Hidden Feelings - A Draco Malfoy Love Story

Chapter Ten

A/N I'm trying to write longer chapters so this one has more than usual :) Enjoy!

"Hi, Harry," I say, sitting down next to him at the common room table. He looks up from his work, a smile spreading over his face. I gesture to my textbook, parchment that I had tucked inside sticking out. "Do you mind if I do my homework here?"

"Of course not," he replies. "As long as you're okay with me asking pointless questions every two minutes."

I laugh, pulling out the papers. Neither of us say anything as I set up all of my things, but I can feel his eyes on me, and I look up.

"Are you alright?" I ask him.

"Yes," he says carefully. "Elizabeth...can I tell you something?"

I hide my surprise that he wants to confide in me for something and nod. I pull my hands away from the book, setting them in my lap as I shift in my seat so I'm facing him.

"Of course."

"When you left the hospital wing, Lupin came to visit," he tells me. "I...I just had to ask about the dementors again. I've already started learning how to fight them, but when they came at me...well, I forgot it all. I couldn't even move, let alone try and cast a spell. I know that they don't affect everyone like this."

I remember the feeling I had when they came near us; yes, I was scared, but I don't think I would have passed out like Harry did.

"He told me that it's because my past is worse than most," he pushes out, casting his eyes toward the ground. "The scream...it was my mother. When she died."

I find myself struggling to find words. What do you say to that? I'm sorry? It's not like I know how he feels.

"I...I can't imagine having to hear something like that," I finally say, and his eyes meet mine once again. "Something you barely even remember...but something you understand well enough to feel pain from."

He slowly nods. "I'm-I'm sorry, I just wanted to explain it to someone else...and I felt like you would understand."

I hesitate. "Thank you. I'm glad that you trust me."

He nods again before looking down at his paper again, his fingers reaching out to take his quill. I, however, don't move toward my work again.

"I hear my parents, too."

He freezes. It takes him a moment to look up at me again.

"When the dementors come," I elaborate. "My parents didn't love each other anymore, and that was why they divorced. It all seemed so easy at first...but it was me...it was me that made them hate each other with all their hearts."

I pause, but he doesn't say anything. He just watches me.

"They yelled. All the time," I continue. "They said horrible things...they brought up every last reason why the other shouldn't get to keep me. One night, my father couldn't take it any longer, and just told my mother to take me. We moved two days later."

Harry takes a shaky breath. "I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything, then," I say with a weak smile. "I know, with what has happened to you, it doesn't seem like much...I just...I always feel like my parents divorcing hurt me harder than it does most others. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be complai-"

"So what if your experiences aren't as bad as mine?" He furrows his eyebrows a little. "It hurt you. And that's all that matters. I won't feel offended because you decide to complain about something that isn't as bad as what happened to me. I trust you, and...to be honest, there's no one else I'd rather talk to about my past than you. It makes me happy to know that you feel the same."