Thick vines scaled the cold stone walls of Malfoy Manor. Shoots coiled and curled around handles and knobs and the green leaves blanketed the windows in their shadow. Elegant white flowers flourished, contrasting the darkness that the vines created beneath their winding hold. With the flick of a wand, the foliage could be tamed, sent shriveling away from a window that needed to open or petals could be encouraged to bloom. The beauty of each winding branch would catch any wandering eye distracting any gaze from the secrets that remained between the walls of the ancestral home.

Since its founding in the 11th century, Malfoy Manor was home to a family of the same name. It had started with Armand Malfoy, a French Wizard who had arrived in Wiltshire with aspirations for greatness. And it was great he found. For centuries the Malfoy name became synonymous with wealth and success but above all else, they treasured their bloodline. Come the 1930s the Malfoy family prided themselves on being one of the final twenty-eight families who were truly pure-blooded witches and wizards. With such status, came respect as did their power. Pure-blood superiority embellished the family name, which became known for their devotion to one of the greatest - yet, darkest - wizards in history.

The joining of Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had been a celebration of joining two respectable pure-blood households. The Malfoy name and that of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Both shared strong anti-muggle sentiments, a fondness for a lavish lifestyle, and a penchant for potions. No one could have argued a more suitable match, and together they continued to bring notoriety to the Malfoy family name.

Mr. Malfoy spent most of his life purely as an aristocratic figure whispering in the ears of the governing officials to sway each vote in the direction of his pleasing. It was only out of necessity that he positioned himself on the Board of Governors for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which held the utmost authority over the school of magic. People would bow their heads when the tall, pale-haired wizard crossed their path, some even trembled when they caught a glimpse of his cold gray eyes.

Mrs. Malfoy was his perfect counterpart. Her dainty figure clad with the finest robes, her blonde hair glistened in the sunlight and her eyes were as blue as summer skies. She would have been considered beautiful if it wasn't for the knot of inferiority at the center of her face that left her lips pursed and eyes narrowed. Her looks easily deceived many, painting her a cold heartless woman, but above all else, she cared deeply for her family and children.

They treasured their dear Draco, a boy of ten. Once a small tot who clutched to her mother's skirts, Mrs. Malfoy assured he was growing to meet the high standards of his father. While he was small, he was eager and often questioned when his time to travel to Hogwarts would come. Then, there was Carina. A girl, equally as small as her son, with the same platinum strands that every Malfoy had dawned. Carina's rested in a mess of curls over her shoulders, and her eyes were uncharacteristically dark - reminding Mrs. Malfoy of her traitor sister all too well.

While the greater wizarding community knew of both Malfoy children, they couldn't help but whisper in the shadows of Diagon Alley, or between workloads at the Ministry. Carina was born a year before Draco, but no one could recall a time when Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy was with child, nor could they ignore that Lucius strut along with his wife and son with pride, but the little girl always trailed behind. The elite status of the Malfoy family, as well as their connections to dark magic, was more than enough convincing for their peers not to look further than necessary. The last thing anyone needed was Mr. Malfoy whispering in the ears of his Ministry connections and earning them a one-way ticket to Azkaban.

When Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy woke up one sunny, July morning, they knew they would have much explaining to do - if they weren't careful - no matter how expected the owl would be. Young Carina had turned eleven in May, and each night since she had been counting down the days until she, much like each young witch and wizard in her bloodline before her, would receive her letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She would greet the wise, old eagle owl that brought the Daily Prophet with eager eyes, sorting through the rest of the post only to be disappointed when she was left to wait one more day. Though one more day turned into weeks, then a month. This would earn a sneer from young Draco, his crystal eyes focusing on his older sister - the jealousy that overtook him almost enough to turn them green. He was only 13 months younger than Carina and was more than convinced that he was old enough to attend Hogwarts too. Why wait another year when he was sure his mother and father could convince the headmaster to let him in alongside his big sister. And while he pouted and stomped, he failed to get his way and settled for tormenting Carina into thinking her first day of Hogwarts would never come. With each day that failed to bring her letter came a cheeky grin followed by a sneering remark that she was the greatest disappointment to a pure-blood wizarding family: a squib. His words were always laced with cruelty, sending tears down rounded cheeks at first, but she knew that his words were untrue. The letter would come, it had to come.

Pushing off the emerald velvet blanket that draped the four-poster bed she slumbered each night, Carina couldn't push on her slippers fast enough. She hummed happily, laughing briefly as one of her slippered toppled over her toes before being abandoned in the doorway, obstructing the polished wood floor. The other followed not long after, kicking up the runner that stretched the length of the hallways. The pale-faced portraits looked up from their slumber - some smiling, others groaning - as they watched the child they had watched grow before their eyes as she ran to meet the owl.

"She's going to break something-"

"- should be any day now-"

Carina didn't stop to acknowledge them, not even the house-elf draped in his soggy rags as he washed the marble steps could stop the determined witch from checking the post.

"I'm sorry Dobby," his words were a quiet whisper as her bare feet took full assault on the marble, leaving footprints in her wake. The house-elf had been in the service of the Malfoy family for generations and was best unseen and unheard. Yet, more often than not, when Carina found herself in need of a friend she would seek out the elf with huge green-sized eyes and a long thin nose that pointed at its end. It should have bothered Carina, that she hadn't been greeted with the squeaky voice of the family elf and instead was met with silence. Grasping tight onto the railing, she continued her descent downwards, into the grand entryway of Malfoy manor. Maybe when the morning was through, she would play among the armor that lined the walls of the handsome manor house.

Rushing through to the dining hall, her father waited at the head of the table, sipping his cup of morning tea and reading the Daily Prophet- No, that couldn't be right. Brows furrowed tight, threatening to connect at the center as she spotted the old eagle owl on its perch to the right of the fireplace. Its wings spread out wide, fluttering at its side to greet the tiny blond that would often sneak it scraps off the dining table. Each day Carina had woke, she had been able to meet the owner as it flew through the parted glass. She couldn't have slept in, could she?

"The owl, it's-"

Her quick steps had fallen into cautious strides as she approached the lengthy table. She was sure it could fit twenty or more witches and wizards thought she had never seen it so full. She did not still until she stood beside her father, his robes cascading over his lap and pooling at his feet. Careful not to step on them, Carina pressed up onto her toes, an arm reaching out for the stack of parchment piled on the table in front of them. Diligent fingers took hold of each one, her eyes scanning over each letter carefully each one reading: Mr. Lucius Malfoy.

Glassy amber eyes peered over the pile of parchment she held pinched between her fingertips in front of her frown. Carina wouldn't let her father see her disappointment nor the fear that twisted deep in her stomach. With each day September 1st grew nearer, and her acceptance letter was nowhere to be found. What would happen if it never came? Would her parents still love her if she was a squib, or would she be sent away and become nothing but a memory of the greatest disappointment of the Malfoy family bloodline?

"Tomorrow, it'll come tomorrow," and while she did her best to speak with the utmost confidence, her voice betrayed her with an uneasy crack.

Lucius didn't waste his time looking up from the Prophet. Even with his breakfast growing cold in front of him, he wasn't going to subject himself to the questions as to why the letter had let to arrive. Those were questions better fit for Narcissa and would have to be answered with greater caution than he was willing to risk so early in the morning.

Putting the pile of parchment back down on the grand table of the dining table, Carina ignored her seat next to him where her breakfast waited for her. The weight in her stomach left her far from hungry. If she took a single bite, the threat of hurling would only grow. Instead, with her head hanging low on her shoulders, she shuffled back through the manor house - collecting her slippers along the way - and back up the grand staircase to her bedroom.

"Mistress Carina," she was greeted by the gentle squeak of the family house-elf, his hand extended high above his head as he held her blanket in the air. A quick snap removed every wrinkle before it was lowered to hug each corner of the mattress. Winkles soon found their way back into the fabric as the house-elf gripped at the edge of the bed, kicked off the ground, and scurried up the side until he could comfortably take a seat. If it were any other one of his masters, Dobby would have apparated into another room to continue his duties, but Carina was different. Carina was his friend. "It will come soon Mistress Carina," the house-elf assured, and watched as the young Malfoy girl rummaged through her wardrobe for something to wear, leaving pieces that were undesirable on the floor in the process. As if that wasn't enough to leave the house-elf wincing, she was soon pulling goulashes onto her feet. The garden? Not again! There was nothing the house-elf hated cleaning more than mud off the marble floors.

Yet, each day without the Hogwarts letter, Carina would spend hours in the garden. She didn't just enjoy the flowers like her mother, nor did she host garden parties for the ghosts and ghouls. Carina liked to trudge to the darkest and muddiest corners of the garden and hide away from the family she felt she was about to be expelled from.

"If they ask where I went, don't tell them," the blonde ordered the house-elf as if her authority would somehow override the demands of her parents when it came time for them to wonder where she had snuck off to. It was a grand manor after all. It had quickly become apparent that it was difficult to keep track of their curious daughter when their son consumed much of their attention. The house-elf bowed his head, frowning to himself as he knew it was a promise he could not keep.

Down the hall, Draco's latest tantrum could be heard. For a boy of ten, Carina had hoped Draco had left tantrums behind him. Yet, she was thankful that her mother would have the distraction. Whatever Draco was demanding, provided Carina with the time to jump down each step of the marble staircase and slip out the large double doors that would greet her with open arms when her time in the garden was done. She was careful not to open the door too wide, the heavy wood was sure to draw some sort of attention when it closed and sent an echo through the corridors. She intended to be deep enough into the hedges not to be found by the time her parents came looking for her. Skipping past the flowerbeds of snake's head fritillary and pale-petaled primrose Carina disappeared between the hedges and into the small maze that decorated that back corner of the manor garden. Narcissa wouldn't bother her there, where the mud would cake to her heeled boots and stain the hem of her elegant silk skirts. Not even her father sought out the ancestral tree that blanketed the ground with its shade.

From a distance, it appeared to be decorated with what looked like vines dancing in the wind, but as you grew closer it became clear that it was snakes that slithered along its branches. This corner of the garden had once scared the girl, having been left unkempt for decades. The dead skin of snakes hung like phantoms from the tree, and the curious flick of her tongue had her question the snakes' intentions. With the help of Dobby on a warm summer morning, they had discarded the outgrown skin and planted flora stolen from other parts of the garden between the winding roots of the Yew tree. It was here Carina could escape from the manor, first reading books pulled from the shelves of the manor library, and when she grew bored of them she began to befriend the snakes. While Draco had Crabbe and Goyle from their father's own affiliation during his time at Hogwarts, Carina had the snakes.

Laying down on her belly, she greeted the snakes with the flick of her own tongue. Above the large grey-scaled adder remained coiled on its favored branch, he blinked his dark red eyes in a silent greeting. It was the small green grass snakes that slithered out from their bed between the long grasses, racing to the girl's fingers. Their bodies rolled over one another before settling in her palms and around her arms. Weeks ago, she would have shrieked, but the glassy gaze of the young snakes left her smiling now.

"It didn't come," a heavy sigh took her body, "again."

Tears built up in her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks as she looked down on the three tangled snakes in her hand. Each looked up at her intently, their tongues flicking out at her. For a moment she could swear she could hear them whisper out to her; It will come.

The wind rustled the leaves above, downing out the echoes of the whispers that kissed her ears. Carina winced, looked around at the hedges that surrounded them. She could never find the source of the sound. There were no ghosts lost in the maze, no other children to follow her out from the manor - Draco would never wander so far - and no neighbors near to call out to her. It had to be the tree, she thought. The ancestral tree had to have some magical properties. Could it be the Malfoys before her trying to provide her some kind of reassurance?

It will come.

Sighing Carina rolled onto her back, her arms stretch far over her head before settling the snakes down on her stomach. They wiggled there a moment, one deciding to settle there, tangled in her fingers. The others slipped away, hiding between blades of grass and flower petals.

"I hope you're right," Carina spoke out and up into the branches. Whatever was out there speaking to her would be listening. "I don't know what will happen if it doesn't. They wouldn't let me stay here. What kind of Malfoy would I be if I wasn't a Witch. No doubt they would erase me from the family tree."

Don't go.

Don't go.

Friends.

A chill quaked its way up her spine, her eyes wide as she watched the wind rattle the leaves. She hadn't heard so many voices before. Propping herself up on her elbows for a moment she looked around once more but saw nothing but the sleepy adder snake and the tails of the grass snakes as they scurried away. Nose wrinkling, she settled herself down on the grass, paying no mind to the dirt as it got on her clothes. She would always be safe in the garden, even if she didn't know where the voices were coming from.

"It'll come," she told herself confidently, her eyes beginning to flutter shut, "then I will go, just for a little while. Then, I'll come back and tell you all about Hogwarts, my friends."

"Mistress Carina," the pop of the house elf's apparition hadn't been enough to wake the girl from the slumber that had consumed her. Bony fingers tugged at her t-shirt sleeve before brushing the tiny grass snake away from the pocket of her shorts. Sure, both Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy was proud Slytherin alumni, but the last thing they would want was a wild snake wreaking havoc in their corridors. It was best to get rid of it now instead of having to chase it down later. "Mistress Carina," the elf chimed again, "your parents, they have been looking for you." Or rather, he had heard them conspiring in the drawing-room, their daughter's name tossed between them. The elf was sure it would be best to retrieve the girl before they began to question where she had wandered off to if they hadn't already.

Standing up, Carina did her best to dust the dirt from her clothes. It was inevitable, she would be tracking mud back into the manor. "Sorry," she muttered under her breath to the house-elf, "I can help clean it up later." Extending her hand, she let the skeletal fingers of the house wrap around her fingers. With a quick snap and a pop, they were behind the suit of armor in the grand foyer, a pile of mud at her feet. Her face contorted as her stomach lurched. Dobby had been bringing her back and forth between the manor and the garden for weeks now, and she still didn't have the stomach for it.

Stepping out of her boots, she abandoned them behind the armor and began to tiptoe through the manor. If she was lucky there would still be lunch on the table-

"-for how much longer must we do this to her, Lucius?" It was the voice of her mother, both raised but hushed by the drawing-room doors.

Carina perked up, crouching down by the ornate bronze handles. Dobby came up to her side, protesting her noisy nature with the gentle tug of her shirt. The blonde shoots her head intently, her finger coming up to press against pouted lips to hush the elf. He wasn't about to get her caught, not when she was sure they were speaking of her.

"She has been waiting for this letter for weeks, and to keep it from her this morning-"

"You know why it had to be this way, Narcissa," Lucius hissed back, "we have invested too much time into this to have it all disrupted by Dumbledore. I'd have her shipped off to Durmstrang before-

Dobby tugged Carina away from the door, her stomach jumping up into her through at the sound of her parents pacing footsteps. Amber eyes went wide as she turned to the elf who was desperate to interrupt her snooping. "Dobby," she whined out, "I can't hear." Then it was too late, she could hear the click of her mother's heels approaching the door.

"The library," tugging on the elf, Carina lead the way inside the adjacent room lined floor to ceiling with books. Hands desperately grasped at the first book that came into view; a simple leather book with ornate bronze corners. Her brows knitted together when she found no title on its cover and no words on its pages. "It's blank!" she panicked, quickly shoving it back into its place before pulling off another, heavier book.

Before she could settle into the plush comfort of the emerald, velvet armchair and peel back the cover, her mother was walking into the library with her hands on her hips.

"Getting into trouble are we?" Narcissa's lips pulled back into a solemn smile, earning a quiet shake of the head from Carina. "No?" Manicured nails took the edge of the book, tipping it back so she could take a glance at the cover, "I don't think you're ready for Advanced Potion-Making just yet."

Carina had been caught, but her mother didn't seem angry. Instead, she looked relieved and Carina couldn't figure out why.

"You heard us fighting didn't you?" Narcissa crouched down in front of Carina, worried eyes taking in her features. Had the young girl heard something she hadn't?

"Father didn't seem happy," Carina pointed out gently, though he never truly seemed pleased - especially since he had taken the position on the Board of Governors.

"No, he wasn't really," Narcissa frowned, a hand reaching back to stroke through the girl's platinum strands, "but," her hand disappeared behind her back for a moment, pulling out an envelope that she held between them, "he just wanted it to be perfect."

Ms. C. Malfoy was all Carina needed to read before her fingers took the envelope at the bottom corners. She could only hope that her mother didn't notice the dirt under her fingernails as she peeled back the wax seal to get at the parchment inside.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Malfoy,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Her lips split into a cheeky grin, eyes raising up to her mother as her fears were all put to rest. Carina would not be expelled to live among the muggles as a squib. She would get to stay with her family, and honor the family name at Hogwarts. Now, her greatest worries could be limited to which she would rather have a cat or an owl, and which house she would ultimately be sorted into come September 1st.