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Oh there’s a loneliness inside her And she’d do anything to fill it in And though it’s red blood bleeding from her now It felt like cold, blue ice in her heart When all the colors mix together… to gray And it breaks her heart… Alone, in her room, she sat upon the bed with it’s blood red sheets. She sat and stared at the ceiling, tears streaming silently down her face. Her heart wept in self-pity and fear. “You’re a Malfoy,” she said aloud to herself. Malfoy’s did not fear the dark arts. They reveled in it. She was destined for great things in Voldemort’s new world. Her father was one of his most trusted servants. She should not have feared his coming power. It should have made her happy. Yet it tortured her. She was dead inside. “My blood is ice,” she whispered. “My hear is stone. Just like mother.” She stood from her bed and went to the window. It was shattered. Mother and Father didn’t know she had broken it when she was tossing a ball against the wall a few years back and her aim went off. They never came in her room. Both valued privacy. The Malfoy children were not allowed in their parents room, and the parents did not enter their children’s. Ever. There were shards of glass in the windowsill, held from falling to the ground below by the screen. One of them was caked with blood. She picked it up and tossed it in the garbage. It was dulled by the crimson stain. She lifted a new piece and drew a long line across the top of her forearm. Bright red liquid oozed from the cut as the tears poured down her face. Not ice at all, but blood. Cassie’s heart soared.

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