Slytherin Tears

11. Get Out

We looked at each other as my eyes turned into anger yet blurry, I wanted nothing but to scream at him.

I slowly feel my body going down, as I shiver with my knees pulling into my chest. I could hear Umbridge whisper, 'Just like your father'.

Lena drops beside me holding me, "It's okay, he didn't mean it."

My body had goosebumps as I felt my eyes burn, I didn't want to cry. I couldn't bear living with myself when crying in front of the people I love the most.

Blaise stands in front of us, "I think you should go." He says pushing Draco back.

"What?" 

"You heard-"

"NO!" Draco screams.

"Leave," Blaise demands. 

"I'm trying to protect her, don't you guys see?"

"I don't need your protection," I look at him, "I can take care of myself." I shiver with nothing but tears dropping slowly from each eye.

"Get out," Lena said, holding onto me.

He doesn't move but stares at me; hopelessly. I look away, holding my towel tighter. 

"For fuck sakes, Draco." Lena demands, "get out!" 

"Get it through your head," Blaise pushes him again, "she doesn't like you."

"It's okay, it's okay." Lena whispered as I cry on her shoulder, "I'm here."

No one was here.

Because yet again, no one knew.

There are a hundred words I could say and they would all look at me differently.

I wanted to tell them those words, but I shouldn't. Not now, not like this.

Draco sits down on the floor in front of us, leaving Blaise still up. He quickly comes down to check on me.

I let a few breaths out before talking, I didn't make eye contact with any of them; I couldn't.

Sometimes I'm hesitant to share my story because I know there are so many people who have had it far, far worse than me, but I told them.

I told them why Darren Bailey was nothing but a name to me.

They never truly knew about him; they just knew deep down hearing someone talk about him, will make me want to do nothing but scream. 

I told them how he left a scar on my soul that I doubt will ever be healed. He would hit me maybe once every week or so, but most days he would come home angry, come up to me and get in my face, and interrogate me rapidly on what I'd done since I got home.

It scared me every day more and more, knowing he'll come home drunk or even mad, and hurt me because I'm the closest thing he had to a punching bag.

It always got worse since mom died, sometimes I'm scared to think what would happen if she was still here, and with my brother; I would rather them watch me feel pain than receive it themselves.

And as much as I hate to say it, I'm still his daughter, even if I say I'm not. 

It doesn't mean we're the same, right?

They all stayed silent when I talked, I said all I knew and all I could remember.

I know they felt bad as they all held on to me but I didn't bother to look up from the floor. I was still soaking wet; I could feel a cold coming.

"It's late," I hear Lena calmly talk, "maybe you should both go."

I watch as their shoes walk through the door, making the door creek open and their shoes tap at each step.

Lena stays there holding onto me, "I love you." she softly scoffs, "Now let's get you into a warm bath."

After getting a warm bath and into some comfy clothes, I laid inside my bed. 

Lena talked while I didn't, but she knew what I was thinking. 

I look up at the same old, plain, white ceiling.

It all felt weird, but not different.

I've never shared so much with them before, but at least now they know what I know.

~

Sorry if it's triggering, I put a warning!

It's a sad part of her life, you'll see that story soon :(