You know she wishes it was different And she prays to God most every night Though she’s quite sure he doesn’t listen There’s a tiny hope in her he might She say’s “I pray, but my prayers they fall on deaf ears Am I supposed to take it on myself To get out of this place?” Cassie wept, and drew a second line. She was alive. She was not the same cold, distant creature her father had turned the once beautiful, intelligent Narcissa Black into. She was Cassiopeia Malfoy. She was strong. She was smart. She would overcome her family and she would rise against them. She would fight the coming darkness with all her heart. She would… She would cower. She would cower before his might. Just like they all did. She would stand with her father and mother and her baby brother in fear and servitude of a monster. She would be trapped. They all would. Maybe if she slept. When she slept, she could dream. She could dream of a world without the Dark Lord to tarnish it’s beauty. She placed the glass on the sill and walked to her dresser. Slowly, precisely, she changed into her night clothes, then sat on the edge of her bed. When muggles were faced with troubles, they prayed. As a young child, she had befriended a muggle girl from a strict religious family. The friendship did not last long, but she learned something from that muggle child. She learned of humanity. That girl was no different from her. She wept and she laughed, just like she did. She had a heart and a mind. They were just the same. Cassie had her magic. The muggle girl had hers. But the muggle girl called her magic God. “Worth a shot,” Cassie said. She closed her eyes and placed the palms of her hands together, as she had seen her childhood friend do time and time again. She closed her eyes and pleaded with whatever power there may be to help her escape. She prayed and she wept in frustration. Soon, she slept.
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