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‘Malfoy, wait!’ she called after but I didn’t turn back. I couldn’t. If I looked at her, I’d want her again and I couldn’t let that happen. I was a Malfoy. As much as I hated it, I had to accept it. I didn’t go back to the Ball. Instead, I went back to the dungeons and started packing. France was nice this time of year, and I surely had a pure-blood beauty waiting for me somewhere.
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