Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, never have, never will.

Back when I was little, my favorite place to be was the old garden behind my house. I practically lived there. It was a magical place with a small tire swing and beautiful trees and flowers everywhere. Nobody could have ever called the place ugly, but there was more to this place than the scenery. There was a boy.

His name was Draco and I thought it was the funniest name I had ever heard. Then he asked me what my name meant. He said that his name at least had a cool meaning. I told him I didn't know. He said I must be a total idiot not to know and it probably meant something stupid. After a while of him saying this, I decided to ask my mom.

"Mom, Draco keeps on teasing me about my name!" I'd complain, "He says I'm stupid cause I don't know what it means, too!"

She smiled at me and said she didn't really know, but that there was a name book next to the computer that I could use to look it up.

I ran to the computer and grabbed it. I just knew that my name had a cooler meaning than Draco's. I mean, what was so special about having a name that meant "dragon"? I flipped through the pages ecstatically until I came to my name.

"Hermione;" the book read, "Of the earth."

Now I didn't know much about names, but I knew "daughter of the Earth" didn't even compare to "dragon". Draco would laugh at her when he heard. I couldn't tell him. For days all I did was hide my head under the covers. As soon as I went to the garden, Draco would tease me about my name.

My parents, at this time, got worried about my mental health; before they thought Draco was just an imaginary friend. They took me to a couple child psychologists and the psychologists all tried to tell me that Draco wasn't real. I knew he was real, though. Him not being real made no sense. I had played with him, talked with him, and fought with him. He wasn't like any other boy I had ever met. I had never been creative enough to come up with someone like him.

My poor parents were going crazy with worry. Not a single psychologist could get me to budge on my belief in him.

"Hermione," My father said to me one night during dinner, "Where did you meet this boy; Draco?"

"Oh, in the garden." I answered simply. I was way too hungry to give him a full answer. We were having my favorite food, mashed potatoes, and all I wanted to do was eat them.

"What garden?" My dad asked abruptly.

"The one in the forest behind my swing set." I told him, "Draco calls it the Royal Gardens, but I think he's lost it."

Mom and Dad exchanged looks. I was the only one who they thought had lost it.

"Hermione, can you show us the garden." My mom asked.

"But I haven't finished dinner yet." I said, "And if I don't finish it, JC will jump up on our table and eat it all up and then I won't get desert."

"How about after dinner?"

By the time we got outside it was dark. I almost got lost a couple times and when I got to the gardens nothing was the same. The plants were dead and branches had fallen off the trees. It looked like a graveyard.

"You've been coming here?" My mother asked worriedly.

I ignored her and walked to the old tire swing. It was nasty and faded now.

"Hermione, how often did you come here?"

I turned around slowly. Where was Draco? He wouldn't allow this to happen to his gardens.

"Hermione, are you okay?"

I didn't answer. I just stared at my shoes. The psychologists were right; Draco was never real.

"Hermione?"

I was staring at my shoes intently when I noticed an old piece of parchment not too far away. It was from Draco. It said he couldn't come here anymore. That we had to stop being friends. He said something about it not being safe here. He asked me to watch over the garden and make sure it never died. Then I started crying. I couldn't watch the garden; it was already dead.

My parents looked at the note. They believed me after that. Mum even said she'd help me replant the garden. In a few months, the place looked almost as good as before, but it wasn't the same without Draco.

As I got older I spent less and less time at the garden. When I turned eleven I got a letter from a magic school called Hogwarts. After that, I didn't have much time for the garden anymore and, even if Draco did come back, I'd probably never see him again. Boy, was I wrong.