𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖣𝖤𝖵𝖨𝖫𝖲 𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤𝖫 (𝐹𝑙𝑒𝑢𝑟 𝐷𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟)

𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚎:

The Monroes had a reputation to uphold whenever they stepped foot out of their private manor as prying eyes always invaded their life. Rita Skeeter, a nosy woman who always sported a bright green color with an obnoxious smile, seemed to be stalking the Monroes as wherever they went she seemed to appear.

They were well known in the wizarding world for being one of the richest families and apart of the secret 28. Their house words were; power, honor and riches though, many saw through the facade that the family put on and had their own impressions about what they were.

Many changed the house words to; death, greed and rotten, many unfortunate souls had tested their luck against the family and ended up with less limbs than they came in with.

Sebastian Monroe was a name that almost everyone knew and those who didn't could only wish that they never wandered onto their property as an intense wave of pain would be waiting to crash over them. He was the man filled with hate and wouldn't hesitate to take it out on his own blood, wouldn't hesitate to take it out on anyone he saw that he didn't like the look of.

Though, Katherine Monroe was a different kind of soul, still the same twisted creature on the inside but she was the one who only showed her hate for the world upon her own children . Katherine had to keep up the pleasing smile and stoic stance to warn off any onlookers that couldn't keep their business to themselves. Yet, the facade could fall once the family was behind closed doors and every emotion of anger and resentment could be shown by the bruises and cuts on Silas Monroe, their son.

Silas Monroe had first gotten a taste of pain when he had tripped and grazed his knee on the pavement outside their house when he was four. But, the agony he had to endure two years later seemed in fathomable, when he was a boy of six he'd always been a curious one. Leading him to follow the house-elf's and sneak into the kitchen with them to give them bits of his food, the elves always had tears in their eyes as they accepted the food with bashful bows.

And that simple kind act had led him to bare his first scar from the cigar of Sebastian, he'd caught him running out of the kitchen and noticed the house-elf's scoffing their faces with food. He turned to the young boy who stared at him like a deer in headlights and took the cigar from his lips only to place the end on the boys outstretched forearm. His first burn but it certainly wasn't his last.

With endless tears he clutched his arm whilst sobbing into his little sisters arms who was crying along side him as they held his arm under the running tap of cold water.

His sister, Isabelle Monroe, had only received the occasional hit on the head from Sebastian if he'd thrown a book from the library when he was in his drunken stage of rage. However, the next day he'd hear Katherine shouting at the man for hitting their little girl but when it was Silas there was silence not even a mumble about how the act is unjust.

The older he grew the worse they got to the point where he had to wear jumpers throughout the summer because his skin was raised and red that you could see them through any tight fitted shirt. Their was one scar however, one burn that would forever be raised as if he'd lost the ability to heal in place of where the burn had scorched his skin.

On his fifteenth after coming home late from his best friends house, Charlotte Ortiz, he had thought there would be the occasional glass thrown at his head for being late but it wasn't, it was something far, far worse.

They had taken a hot iron from the fireplace and carved his right shoulder blade with the words, devil. Silas couldn't even hear his own screams of anguish anymore as his throat bled raw when the hot metal was dragged mercilessly against his skin, he remembered the smell of his own flesh being burned against the heat, hearing it crackling under the heat. He remembered seeing Sebastian's face above him, sporting nothing but a blank expression and he remembered Isabelle fighting hard against their mothers immobility spell she had casted to stop her daughter from saving her brother.

Silas didn't leave his room for a week, his sister brought him his breakfast, lunch and dinner - helped him put the shower on the coldest setting to make sure he would never get burned again. It was strange, he admired fire from afar but if he were to walk through the flames he couldn't, he would end up worse than he already was.

His best friend Charlotte had apologised relentlessly when they saw each other at Hogwarts for their sixth year together. He had told her about the hits himself and his sister had received and he'd never seen anyone so livid. Her face went as red as a Weasleys hair and her light blue eyes had turned a dark and mean colour of black. She had ordered the Monroe siblings to come to her house for Easter, Christmas, their birthdays, her birthday, her own mother's birthday; practically any excuse to get them to stay at her house.

The Monroe parents had no objection to getting rid of the burdens for a while and practically ushered them out of the house whenever they had to go to the train station.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙡𝙨 𝘼𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡