Cleaver


I spent my childhood being told how lucky I was.



How fortunate to be born into such wealth.

How auspicious I was to inherit my mother's grace, my father's mastery, the opulence that comes with the Malfoy name.



How blessed to have eyes so cold they could never betray my feelings.



Even now that I'm holding his lifeless body and staring into the sterile green eyes, my expression is fixed; Unconcerned, unapproachable.

And as I stare at the blood congealing on his forehead, I feel hallowed and protected by a face that's made of porcelain.



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