brothers best friend

relapse.

warning- ed, sh, mention of abuse/rape

the next day.

6:30 am. thats what time the twins were awoken. forced into nice clothes, aurora in a black and green flowy mini dress and a furry coat with some tights and heels, draco in fitted dress pants and a button up shirt with a trench coat.

"i dont want to do it mama" aurora pleaded at the table for breakfast.

"i know."

"so dont make me!"

"i dont have a choice"

"youre not even marked, we could flee the country and he wont have any trace of us"

narcissa stayed quiet

"youre not marked are you mère" (mother (french)) draco asked sounding worried

"i didnt have a choice."

"fucking brilliant."

"language at the table, aurora."

"quand les aurors viendront vérifier la maison, ils le découvriront, vous serez également envoyé à azkaban et draco et moi serons laissés ici pour nous débrouiller seuls et servir le seigneur des ténèbres!" she shouted. (when the aurors come and check the house, they will find out, you will be sent away to azkaban as well and me and draco will be left here to fend for ourselves and serve the dark lord! (french))

"excusez-vous aurora." narcissa spoke coldly (excuse yourself aurora (french))

"such bullshit. i fucking hate you." aurora spat as she threw the napkin from her lap onto her plate and left the room.

"shes just angry, she doesnt mean it." draco comforts his mother

"yes. she does"

"why would she, youve never hurt us or anyone for that matter"

"but i let him hurt her. hurt you both. i was scared it would happen to me so i let it happen to my only children." she took a deep breath "finish your breakfast" she spoke with a small smile

draco did as he was told.

aurora found herself in the bathroom.

she was doing so well.

even as she flushed the toilet to dispose the evidence of her relapse, she felt guilty.

she stood infront of the large mirror above the sink and placed her hands onto her wrists, her waist and hips, her thighs and her breasts. he couldnt touch her in those places he so often did. not anymore. she finally had control.

she sobbed.

hes not here. he cant hurt you.

the others will.

her mind flashed with the horrible memories of the things her own father did to her. what her own father took from her. her own father stood by and watched. her own father.

the house was silent.

her shoulders were heavy.

her eyes were red.

her skin was bleeding.

at some point while she was holding her own wrist, she had dug her nails into the bruised and scarred skin.

"shit." she mumbled under her breath once she realised what she had done.

running her arm under the tap as she held a cloth to the new wound.

her eyes were glossy and her cheeks were soaked.

the cuts on her wrists werent deep. they stopped bleeding as quickly as they had started but they weren't unnoticeable.

she brushed her teeth to remove the taste of her own sick. she dried her face and straightened her dress out before leaving the bathroom.

A/N:

poor baby