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Like most of the chapters in this fanfic, this has not been proof-read


As I stand on the cliff, I think, ‘what am I doing here?’ My hands were tied and so were my feet. A big man came from behind me. 

 

“Jump.” He said harshly. ‘No, this couldn't be happening’; that man was Lestrange. The man Mum and dad always told me to stay away from. I felt my eyes water. If I die, I’ll never be able to see my parents. ‘I’m a pure-blood though’ I thought to myself.

 

“Y-you must b-be mistaken. I-I’m Alison Malfoy. Daughter of Hermione Malfoy and Draco Malfoy. If you kill me, father will punish you. Mother will poison you.” my voice shook as I said that. My father was second in command. And my mother is very smart.


“Yes, if you die, Malfoy will grieve on your death. He’ll fail his tasks! Then I’ll be second in command” he laughed. His laugh sounded like the ones in Muggle movies, so cold and creepy. His laugh sounded worse than Voldemort’s, the one Mum always talked about. I took a deep breath and jumped. The air was cold, but I felt calm and graceful. But then, I landed with a thud. When I opened my eyes, I felt that I died. My whole body was in pain. I must’ve made a lot of noise because an old man came.

 

“Hello, young one.” He said. “My name is Lucius, what’s your name?” 

 

“Alison Malfoy.” I said. My voice sounded raspy. 

 

“Aren’t you a lucky one, Alison. You survived a ten feet fall. Here, drink this.” He handed me a cup of water. Although he was a stranger, I drank it. 

 

“Thank you.” I finally said. I sounded a lot better. 

 

“You’re welcome.” He paused. “Did you say, Malfoy?” I nodded. This man seemed familiar. A little like a dad.

 

“I-I I’m your Grandfather!” He yelled in joy. My grandfather? 

 

“I don’t want to be rude, but who are you?” I asked. He turned to me and sighed.

 

“Draco is my s-son.” His voice shook on the word ‘son.’

 

“Then how come father never speaks of you?” I asked. I once asked my father if I had a grandfather, and he said no, I didn’t.

 

“I… I have done some horrible… things.” He whispered as if he didn’t want to speak of it. 

 

“Didn’t everyone?” I asked. I’ve done some horrible things too. I’ve spied on my father when I was eight years old, before I found out who I was.

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