Sabrina Fawley despises her life. Her path was drawn in blood, pointing only to a dark mark embedded on her forearm and a ring on her finger, an heirloom of the Malfoys. She was bred and born to be a pawn in a much larger game of chess. But what if...
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1991
SABRINA FAWLEY LOVES TO COUNT. It is an odd pastime, especially for a little child. It started with just one, two, three, but as time passed and the girl grew, the numbers lengthened and the things to count increased.
Her and Draco's shared toys, cookies eaten, the shops on Diagon Alley, the days her mother, Blythe Fawley, was nowhere to be seen.
The last is rather grim, don't you think? It helps that Sabrina learned to grow numb to that sort of pain a long time ago. Blythe is barely her mother, anyway—though she was outraged when baby Sabrina, only three at the time, called Narcissa "Mama," an act of emotion the girl still does not understand. If the woman wanted to be called Mama, she should have raised her, right?
However, the longest thing Sabrina Fawley has ever counted was the days until she was eleven. August 7, 1991 was a blessed day in the books of the little girl, who waited patiently at an opened window since midnight. Four thousand and seventeen days, all leading up to this.
Sabrina Fawley
The first bedroom in the hall
Malfoy Manor
Sabrina doesn't break the seal for a long while, instead staring at the letter in blurry visioned joy. She had to wait sixty-three days since Draco got his letter, on his eleventh birthday. She uses Narcissa's letter opener carefully, making sure to keep the wax fully intact. She is going to treasure that envelope with the dark green calligraphy.
Dear Miss Fawley,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Twenty-one words and Sabrina's life is changed forever.
∞
Sabrina doesn't cry when she bids Blythe farewell. She gets a rather short hug (three seconds) along with an order to behave and put respect behind the family name. Narcissa took longer, with ten seconds to hug and another six to uselessly adjust Sabrina's quite straight robes and inspect her perfectly done braids.
"Be very careful, children," Narcissa warns before bidding them farewell, "Hogwarts is more than meets the eye."
Sabrina and Draco walk into the Hogwarts Express, hand in hand. At this age, they are vaguely aware of their future—wedding bells, matching rings on matching fingers, as many children as needed to gain an heir—but that is no matter to them. The time to come is trivial when there is a much bigger worry ahead of them: where to sit in the train.
Draco leads, looking for their childhood friends, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle; though, they were more his friends than hers. In fact, if it were up to the little girl, she would rather sit with anyone else. It is no fun speaking to boys who just agree, agree, agree with her best friend. Their fingers slip from each other's grip as Sabrina slows down. She plans to drag her feet until she meets her inevitable boredom.
