Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
OTP Boot Camp - 47. Kindness
Kindness was something he had never known before.
It was one of those things he had never been allowed in the orphanage. He had never been taught of such a thing as kindness. He had been taught cruelty, power and retribution. They had been lessons well learned, painfully well learned.
He had been the little outsider within the orphanage, the one child who even the caregivers wished he had never been born. He had endured it all, the mocking, the taunting and the bullying from the other children at the orphanage simply because he was different from anyone else.
He had never had any friends. He probably had wished for a friend when he had been younger but that had been so long ago that he could not remember it. It was another one of those lessons, freaks did not need friends. He had not made any friends, he only had companions that were there because they were useful.
Such a foreign emotion and action that had been a part that had been absent for all of his life, he had never had to deal with it before and thus he now was entirely unequipped to deal with such an action now.
His eyes followed the arm that was held out for him to take, to help him stand. He took in the strangely kind expression on that face, the ruffled black hair and those intense green eyes for a moment, not knowing what else to do.
Kindness always came with a price. He wondered what this boy wanted in exchange for his actions. He knew instinctively that taking the green-eyed boy's hand would mean that he would have to be grateful towards the other boy. He did not want to be indebted to this boy, he did not want to be indebted to anyone.
He had made all those other boys go away though. He had not seen what exactly the other boy had done but it had made the bullies flee the scene without looking back and without another word. Surely taking the boy's hand after that would not mean that he would be much more indebted to the boy.
It was a farce. It could only be a farce designed by those caregivers to hurt him again. No one was ever kind to him. No one would bother to help him without expecting anything in return. No one cared. These were the simple facts he had learned ever since he was a mere child. He did not understand what had come between him and his instincts at that moment of hesitation. He had opened himself to getting hurt. He could not afford to do so again.
He ignored the offered hand and stood by himself, brushing off the sand that had managed to cling onto his clothes. The hand retracted making him feel a lot more comfortable. He only nodded in thanks, noticing the small wry almost understanding smile on the other boy's face, before heading back to the orphanage without turning to look back.
It was getting late. The matron would be shutting the gates to the orphanage soon.