𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍

❃ the paintings under my bed

"Where'd you go?" Draco asked from his bed as sunlight began to pour into the room, sitting my glass on his desk.

"Just to get some water, I was thirsty," I said, plopping down next to him.

"I don't like you leaving, especially when I don't know where you are," he pulled me into his chest as I fussed with his morning hair.

"I can take care of myself for the most part, I made sure he was sleeping first."

"It doesn't matter, Flower. What if he did something? I can't-I just, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself," he huffed, wrapping his hands tightly around my waist.

"Thank you for caring, but I'm okay," I smiled softly.

"Do you promise?" he held out his pinky finger.

"I promise," I whispered, linking mine around his, before planting a soft kiss on his lips.

The week passed by quickly, once again managing to avoid my Father despite his efforts to make contact with me.

Astoria insisted on painting Easter eggs, which Narcissa and I helped with. She took paintbrushes and watercolors from her cabinet, and we painted them at the kitchen table.

I remember painting with Narcissa in the sunroom of the Manor as a child. It was the only room on the entire estate that wasn't dark and doomed; the walls were covered in vivid canvases, both Narcissa and my paintings sitting on easels and tables. She had taught me to paint. That room was my escape from reality.

Even so I hadn't stepped inside of it in ages.

My paintings when I was a child were vibrant; calming. Visions of pastel flower fields, princesses and their ethereal dresses, kind homes and tropical beaches.

Ever since Draco had pushed me to start again, they'd been... dark.

Bruises and pill bottles. Oversexualization and self expression. Abandonment and sorrow. Knives and suicide.

I kept them under my dormitory bed in a box. I didn't want anybody to see.

If they found them, they'd know what goes on inside of my mind.

I'd prefer to keep that to myself.

"Green or black?" Draco held up two ties, putting on his clothing for tonight's meeting with The Dark Lord.

"Green," I smiled, adjusting my silver necklace.

"Need some help?" Draco came behind me, zipping my black dress up, pulling my hair out of the way. "I need to ask my Mum something about the meeting, can you sit tight for a minute? She's down the hall, I'll be back in no time," he asked, gently kissing the side of my neck as I leaned on his back.

"Go for it, I'll let you in when you knock."

He quickly shut the door behind him as I plopped back down on his bed with a magazine.

I got through two pages before a heavy fist hit the door.

"Coming," I said, "that was quick-"

"Hello, Maybelle."

He stared down at my chest, his hand meeting my waist as he backed me into the room, closing the door.

"Don't touch me," I whimpered, "get out."

"I've missed you so much, didn't you miss me, babygirl?" he pressed his large hand to my cheek as I tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

"D-DRACO, DRACO HELP ME," I screamed, his hand now covering my mouth.