that was because he wanted it to be true, you know? I told him that Dumbledore was trying to force Harry to lead, but that Harry didn’t want to because he never even wanted to fight in the first place.”
Harry’s mouth twitched up in a bitter ghost of a smile, acknowledging that that bit, at least, had been true. “Then Voldemort said that Dumbledore was going to be taken care of soon, whatever that means. And then...well, this maybe wasn’t the wisest choice on my part, but I told Voldemort that Snape had been working with Dumbledore.”
“You ratted Snape out?” Ron asked incredulously. “Voldemort didn’t already know that?”
“He did,” I confirmed. “But he thought that Snape must not have been very careful, if I found out that he was spying for Voldemort and for Dumbledore. He said that perhaps Snape hadn’t been as careful as he’d claimed. I...I honestly thought Voldemort knew what Snape was doing, but I guess he didn’t. Voldemort got rather angry at him, but I didn’t-”
“It’s okay. You didn’t do it to actually put him in danger,” Hermione assured me. “We know you didn’t.”
The amount of relief that surrounded me was enough to make me have to clear my throat before I could speak again. I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed to hear those words. Nothing I had done was done with the intention of hurting someone else. I had just wanted to get out of there alive. “It kind of backfired on me, though, because Voldemort told Snape that if he wanted to prove himself, he only needed to kill me, and Snape would be forgiven.”
“He didn’t say yes, did he?” Hermione asked timidly, as if she were afraid to hear the answer.
“Right away. Didn’t even think about it.” Ron, Harry, and Hermione all widened their eyes, Hermione sucking in a surprised breath. “Or, at least, he didn’t say no immediately. It took…” I paused, my eyes landing on Harry as I thought about what had happened next. “I’m sorry, Harry, I don’t…”
Harry’s face flatted with understanding. “My mum.”
I decided that, at least for now, Harry didn’t need to hear the specifics of that exchange. There was no reason for him to hear about Snape only working with Dumbledore to try and save his mother, and that when Lily hadn’t lived, Snape had immediately gone running back to his Death Eater friends. “And right as Snape was about to do it, that’s when you all showed up. If you hadn’t shown up right when you did, I would’ve died.” I hadn’t let myself actually internalize that yet, but it was true. Snape’s wand was pointed at my head, entirely ready to say the two words that would’ve ended my life before I even really had a chance to live it.
My friends looked at me with varying degrees of shock and painful sorrow on their faces as they took in my story. It wasn’t as hard to tell as I thought it would be-- I assumed I wouldn’t even be able to get through it. The hardest part was talking about the Cruciatus curse. Every time I so much as thought about it, I had to fight the urge to lean over and throw up. It was as if even the memory of the curse could cause pain, because it didn’t feel like a memory. The pain felt real, if diminished a bit, every time I’d thought or spoken about it.
“I think we should let you rest,” Hermione said, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over us since I finished my story. “But we’ll come visit again, okay? Let us know if you need anything.” I nodded.
She and Ron stood to leave, but Harry said, “I’ll catch up with you in just a moment.” Harry turned to me as they left, and I could barely handle the amount of pain and sorrow etched so deeply into his face. “Elaine, god, I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. Please, just let me talk,” he said when he saw me start to protest. My heart wrenched, telling me that I could handle little more emotionally today, but on some level, I understood that he needed to talk as much as I needed to hear him. “I know you told me not to blame myself, but I do. How could I not? I wasn’t there for you this year, the year that you’ve needed me more than any other. I...fuck, I abandonded you. I was bitter and childish and stupid and I was so bloody proud and pissed off that I wasn’t able grow up enough to truly apologize to you. And god, the things I said to you. I’ll understand completely if you’re never able to fully forgive me. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fully forgive myself. No matter how angry I was at you, I should’ve been there for you anyway. I don’t get you and Malfoy, if I’m being honest, and I was fucking livid that you were with him, because maybe on some level, I still felt something for you.
“Maybe I don’t know why you’ve gotten so close to Malfoy, but the fact that he’s been there for you more this year than I have is fucking unforgiveable on my part. I mean, what kind of shit friend am I that someone like Malfoy supported you more than I have? But that’s not the point,” Harry said decidedly. “The point is that I failed you this year, as both a boyfriend and a friend, and I am going to do whatever it takes to make that up to you. And as for the whole Malfoy thing…” Harry sighed, brushing his hair from his face. “I can’t say that I’ll be okay with it right away, or that I’ll ever truly be entirely okay with it. But the Malfoy that I saw at Malfoy Manor, the Malfoy that you talked about, is a different one than I know, and that means he’s changing. Or at least trying to change. And if he’s trying, then so can I.”
Harry looked at me, then at Draco. “I don’t know if I can forgive him any time soon, because I think that he has more things he has to make up for still, but I’ll try. I don’t know the whole story, but I guess he isn’t who I always thought he was, is he? He saved two of the most important people to me in less than an hour, and he’s saved your life at least once this year, too. And you, Elaine, are more important to me than almost anyone in the entire world. So I guess that- that Malfoy is...isn’t all bad.” It looked like it pained him just to say it, but it made me happy that he still chose to admit it.
“No,” I answered, intertwining my fingers with Draco’s again. “He isn’t. He isn’t even who I thought he was. I won’t lie to you, he isn’t always kind. We...we irritate each other and he makes me so bloody angry sometimes, and yet…” I brushed a thumb across his hand, pale blue veins visible beneath his snowy skin. “He’s saved me this year, in ways that I barely understand myself. Draco gets me in ways that no one has, and it seems like he always knows exactly how I’m feeling and what I need before I do. And you’re right, he has so much to make up for, but I think that I’ve forgiven him.”
Saying the words out loud only made me feel more sure. “I’m sick of being angry and holding grudges and letting the past still hurt me. So I forgive him, because Draco needs it right now, more than anything. I know that he hates himself. He pretends to be haughty and proud, but I know that there is so much about himself that he despises. Nothing really excuses his actions, but he’s done enough that I can forgive him. More than forgiveness, though, he needs kindness. He needs to be shown what it feels like to feel loved and to feel like there is a place for him where he can grow and learn and make mistakes without being hurt.”
I saw the faint pink scarring criss-crossing his chest, remnants of his father’s fury and disappointment. “Lucius is a lot like my father,” I confessed to Harry.
Harry knew me well enough that that was all I had to say. His brows knitted together, his hands twisting in his lap. “I...I had no idea.”
“You wouldn’t. He learned how to hide it. And I guess because of that, we had this odd sort of connection, you know? Like he got that I didn’t want pity because of my father, and he didn’t let me wallow after Christmas when he saw me with that black eye. He was actually the first person to see it. And, god, it was months ago, practically the start of the year, but I stumbled across him after he’d gone home for a bit. He was a bloody mess. I don’t know why I did, but I helped him. He and I weren’t even-- he was still nothing but the mean and vicious Malfoy I’d known for years at that point.” I sighed, rolling my shoulders back. They’d started to ache from how tightly and stiffly I’d been sitting. “There’s so much you don’t know about this year, Harry. But I want to tell you all of it, eventually.”
“I’ve got a lot to tell you, though I think you’ve got me beat this year for worst story,” he joked. Harry saw me gazing at Draco, wishing that he could hear me say everything I had just told Harry. “I’ll let you rest,” Harry told me. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was. How sorry I still am. I’m going to make it up to you.”
I hugged Harry first this time, almost as tightly as he had hugged me. “I know. I forgave you while I was at Malfoy Manor. Worried that you’re going to be killed kind of forces you to put things into perspective, you know?”
Harry laughed softly, and this time, it was a happy laugh. “You’re too good for this world, Elaine. You’ve been put through so much shit, and you should be bitter, but you aren’t.”
“I was,” I argued. “For a long time. Too long. I guess...I guess honestly, I’m just tired of being bitter. All the small things I held against people seemed so stupid when I realized I might not see those people again.”
Harry placed a kiss on my forehead as he let go of me. “You are a good person, Elaine. One of the best I’ve ever met. Get some rest.”