Something Golden

24.

February 26 1996

We're down by the black lake, my back propped against the base of the tree while she sits between my legs. It's still a bit cold out so most students prefer to stay indoors which allows us to come out here undisturbed "Can you show me how to make one?" She asks, holding up the paper crane I made for her. I tear a piece of paper out of my notebook and walk her through the steps while she watches carefully, mimicking each fold I make.

By the end I have a perfectly made paper crane while she has one that looks like it was in a terrible accident. She instantly tears out another piece of paper and commands me to show her again, Granger does not take well to being bad at something.

After a few more failed attempts she calls it a day, pouting of course. "I'll make you as many as you'd like." I tell her. "No need to be a brat about it."

"I'm not being a brat." She whines.

"Right." I chuckle. "Not at all."

She sits up and turns to face me, eyes narrowed as she attempts to look intimidating. "Come here you wretch." I grab her by the waist and draw her into me, her hands resting on my knees to support her weight as our lips meet.

Things have been better since our excursion to London, the only fights we've had were over her greedy hands eating all of the sweets. Knox seems to have taken the hint and left her be, Weasley not so much but that is a more difficult task as he just has to be one of her best friends but at least the physical contact has become minimal.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes, it's my natural color." I reply.

"No, not that." She smiles, rolling her eyes as she sits back down. "What's the scar from that's on your right shoulder blade."

It takes me a moment to realize what she's referring to, I mean I don't see the bloody thing since it's on my back and my friends know better than to ever bring it up to me after what happened when Pansy had asked third year.

"My father." I simply state, praying that she doesn't ask any further questions but of course she does.

"Why did he-how did he-"

"Like I told you awhile back Granger, nothing is ever good enough for him, especially me."

"So he hurt you because you disappointed him?" She asks.

"In simple terms." I shrug. She's not going to let this go, she'll chew away at her entire cheek if I don't go into further details. I let out a sigh before continuing. "When his friends asked who was top of our class I couldn't tell them that it was me. He waited until they left to bury a knife in my back, couldn't let them know he had a failure son and that he was abusive."

Granger is silent as she gives me that look that I loathe, the same one Pansy and all of my friends gave me when they first found out the type of man my father truly is. I hate it. I don't want to be pitied. People pity the weak and I am not weak. I'm not damaged or some delicate thing that needs to be handled with care. I have a shitty father and a mother who refuses to ever stand up for herself but that does not warrant me sympathy.

"Do I need to go break some fourth year's leg to wipe that dreadful look off your face?"

"Why do you do that Draco?"

"Do what?"

"Deflect." She states. "And act like your trauma isn't a big deal."

"Trauma?" I laugh. "I assure you Granger, my father driving a blade into me was not traumatic. It was painful, yeah, but expected. Did you really think he was the type of parent to slap me on the back of the wrist and tell me to try harder next time?"