The Girl Who Lived

Abominations & Bastards

TW: mentions of child abuse.

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"My father resents me," Draco said cautiously. The familiar fury lit Elena up. "Always has, always will. I don't mind- I resent him more, if it's possible."

"It's quite humorous, don't you reckon?" Elena smirked. "The hatred of the world, the scars, the crippling daddy issues- we are different sides of the same fucked up coin."

At that, he scoffed but deep down, he knew she was right. They were the same but all different at the same time.

Both on the brink of insanity, hurting beyond what they can express, the creatures that lurk beneath their well-kept appearances, they were all the same.

"The first time he hurt me was when I was eight. At first, it was nothing more than a simple beating for calling my father's sister a wench. Pointless little reasons, such as that bastard of your father made up for you. I didn't finish dinner, a beating would follow. I was polite to the help, a beating to make me learn my place as an heir. I ran around with the house-elf, a beating."

His family's house-elf was Dobby, who now worked in the kitchens of Hogwarts.

A kind and warm-hearted creature he was, always making sure his friends were graciously happy with everything in their lives and if they were not... Well, that was not an option for those who befriended Dobby.

Dobby the free elf had come to patch Elena up during the lowest points in her life, to hold her hand and make sure she knew she would live to see a brighter day. A friend who tried to protect her since the very beginning and he surely would be until the very end.

He had come to her house in Winburn when she had been whipped by her father after sending word to him in Malfoy Manor. He was there within seconds, every single time without falter.

"I was eight and was able to hold it together through beatings, I got through it. When he would finish, I-" He cut himself off, turning away with his jaw tight.

He flinched so slightly she could've imagined it but Elena knew all of his tells by now.

The way his brow was scrunched, his nostrils threatening to flare, his lips were open an inch, she knew it meant he felt the pain of each blow.

He could still feel it after all these years. And sitting here with him, she felt it too.

Something curled around his neck, as if to comfort him. He opened his eyes and saw the swirling black air graze his neck.

He didn't flinch- he relaxed.

"You may not be open to having me touch you but they," Elena pointed to the brave shadow that had been her best friend since she could remember. "seem to have a mind of their own. They like and care for you."

He glanced up and there was no pity in her eyes. Only kindness, unrelenting kindness for what he had done. For what he had saved her from.

He straightened.

"I don't need your comfort and your strange need to care for me." He inhaled sharply, waving away the shadow. It skittered back roughly but still kept near.

Elena recoiled, sitting up fully. "Am I supposed to deny I care for you?"

Her question struck him like a blow from his father.

She cared for him. She cared and he cared for her. He cared for her and it was the best he could do.

She deserved more than him, he thought. She deserved the entire damn world but he couldn't give it to her.