A/N: Okay, I have a thank-you to make: Thanks to KitKatManiac for pointing out that Sabrina (in my story) is flawed. I've kind of decided how to fix it now, I still need to smooth out a few rough edges and stuff, but thanks for telling me about that! If you hadn't told me, then I would've just gone on like always, willy-nilly, until somebody flamed me in, oh, chapter twenty-five to tell me I was doing it all wrong?

So, one last time, thank you. Seriously. If it weren't for you, my story would be...well, unrealistic, I guess, and hard to believe, which is a horrible thing to do to a story.

"I told you they wouldn't listen."

Henry didn't say anything, but Sabrina knew what he was thinking: Stupid principal. I make one tiny, reasonable request for them to remove all fairy tales from my daughters' - my daughters' - classes, and he refuses! What an unreasonable man.

Sabrina sighed. "Can I go back to class now, dad, or do you want to keep me here until gym?"

"It's not fair!" Daphne cried. She swung her legs back and forth. "Why do I have to stay in the office with my dad during art class? I want to make finger puppets!"

"He thinks that we're going to get corrupted by overexposure to fairy tales, which your teacher might tell you while you make finger puppets."

Daphne turned to Sabrina. "What-"

"Corrupted means to be made into a bad person."

"Oh."

Sabrina and Daphne both turned to their father, already anticipating his protest.

"I don't think you're going to be corrupted," he snapped. "I just think that fairy tales are a bad influence on children!"

Daphne scrunched up her nose, confused. "Isn't that like cow-ruptured?"

"Corrupted," Sabrina corrected.

"It's not," Henry snapped. "They're two entirely different things."

Sabrina and Daphne shared a look: They're not.

"Anyways," he continued, either not noticing their mutual disagreement or ignoring it, "it's about time for you girls to go to class. I'll pick you up in the afternoon, just like usual. All right?"

Daphne beamed. "Okay, Daddy!"

She threw her arms around his waist and squeezed him tightly, then turned and ran down the hall to her classroom. He shifted from foot to foot, waiting for Sabrina to leave. "So..."

"Yeah. See you later, Dad." She waved at him and walked down the hall. She heard him walking in the opposite direction behind her - presumably toward the exit. She continued walking, but much more slowly than before. Second period was going to be over in five minutes, and then they'd have recess. There was no point in hurrying to listen to the last five minutes of history. History was boring. Pointless. Useless. It was one of her least favorite subjects. It would've been better if "history" included fairy tales, but it didn't.

Brrriiiinnnngggg!

She jumped, startled. Recess already? "That was quick," she muttered. She stepped to the side just in time to avoid the stampede of students running through the halls. She flattened herself against the wall until the steady stream of students slowed to a trickle. Before long, it had stopped altogether. Sabrina peered down the hall in both directions to make sure no one was there, then began to half-walk, half-dash down the hall to the washroom. If she was lucky, she'd be able to get there before-

"Sabrina Grimm!"

-a teacher found her. Oh, drat it all.

Sabrina heaved a sigh and turned around. Mrs Blake, her English teacher, was speed-walking down the hall, armed with tightly clenched fists. "Miss Sabrina Grimm," she said through clenched teeth. "Why are you not outside? In fact, I have been informed that you were not in class in the morning, either. I hope you have a good explanation."

Sabrina sighed and rifled through her pockets. After a minute or two, she pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to the teacher. Mrs Blake took it, gave her a suspicious look, and quickly skimmed it. Sabrina knew what it said: It was a note of pardon, excusing her from the first two periods. Even Mrs Blake couldn't say anything against it.

Mrs Blake sighed. "Fine," she grumbled, thrusting the note back at Sabrina. "Just make sure this doesn't happen again."

Sabrina smirked and fake-saluted her. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again, Mrs B."

"And don't call me Mrs. B!"

She shot Sabrina one final glare before huffing and turning away. "Go out for recess. If you're not in your third period class today, I'll want to know why."

Sabrina rolled her eyes behind the teacher's retreating back. Who did Mrs B think she was, anyway? A little kid? She stuffed the note back into the pocket of her jeans and walked to the doors leading to the playground. Playground - ha! We're already eleven! Why do they expect us to play in a playground?

She paused with a hand on the doorknob.

She knew exactly why she was acting so grumpy, and it wasn't only because of the idiotic Puck, or her stupid, mule-headed father. No. It was because she actually had to go to recess. She'd managed to avoid it for almost a full week now, but thanks to her father's insistence on talking to the principal, she couldn't do it today. After all, how could she stay inside to "finish work" if she'd been pardoned from doing that day's work?

She took a deep breath and pulled the door open.

It was relatively normal outside. Kids were jumping around, sitting on top of the monkey bars - all the usual things that children did to have fun. Sabrina could see Daphne's telltale pigtails poking out from behind the corner of the school, where she was probably playing some sort of childish role-play game with her friends.

"Hey, look, it's the teacher's pet, out of her cage."

Drat it all.

Sabrina slowly turned around to face the three girls. It didn't matter who they were, really. After all, they could've been anyone in her grade, and it wouldn't have made a difference. Even so, she couldn't help but recognize the one in the middle, Dasha, as the one who'd spoken, and her two friends, Annie and Jane, at her sides.

Dasha grinned and narrowed her eyes. "So, little miss perfect. What brings you out today?"

A/N: Merp. I forgot what Henry's job is. Veronica's a lawyer, I think, and I'm just going to call him a househusband/random job that doesn't have regular hours like a salesperson. Because that's a plain, ordinary, non-Ever After type job. Also, because I live in Canada, the school system might seem a bit weird. I have no idea how schools in New York work, so at their school, there are six periods, a half-period recess between periods 2 and 3, and a period-long lunch between periods 4 and 5.