A helpless drabble. Give it some advice please.
Blood and Roses
I stare out the window, so happy to see sunlight. So happy to be free. I may be a wanted woman, but at the moment I am free. I twiddle with my wand, laughing as Narcissa glares at me. She always said I wasn't lady like. I told her the Dark Lord has no use for women who sit at home with their hands in their laps, worrying about their children.
She took me in, of course. I am her sister, her blood. We are so very different, but we are blood.
Narcissa was playing with roses again, cutting herselves on their thorns as she tried to put them in a thousand Galleon vase. Lucius is insane to fund her escapades. She tries to make the house look beautiful when no one really gives a damn.
Blood dripped on the table and I grudgingly picked up a napkin and pressed it to her hand. "Sister, dearest, don't play with roses. You always end up getting heart."
She looked straight at me with her pale blue eyes. "Sister, dearest," she repeated, "don't play with darkness. Next time you won't find your way home."