Blood I've Spilt

Tea

Hang down your head, Tom Dooley

Hang down your head and cry

Hang down your head, Tom Dooley

Poor boy, you're bound to die

I met her on the mountain

There I took her life

Met her on the mountain

Stabbed her with my knife

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This chapter contains Homophobia and domestic abuse, please read with caution.

December 1st, 1995

"Hey, It'll be okay. We will send each other letters; I promise," Draco whispered against my ear whilst he kept me in a comforting embrace. We'd been like this for about a minute. Draco and I had gotten closer with our relationship over the past month. However, we still hadn't put a label on it and I was unsure of what we were. It was still sort of a secret. I don't know why, though; it just felt like it should be for now.

"I know," I whispered back, finally breaking away from the hug. I glanced around Draco to check on Ace; he seemed to be clinging to Blaise for a while, too. Keith, was by himself, reading his book. I hadn't seen him look up once. It might be normal, if he wasn't anxious. We all were nervous about this arrangement, and it hadn't really hit until now.

Standing at the entrance hall with our bags wasn't a pleasant feeling. I tried to distract myself by focusing on Draco but the big doors and wide walls made me feel so small. My parents were to arrive any moment.

A loud crack echoed throughout the hall, smoke emerging from the small burst of light that had appeared from thin air. The two Slytherin boys, my brothers, and I all snapped our attention to the direction of the apparition that had taken place. There stood both of my parents. My sisters must not have attended this retrieval and Bentley was most likely preparing our rooms. My mother had a quaint smile but it immediately transformed into a deep frown. I watched her nudge my father in the side, causing him to look in the same direction as her. I followed their action and spotted Blaise and Ace, frozen. They had separated to a degree but Blaise's hand was still on the Gryffindor's waist, the other on his forearm. I grimaced at this, taking a healthy step away from Malfoy. There was no particular reason, it just felt safer.

My very tall father slowly stepped over to Ace. He clutched my brother's shoulder. It was a strong grip; his fingers changing to a white colour. Ace's back stiffened before my father ripped him from the Slytherin's grasp aggressively. Ace let out a quiet yelp-type noise. I knew it caused my brother pain; anyone could tell that it did.

"You disgusting child," my father spat, dragging Ace backward with him to his original spot. His big hand never left the poor boy's shoulder.

"My children, let us venture back home," My mother suddenly spoke, clasping her much smaller hands together. "Thank you boys for escorting my children to the entrance hall." She gave a gentle smile at Draco but it quickly changed to a fake one the moment her eyes met Blaise's. The two boys just nodded reluctantly.

"We will be apparating so prepare for the short journey. If you vomit, clean it with your tongue," My mother directed. She was being serious, but she knew none of us were to puke.

I picked up my trunk that wasn't actually that heavy. I had sent the rest of my belongings a while ago with Bentley who had stopped by to retrieve them.

My father finally let go so Ace could pick up his bag. Once he'd stepped back to him, he replaced his hand on his shoulder once more and with a crack the two were gone. Keith tightly clutched the handle of his own bag and linked arms with our mother. Another snap echoed.

One of my parents would be back in seconds to take me home so I took the chance to cup Draco's face with my free hand. He looked at me confused.

"You need to find a way to get us out," I warned quickly before stepping away at the loud noise that we had heard many times before made its presence once again. My father held out his hand to me; I took it gently.

My ears popped and my body felt like it was being sucked into the ground. The scenery around me swirled, getting darker by the second.

Moments later, we were in the entrance hall at my very own home. The walls were black wood, lined with metal designs. The door was as tall as the ceiling; it led to the gravel driveway that was enormously long. It was brisk and cold in the Smedley Manor and it always had been. I can confidently say it is no home.

Bentley quickly came from the kitchen and began to lift our bags and return them to our rooms. It made me sick being back here. Usually, we were only at this place for a week or two months. Now, we were here for the rest of the school year and then off to some French school.

"Go to your rooms. Wash up and unpack. Dinner in the dining room in two hours," my mother instructed strictly.

***
I flopped onto my bed with a sigh. I was annoyed to be here already. It was no fun having to watch everything you did carefully. I missed Chalice and Camilla, but most of all Draco. I wished he was here to embrace me in a nice hug. It always made me feel better. He always knew what to say when I was down or scared. Draco had a way with words; different than anyone I had ever met.

Knowing I had to be down to dinner in less than two hours made me nauseous. Supper with my family was rough; without Liam there to speak for all of us was even worse. He was the one to speak when my parents said something; they were always pleased with his words. Liam was my mother's favourite. My father hates us all either way so he could never choose a favourite. He just found Liam tolerable.

SLAM.

I sat up almost immediately. My train of thought stopped abruptly whilst my stomach flipped. Ah shit.

Instantly after the loud noise, a small cry followed. My eyes were wide and my throat was tight. I had gone as quiet as possible to listen. There was a lot of yelling that only came from one voice: My father's. I was trying not to cry because it was always hard not to when this happened. It was hard to depict what exactly was going on but I knew to a degree. And I could only imagine.

I heard a few vulgar words being yelled. My father's voice bellowed across the upper level of the house; it was thick and loud. Slowly, I trudged to my door and carefully opened it. The shouting heightened, the words being said clearer.

It was coming from Ace's room. It was always Ace. However, I knew for a fact that my brother probably didn't do anything wrong. In my father's eyes, the boy could never do anything right.

"You repulsive piece of shit!" My father snapped. I grimaced, my nose stinging. I wanted to run in there and beat the shit out of my father. Even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to.

"I'm sorry," I heard Ace cry. He was obviously sobbing, his voice strained. I didn't want to imagine what was happening behind that closed door. I knew why this was happening; and I should've seen it coming. The thing Ace had with Blaise was no longer a secret from them. Meaning, my twin was getting the belt, the boot, or the hand.

"I have been too nice about this for too long," he nearly screamed. I shivered whilst making my way down the stairs. I was headed to make some tea for Ace and I. It was a routine my brother and I had every time one of us received a beating.

The fight became muffled once I arrived at the kitchen. I nodded at Bentley, who still appeared to be making our supper.

"Making tea?" he asked, quaintly. He didn't look at me or do any action besides speak to acknowledge my presence.

"Mhm," I hummed solemnly in response. I was a natural at making tea at this point so after I had filled the teapot, heard the whistle, and swiftly poured it into two mugs, only 10 minutes had passed. The yelling was over and my father had descended the stairs already. I placed a teabag in both mugs before turning to leave.

I never talked much to Bentley despite the fact that I loved him like a parent more than my own. But, he was a quiet man and there was nothing to talk about. What he saw is what I saw. What he hears is what I hear.

After climbing the staircase, mugs in hand, I tapped gently on Ace's door with my elbow.

"Come in," Ace's voice murmured through the door. My heart shattered for him. Just by the sound of his voice that sounded more like a croak, I could tell this was a bad one.

I transferred one of the mugs to the same hand, using my fingers to balance both of them with my right. I pushed the door open to see Ace in the corner, on the floor. He had his arms wrapped around his shins with his head tucked between his knees.

"I brought tea," I pointed out quietly.

Ace didn't move, so I slowly walked over to him, set the mug in front of his feet and slid to the floor near him.

"Was it bad?" I asked hesitantly. Ace didn't say anything, instead he raised his head for me to finally see his face. It took everything in me not to gasp. Instead, I nodded. Ace had a bruise on his cheek that was the size of my father's big hand. I took a small sip of my tea and then set it beside me.

"I'm sorry, Ace."

"For what?" he queried flatly.

"Letting this happen," I answered, solemnly. "I didn't even try to prevent this and-"

"That isn't your job," Ace interrupted. We both fell quiet after this with nothing else to say. Our little tea sessions after our father's wrath were always quiet anyway. My brother finally picked up his mug and took a small swig.

I wanted to go home because this bloody place was not it.

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Thanks for reading <3

-Ty

(Song at beginning: 'Tom Dooley' by The Kingston Trio)