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"Madame? Madame Cassiopeia? Madame?" 

An annoying voice keeps on questioning me. I roll over on my soft silky sheets and put a pillow over my head.

 "Madame?" The squeaky voice continues. I swear to god, when I open my eyes and see who's interrupting my beauty sleep I'm gonna kill them.

 "What!?" I yell finally opening my eyes and seeing large green ones staring back.

 "Polly is very sorry to wake Madame Cassiopeia up." My house elf, Polly says. "Stupid Polly." She says, slamming her head on my nightstand repeatedly, making my books fall. 

"Polly stop, it's fine what do you need?" I ask rubbing the sleepiness from my eyes.

 "Mistress Cassandra has told Polly to come wake you up, she says you mustn't be late for your train to Hogwarts!" Polly explains. Right. I forgot, today is the day I return back to Hogwarts, as a 6th year student. "Madame?" Polly asks, snapping me out of my thoughts. 

"Yes?"  

"Mistress Cassandra says you must start packing."

 "Oh yes, of course thank you Polly, you may leave." I say getting out of bed and stretching my arms over my head. 

"Polly is so very welcome." She says, and with a snap of her fingers, shes gone. I walk over to my private bathroom and splash some water on my face. I brush my teeth, and walk over to the big brown suitcase lying on the ground next to my desk filled with papers. My initials are engraved on my suitcase, C. C. I.  My full name is Cassiopeia Carnation Ira. I know, it's a mouthful. My first name, Cassiopeia, is a constellation on the northern sky, taking shape of the vain queen in greek mythology. My middle name, Carnation are these pretty types of flowers, with soft petals and bendy stems that come in all diffrent kinds of colors. Personally, I think the white versions of the flowers look the prettiest. In fact, I have them decorating my entire room. In a vase standing on my desk, one on my bookshelf, and one on my nightstand. And my last name, Ira, is a name full of history. Dating back thousand of years, to my family's first ever members. For the longest time, my family has been known for their wealth, pure blood, and snobbiness. Most people would die to live in a family like mine, but me? I would rather eat Polly's horrible cooking. I take some of my nightgowns, and fold them into my suitcase. I also pack my school robes, quills, books, shirts and hoodies for when we go to visit Hogsmaede, and some jewelry and hair accessories. After I lock up my suitcase, I grab my leather book bag, which also has my initials on it as if to say "This is my property, back off." I add my sketchbook which is filled with little poems, sketches of flowers, and notes that I have scribbled to myself, some money, a quill, and a book I was supposed to read during the summer for Transfiguration. Hopefully I'll finish it on the ride there. Once I'm done, I look into my closet. I pick out a dark green button up sweater, a matching black skirt, knee-high socks and matching black flats. I run my fingers through my silky, curly hair and put it in a low ponytail, taking two strands out to frame my face. I walk out my room and immediately notice my older brothers closed door. I frown and continue walking. I walk down the stairs with my luggage but instead of going to the front door, I walk to the kitchens. I open the cupboard were my father keeps all his whiskey and grab two bottles. Every year, me and my best friend, Millie make a mini back to school celebration party. I tuck the bottles in one of the pockets of my hoodie in my suitcase and make my way to the front door.

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 There, my mother stands, looking very annoyed. My mother, Cassandra Ira. I can use many words to describe the woman.  Strict, snobby, stuck-up, cruel. Since the day I was born she has made it her task to find me some rich guy to send me off to marry. She hasen't been successful, yet. She's also the monster that killed my brother. My brother Cassian, was four years older than me, but that didn't stop us from becoming the bestest of friends. He was my first friend. Everytime I remember memories from my childhood, He's always in each one if them. In my family, when a child turns 18, they must turn themselves over to the dark Lord. My brother refused, and out of rage my mother killed him. Her only son. I wear a golden necklace shaped like a heart wrapped around my neck. If you open it, you can see a picture of me and him stuffing our faces with candy that we bought from Honeydukes. I smile at the thought. 

"You were supposed to be down here 17 minutes ago!" My mother taps her foot impatiently. God, she can be such a bitch. 

"Sorry I needed to pick out the best outfit to wear." I lie. Not really though, my mother always makes me wear something presentable, even if I'm just going out for a stroll in the gardens. 

"Well hurry up, we still need to do some shopping before I send you off." There's a hint of happiness in her voice. Figures. I walk over to the living room and grab a handful of floo powder. "FESTER!" Mother shrieks. Fester, our other house elf, hobbled into the room. 

"Yes Mistress Cassandra?" He asks his voice sounding wise yet squeaky.

 "Carry Cassiopeia's luggage. She says stepping into the fire. "And try to keep up." Fester takes my suitcase and joins my mother. I walk into the fireplace and yell "DIAGON ALLEY!" as clear as I can. I see a flash of green flames and recognize the cobblestone streets and the many wizards and witches walking about.

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 My mother steps out first, leading the way to some old vintage dress shops were I recognize a familiar pale colored head.

 "Good morning, Narcissa." My mother greets first, me close behind her.

 "Ah, Cassandra glad you could make it." She says in her warm soft voice. "And how are you, Cassiopeia?" She ask. 

"Great, thank you for asking." I reply back with my best fake smile. But I'm not really paying attention. My eyes are are busy looking Draco over. I notice he has gotten much taller but also much paler. He has dark circles under his eyes and his pale skin makes his veins pop.

 "Why dont you and Draco go on and catch up?" My mother suggests. Narcissa agrees,  and me and Draco nod our heads. We start to walk off, not knowing exactly were we're going.

 "How was you're summer?" I ask trying to start a conversation. 

"Fine." He replies awfully quickly. I furrow my eyebrows and continue walking.

 "Did you finish you're summer homework?" I ask, trying agian. I see his shoulders drop, as if hes relieved the subject has changed. For the next 1 hour, we talk about homework, school, and who we think Blaise will snog next. We finally find our mothers and approach them. They're hands are full with shopping bags that I recognize are from the most expensive shops at Diagon alley. 

"Ah, they're you two are! We've been looking everywhere for you." Narcissa scolds.

 "You're train is about to leave soon. We better get going." My mother says turning around, once agian, leading the way. We get to the station, and I take my luggage from Fester. I nod to him and turn to mother. 

"Goodbye." I say making no step closer. If anything, I'm moving backwards, trying to escape her. 

"I exept only Outstandings do you understand? No distractions." She says with the most serious and terrifying look on her face.

 "Yes mother." I say, boarding the train and looking for Millie. I dont bother waiting for Draco, he probably wants to sit with his friends anyway. I finally find Millie's compartment and slam the door open. 

"HEY BESTIE!" I yell, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug.

 "Merlin, you scared the bloody hell out of me." She chuckles. "I missed you too." Once i sit down, we talk about our summers while I brush her long blonde locks and she tells her stories. Once she's done, she lies down on the seats and closes her eyes. Her calm breathing soon fills the compartment as I try to finish my summer reading. When we finally arrive, we quickly put on our slytherin robes and ride on carriages to the castle. We take a seat in the great hall and prepare for the boring ceremony and speech that will soon come. I glance at the hufflepuff table, that is filled with chatter and warm smiles. Then the ravenclaw, were  a big group of students seem to be debating on which author is better; Ingolfr the lambic or Mospsy Fleabert. Lastly, I look over to the Gryffindor table, were most students are preoccupied flinging mashed potatoes at eachother. It's good to be home. 

                 °Lilacdreams 


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