TW: self-harm

Meaning 'lamb' in Latin, Aries is a Zodiac constellation, often associated with the lamb of golden fleece. When the second wife of King Athamas, Ino, got jealous of his first wife, Nephele, she sought to kill all his children by bringing a famine upon the land. Nephele sent Aries just as Athamas was about to kill his son, Phrixius, who sacrificed the lamb to Zeus to ward off the famine.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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Angel did not struggle or acknowledge him.

"Well, go on then, boy! Do you know her? Seems to be a student, this one!" Scabior threw Angel roughly to the front. In his peripheral, his mother watched him keenly.

"Look carefully now." Scabior grabbed Angel's face,  forcing it upwards for him. Their eyes met, and he allowed himself to drown in them for a fraction of a moment.

"Draco-" Narcissa began, but a loud thudding interrupted them. Bellatrix traipsed down the stairs, wild curls sticking out in all directions. "Right! What's all this noise, then!" she demanded. Upon seeing Angel, her lips parted into a devilish smile. "Why, it's the little girl from the Tower!"

"Found her in the forest, we did," announced Scabior, puffing out his chest.

Bellatrix rested her wand under Angel's throat. "What's your name?"

"Angel." Her lips trembled, but her voice was steady and even.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl." Bellatrix pondered dramatically for a while. "Tell me, what were you doing in the forest so close? Are you with Harry Potter?" Angel said nothing, and Bellatrix shuffled impatiently. "Where is he?"

Still, Angel refused to answer, choosing to look away in silence.

"WHERE. IS. HARRY. POTTER!" Bellatrix screamed.

"I don't think she knows anything," Draco said quickly.

"And how would you know that?" Bellatrix challenged, turning to him sharply. "Is she your friend? Have we got the wrong girl then?"

His mother's stare was boring through his temple, and panic welled in his chest as they waited for him to answer. He will kill us all if he finds out. Do you wish us dead? And so, he said the words he would come to regret for the rest of his life.

"No, I don't know her at all."

They were thorns in his throat, but it was too late to take it back now.

"Well, then you won't mind if I take her for a little chat, then!" Bellatrix pinched Angel's cheek like a baby, turning it red and raw when she let go.

Draco watched as Bellatrix hauled her further into the house. He wanted to call after her. Stop! Take me instead.

He started to follow when Narcissa grabbed his arm. "You've done enough, Draco. Go to your room."

"Mother, please, you can't let-"

Her talons dug into his flesh through the thick jacket. "She may be my sister," she said into to his ear. "But remember, her loyalty will always be to the Dark Lord."

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As he returned to his room, a new heaviness had set in his heart. The packed bag seemed to taunt him as it sat on his bed, untouched. He flung it against the wall in a rage, and it thudded dully onto the floor.

What in Merlin's name had he done? He knew she would move heaven and earth for him; she would come when he asked. And now, she has. He should have known better, planned better.

Part of him had been so desperate to see her, to show her he could do something good for once, that he had led her straight to the wolves. Now, she would pay dearly for his selfishness. He dug the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to think of what to do. 

A scream sliced through the stillness of the house. Her scream. Never had he heard a sound quite so terrible in his life.

Another one sounded, the pain and agony of it like fingers forcing his ribcage open. It throbbed in his ears and in his head, lingering long after it had faded.

This was nothing he hadn't seen before. Over the past year, dozens of people had been dragged into their home to be interrogated. Screams of anguish were the anthem of Malfoy Manor.

He had seen them. He knew what they looked like - before, during, and after - often left as nothing but husks of the people they once were. They all eventually begged for death, every single one of them. And they were often obliged.

Again, the screams echoed, interjected by loud sobs of pain. He punched the wall, splitting his knuckles open. "Fuck!" he cried out, trying to flick the stinging away.

He paced the room, raking his fingernails into his Mark. The red streaks were barely visible against the black of the skull. Eventually he sank to the floor and buried his head in his arms as images of Angel's twisted body flashed through his mind.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

A/N:

The next chapter contains a rather... heavy scene. It isn't very graphic in terms of description, but it was pretty traumatic for the character. Please skip it if you are sensitive to such content. Mental health first, always! 💙

TW for next chapter - r*pe/sexual assault