Harry Potter had always been a pretty little thing.
Even though he held untold amounts of magical power within him, he always appeared to be frail, breakable; like a china doll. I spent most of my classes trying to discover how far he could be pushed until he shattered. No matter how far I pushed him, he never shattered; I don't believe he even cracked. It never made sense until I learned of his relatives, the ones he lived with. That's when it clicked.
Harry Potter was used to being broken.
I wondered, after his Seventh Year began, why he was in a relationship with Draco Malfoy of all people. His friend, Weasley, would have come running, given the chance. He would have treated him better than Draco. Even I would have treated him better than Draco. But Potter stuck with him. I always wondered why, as Draco was worse than I was. I knew for a fact that Draco hit him; everyone did. It infuriated both Weasley and Granger, and myself, but as long as Potter didn't ask for help, we were powerless. Draco would never stop, not until Potter ran from him. By then, it would be too late.
Draco Malfoy, ever since he was small, had loved to break pretty little things.
-End-Voice Off Camera: Oh, my god. You actually wrote something under five hundred words. Shall we rant about how much it sucks?
Silent: Can we just leave it at 'I wrote it at some point in 2006 when I was depressed' and 'Review please'?
VOC: Sounds good to me.
Silent: Okay then; review, please!