16|Dreadful Summer

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It's been about 1 and a half months now. Day after day, I wake up, eat, read, maybe talk to someone or visit Draco, go to meetings, and sleep. Days start to blend together, and I lose motivation to wake up and get out of bed. I've gotten used to the black, dim interior of the Malfoy manor. I've gotten used to seeing my annoying parents more and more each day. (They haven't stopped asking me about Draco, if you were wondering.) I've gotten used to being mostly alone. I've gotten used to seeing poor, innocent, people be killed infront of my own eyes. I have gotten a few letters from Millie and Aria, asking me were I've been and if I'm doing okay. I rarely have the strength to write back, and when I do, it's short responses like; "I'm doing great." Or "I've been busy with homework." Which is a complete waste of perfectly fine parchment, as my mother tells me. I've stopped talking, only saying a few sentences each day. I feel so empty, and I want to cry, and scream and shout. But I can't, because I feel numb. No matter how hard I try for tears to form in my eyes, they never come. It's a weird thing, purposely trying to make myself cry. But I haven't felt anything in weeks. I want to feel something, anything. On this particular day, I'm wandering the halls of the Malfoy manor. Examining the trophies and the paintings that I've looked over a hundred times already. I'm wearing a flowy, black dress, with long sleeves and black boots on my feet. 

My curly hair lands on my shoulders, it grew out quite alot through this past summer

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My curly hair lands on my shoulders, it grew out quite alot through this past summer. Making it  harder and harder to style it every day. It has gotten a lot darker, too. It used to be a light brown, but now it's more of a dirty blonde. "Cass!" I head Draco's voice shout. I look over my shoulder to see him running towards me. He wears a more elegant black suit today, which only means one thing; he's visiting. "What are you doing?" He asks, his voice echoing off the empty hall. "Nothing interesting." I respond, looking back at the picture on the wall. It's a family picture, though Draco looks much younger, and happier. He's sitting on Narcissa's lap, with Lucius standing behind them, a hand on his wife's shoulder. "I was seven when they painted this, it took hours because I couldn't sit still." Draco informed me, chuckling at the painting. I hum in reply. I dont have the energy to say anything else to him. He stops looking at the painting and looks at me. I look back at him, starring into his cold, grey eyes. "I want the truth. The raw, plain truth." He starts. He sound angry. Why is he angry? "You've barely spoken to me these past few weeks, are you mad at me?" He asks. "No, I'm absolutely fine." I say defensively. "Oh really? Then why wont you ever look at me anymore? You're ignoring me." "I am not!" My voice rises, snapping my eyes away from the picture. "You're making me feel like were on bad terms!" Draco starts to shout. "We are neither on good terms or bad! We are no longer anything!" I yell. God my head hurts. I start to rub my temples and walk away. Draco stands there, not moving. I don't expect him to walk after me, and to be honest I hope he doesn't. "Cassiopeia, he's near." My mother says, literally popping out of nowhere. She grabs my wrist harshly and leads me to the familiar large room with the large table in the middle. People are already gathering to sit in their seats, including Draco. Not wanting to sit by him, I sit in between my mother and father. Conversations come to an end, and soon we are all waiting in silence. The familiar rush of cold comes into the room, along with the hiss of a snake. "My loyal followers," Voldemort starts. "I have news that Potter will be attending a wedding. Somewhere in the country." Small whispers start. "My Lord, would you like me to catch him?" Bellatrix suggests. Typical Bellatrix. She's absolutely obsessed with helping Voldemort. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's in love. "No, I need a spy, someone I can trust. Then we will attack." He says, his snake eyes landing on me. "Cassiopeia, you were acquaintances with Potter?" He asks me. "Yes, my Lord." I say, bowing my head. Curse Draco for telling him that piece of information. "I am assigning you a task, to figure out how to attend this wedding, and spy on Potter. Figure out what he's up to." This hasent been my first tasks. Even though I don't have the burning dark mark etched into my skin, Voldemort has used me on multiple occasions. They were never anything big though, I had to stay out on the lookout, or retrieve something for him. "Of course, my Lord." I say agian. He starts to talk about the rest of his plan, but I tune him out. My mind's to busy finding out a way to get an invitation to the wedding. Whose wedding is it anyway? If it's someone I know it would be quite easy. Then agian, the only people from school that have talked to me are Millie, Aria, and Draco. I had to succeed at this task. If I didnt, well, I would be dead, plain and simple. The meeting finally ends and Voldemort leaves. Me and my parents leave as well, aperating back home. 

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While my parents stay, I go to Diagon Alley, to ask around who exactly, is having a wedding. It depends on the person, but I've figured I could use the polyjuice potion or turn into my animagi form. I've walked around through the busy streets, the empty alleyways, and even done some shopping. I've shopped for dresses with light colors, this is a wedding of course. I'm walking back towards the flu fireplac, to tired to keep looking and deciding that I'd investigate more tommarrow. Unfortunately, me being the clumsy person I am, I bump into someone. It's an old lady, with wrinkles and freckles covering her face. She has fiery red hair that reminds me of Ron. "Oh! So sorry dear, I was rushing to go wrap my wedding present." I stop dead in my tracks. "Oh that's fine!" I say, putting on my best fake smile. "Say, whose wedding is this?" I ask the busy woman. "It's my sons wedding, Bill. Oh! I'm so proud of him." The lady says, rushing away. Suddenly, everything clicks. The red hair, the freckles. George mentioning he had a brother named Bill. That's it. I'm "attending" Bill Weasley's wedding. 

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