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Oh, look at how she listens She says nothing of what she thinks She just goes stumbling through her memories Staring out onto Grey Street… Cassie sat silently in the sterile living room at the Malfoy manor. She sat, half listening, as her father and mother talked of things that meant nothing and spoke words that had no heart. Father reminiscing about his days at Hogwarts. Mother was nodding politely, not really listening either. Once, Cassie knew, mother had been a fierce, strong-willed woman. At Hogwarts she had been a Slytherin, of course, but that was no longer evident. She had once been strong and opinionated. She had always spoke what was on her mind. But now she was tired and broken. Cassie’s heart wept for her. And she wept for herself, for she was like her mother in many ways. She was forced into a state if silent acceptance in her father’s home. She knew she was doomed to her mothers fate, no matter how strong she was now. She would one day become a cold, heartless shell of her former self, just as Narcissa Malfoy had. Why? She wasn’t sure. Not really. She had theories, ideas, jumbled thoughts and musings. All the reasons she could think of came back to a single, abiding force in the Malfoy home. Lucius. Lucius Malfoy. Patriarch of the Malfoy family. Proud, proud father of Draco. Draco the good child. Draco the son. he was Mothers baby and Fathers heir in darkness.

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