Big Dogs and Small Dreams

It was rare to see Lucius Malfoy smile, but if anyone saw him this very moment, they would swear that it couldn't be him. And yet, the sound of his laughter rang out across the manor as he watched his seven year old son tear around the decadent library after his father's wolfhound. Lucius was in hysterics as his huge, and usually stoic dog led the youngster on a merry chase, in and around shelves, until finally, the huge mutt collapsed, panting, letting Draco clamber over him. It was with much regret that the older Malfoy left the room with a quick smile at his son to attend one of his many company meetings.

Meanwhile, Draco lifted his head from wrestling with the dog to watch his father leave the room. Beneath him, Brujn wriggled and swiped his huge tongue over Draco's still-grinning face. "Bruuuuuuujn!" Draco giggled, before he pulled away from the dog, and got up. The amount of wiry dog hair that covered his tunic was phenomenal and he visibly cringed to think of what his mother would say to his current state. Or rather, what Narcissa wouldn't say. His mother had a way of simply looking at Draco that let him know that he was out of line. Speaking of his mother, she was currently in Austria, wheeling and dealing with some of Lucius's more unspeakable clients, of course, her son was not to know this, and so he was told "I'll be out of the house for a few days, mind your manners, and call on the house elves if you need anything". Standing there, in the middle of the library, with the mid-afternoon sun falling across his face, young Draco knew exactly what he was going to do now.

"Come ON Brujn!"

Together, the pair made their way out of the manor. Draco knew that his father was tucked away in one of his rooms somewhere, no doubt preoccupied, and the house elves were flat-out preparing dinner. Fantastic. Now was the perfect time to escape. The small blond crept unsteadily through the huge garden, his hand stretched up to Brujn's collar, where he was more hanging than holding on. In his left arm he clutched his toy wand, and now he held it out in front of him as unfamiliar topiaries and fountains loomed out at him. Finally, finally they made it to the edge of the grounds, even at the age of seven, Draco could feel the shift as he came out of the wards. Slowly, he turned to look at the huge dog standing panting beside him. "We did it!" They were standing in a small copse of woods that separated the grounds from the road. Draco had never been out here, though he'd seen in from his room. "Never go out there," his mother had said. "You must never leave the manor by yourself, otherwise the muggles will get you." Now, Draco didn't know what muggles were, but he'd heard his parents talk about them in a derisive tone, about their weakness and inability, so, he reasoned, they should be relatively easy to defeat. He gripped his wand tighter. He would conquer the muggles (whatever they were), and then show his mother and father what he was truly capable of. Never mind that his wand could only produce sparks, and that his knowledge of spells was limited to an "accio" that had never before worked on his toy wand.

It was not long after marching down the small country road that the small boy encountered his first sign of civilization. A lone car trundled its way down the street, slowing as it neared Draco. The seven year looked suspiciously at the car, and it sped off down the street. It was nowhere near as polished as the Malfoy's Volvo, which they almost never used. Continuing on, with Brujn trotting along behind him, he made his way along the stinky sweet smelling road.

oOo

Meanwhile, back in the manor, Lucius' meeting was over. He'd just negotiated a rather key deal, and was very keen to celebrate it. Calling for a glass of port, he settled down in an armchair, back in the library. Now late afternoon, it was easy to see the hair left by Brujn all over the library's luxuriant carpet. Speaking of that dog. Lucius gave a huge whistle, and waited, smoothing his platinum hair back over his shoulders. Nothing happened. Normally, Brujn came running at his master's whistle, no matter where he was on the grounds. With a sinking feeling, Lucius stood up, calling house elves from their duties.

"Tinker, Sally, have you seen my son?" he abruptly questioned the first two elves that arrived. They shook their heads, and stepped back a little as their master paced in front of them, his stick tapping demandingly on the floor. Silhouetted against the huge windows, questioned each and every one of the little elves that popped before him. Each time, the answer was a negative. "No, we have not seen young master Malfoy sir." His heart sank a little lower with every apologetic house elf. Narcissa was going to KILL him.

oOo

Draco could hear the screech of other children, a baby wailing. He'd been walking for over 20 minutes now, and the thrill of escape was beginning to wear off. He was tired. They'd passed houses in ever increasing quantities, and dogs barked at Brujn from behind fenced yards. The town centre was looming, and Draco was relieved. He was sure he would be able to find a witch or wizard to take him home soon.

oOo

The small honey-haired girl was perched at the very top of the climbing frame. It was windy up there, and she had to keep swiping her tangled hair from her eyes to be able to see her book. Below her, children were screeching and laughing, banging and shrieking. Her father kept half an eye on her from the park bench as bent over a medical journal. The wind picked up, and she had to hold onto her book to keep it from flying away. Perhaps it was time to come down, to go inside back to her window seat by the fire. It was much more comfortable there, anyway. She was very nearly to her father when a small boy in the most peculiar clothing marched up to her, and shook her hand. What on earth?

"My name is Draco Malfoy." The tiny blonde told her officiously, as if he expected her to know him. His huge grey eyes held only the slightest hint of blue, and he sloppily raised her hand to his lips, as he saw his father do with the wives of pompous wizards that came to dinner.

"And I am Hermione Granger?" she stuttered back in confusion. Why was he kissing her hand? And why did his other hand hold the collar of a huge dog? She stepped back a little as the grey beast moved forward in an attempt to lick her face. Draco giggled.

"Sorry, that's Brujn, he's MEANT to be my Father's hunting dog, but you know…" He trailed off at the look of utter confusion on her face, then sheer revulsion.

"MY father always says that hunting animals is bad. You must only hunt what you intend to eat."

"Oh. Right then, sorry, I just…"

Hermione realised that she might have gotten off to a bad start. "No, sorry, sorry, um". She bit her lip, then swiped the hair out of her face again, before reaching up to pet Brujn's face, albeit tentatively. The huge dog wagged his tail in pleasure, nearly taking out a small toddler that was walking behind them. Hermione laughed at the spectacle, and Draco looked on in awe. The only other girl that he knew who was his age was Pansy, and she NEVER laughed. Ever. Girls looked pretty when they laughed. Draco stored that in his mental notebook.

"Herm…" he trailed off in confusion, trying to fit his tongue around the strange name.

"Hermione? That's how you say it. Her-my-own-nee."

oOo

Mr Granger glanced up at his daughter, and then did a double take. Was she really talking to another person her age? Despite clearly being the brightest in first form, she had a characteristic that just turned people away from her. Mr Granger, simply couldn't pinpoint what it was, but his daughter made him feel just that little bit afraid sometimes. That was why he'd brought her here during his lunch break, to interact with other kids, but it was not at all unpredictable when she settled down with a book instead. He squinted, eyeing the little boy. He'd never seen such white blonde hair in his life, surely it couldn't be natural? The shaggy dog that towered over both of the youngsters licked his daughter again, and he could hear her high peals of laughter from here. "Hermione!" he shouted. "Introduce your friend to me!"

Draco swung around in confusion, "That man is shouting at you!".

"That's my dad! Come on, let's go meet him, he's very nice, he's a dentist, you know? I hope you get your teeth checked regularly, because my dad will be able to tell, he's the best dentist around."

"Dentist?"

"You know! Tooth doctor!" Hermione bubbled happily as they dodged a crying toddler to get to the bench. Draco didn't seem so sure now. He touched his wand that was concealed in the back pocket of his robes, and held tighter to Brujn's collar, who plodded stoically along, unfazed by the incessant noise. Hermione's father seemed… well, different. He wasn't wearing any robes, and he held onto his book like it was his dearest possession in the world. Still, it paid to be polite, at least that was what his father always said.

"Greetings…" He paused for a moment, he'd forgotten Hermione's last name. "Greetings, my name is Draco Malfoy." The tall man peered down at him.

"Hello Mr Malfoy. My name is Mr Granger. What are you doing here today?"

Since meeting Hermione, Draco had completely forgotten about his mission, to show his father that he was not afraid of the muggles. At the thought of his father, he gulped nervously. He'd not meant to be out this long, and with both him and Brujn missing, it was highly likely that someone in the manor had noticed his absence. There would be no dessert for weeks after this escapade, he suspected.

He looked back up at Hermione's father, who was smiling kindly down at him, waiting for an answer. They were still beside the park, and in the corner of his eye, he could see Hermione fidgeting and dancing, obviously eager to be out of the area. Perhaps it might be better to lie to this man until he had more information on the mysterious muggles.

"I am a little lost, sir, but don't worry, I'm sure I'll be able to find my way home."

"Lost are you? Do you know your parent's address, or number? I'm sure we can sort something out."

"Number? What's that?"

Hermione giggled, then shook her head at Draco. "Your phone number, silly. You know, when people call you to talk?" She mimed holding a telephone to her ear, and started to what was obviously her parent's number.

Draco cut her off. "No. I don't have a phone. And why you'd need one beats me, you could just floo call instead." He was feeling slightly put out that someone had something he didn't, and it was making him rather uncomfortable.

Mr Granger watched with increasing amusement. "Perhaps we should head back to our house? We can grab a warm drink and figure out a way to get young Draco home." Draco was happy with the distraction, and together the young pair followed Hermione's father on the short walk back to their house. As they walked, Draco and Hermione lightly discussed matters including the ancestry of Brujn ("Surely he's part wolf!"), the best novels they'd read (Draco had never heard of most of Hermione's favourites, and she was shocked!) and the origins of Draco's robes. However, it was not long before Draco suspected something was wrong with Hermione and her family.

"You aren't a squib, are you?" Somehow, he managed to load as much disgust as he could into that word.

"No? What's a squib?" Draco stopped walking, and stood stock still, gobsmacked. Perhaps these people didn't even know magic at all! How terribly horrible, no, it couldn't be possible. He ignored that question, and began to question the brunette.

"Butterbeer? Wands? Unicorns? Quidditch?" The questions came with increasing frequency, and Draco was more and more shocked as Hermione shook her head to each question. "House elves? Puffskeins? Spells? Apparition? Magic? A… anything?"

Hermione was so confused. Why was the strange blonde boy questioning her like she was a criminal? She huffed, instead. She wasn't used to not knowing things, she'd better get home and look all these strange words up. They were nearly at her front door, before she remembered something. Magic. It was the only way she'd had so far to explain what had been happing to her, and now some stranger… no. Not some stranger. Draco. Draco turned up out of the blue to tell her that his world was one of magic. It was time for detective Hermione to emerge, and without warning she grabbed Draco and dragged him around the side of the house and into a large bush. Inside was a small clearing, in which sat a manky plastic chair and a collection of toys and books. Draco's eyes refocussed in the low light, before settling on Hermione.

"What on earth? You dare touch me? Draco Alsafi Malfoy? The one and only heir of…"

"Ok. Just shut up. I need you to answer some questions for me." Almost immediately the seven year old platinum haired boy puffed up. He had information worth giving. He settled down on the pine-needle coated floor of the earthy clearing.

"Go ahead."

"Why can I do this?" Without a word she turned and began to climb up the tree that formed the roof of the den. He sat there in slight awe as she skilfully navigated the dense branches, but jumped up when she reached the topmost branch and let go, standing up almost 5 metres from the ground. From here, in the shadow, he could only see her silhouette. Then, without warning, her silhouette jumped.

"Hermione! Stop!" He desperately whipped out his wand and tried to slow her fall, before he realised that it was useless. It was a toy, and he knew no real spells. He threw himself at her landing place, to try to break her fall.

Hermione, in fact, was having the time of her life watching Draco freak out. As soon as she'd jumped, her fall had been slowed by some innate force of hers, and now she peacefully spirally down to where Draco lay, his platinum hair dirty and full of twigs, and nose scrunched up adorably, waiting for impact. She stopped right on top of the boy, spread-eagled and hovering just a few centimetres above him. He had really tiny freckles on his cheeks. "Draco" she whispered in mirth, "I'm ok."

What she wasn't expecting, however, was for the boy in question to sit up suddenly, and most embarrassingly, and rather painfully crash their faces together. Their foreheads knocked and their noses twisted, but most importantly, their lips managed to collide perfectly into each other. Draco closed his eyes, his whole face was on fire, but here was something so much better, something that he could also boast about to Blaise, he'd had his first kiss, at the age of seven, and with a beautiful girl nonetheless!

But it was shortlived, his head suddenly slammed back into the ground, and he opened his eyes to see a fuming Hermione getting up, her magic had apparently ceased. He lay there on his back, grinning at her, but the smile slid off his face as she stood menacingly over him. "If you ever tell anyone about that, EVER, I will take your guts out and use them as decorations."

Draco gulped.

oOo

Meanwhile, the search back at the manor was becoming more frantic. Lucius had every being within the household searching for his dog, and, more importantly, his only son. He was frantic, yet stately in his movements, directing with increasing worry and anger. They'd established that he was nowhere within the grounds or the manor. It was only then that Lucius remembered that slight twinge in the road-side wards a few hours earlier, he'd originally put it down to a deer or other animal crossing the border. He made his way immeadiately to the spot, and stepped out onto the road, spotting right away the enormous pawprints of Brujn.

"Merlin's beard," he swore in angry frustration. He was coming for his son, and when they found him he was in for the lesson of his life. Watch out, little Draco…

oOo

The two children had recovered from the funny, yet horrifically embarrassing (Hermione), and the painfully scary, but secretly gratifying (Draco) ordeal. They sat opposite each other on the pine needle floor, and Draco proceeded to tell his newest friend about his world. A world of magic. The miraculous fall, in which Hermione didn't really fall, but floated, affirmed right away for Draco that Hermione was a witch, but what he could not comprehend was that she had absolutely no idea whatsoever! He began to explain to her about accidental magic, and his experiences with it. Of course, upon seeing that face light up in delight at his stories, he made them more and more elaborate, each one designed to make the little girl laugh. His normally abhorrent arrogance gave way to a gentle confidence as he assumed the role of story teller. Despite the fact that most of his stories about the magical world were gross over-exaggerations, his fevered gestures and the way he leaned forward to deliver information engrossed his listener.

"Dragons? I don't believe it, where would they live where we can't see them?!"

"They live in no special place, but Father's taken me to see captive dragons before, for my birthday. They are huge, as tall as…" he looked around for a comparison "two of those trees, and they breathe fire too! My name in Latin, it means dragon."

"Are all wizarding names as funny as yours?"

"Funny! What do you mean, funny? I think that your name is weirder, Her-mi-o-ne."

And so they continued on in this manner, while Brujn stood guard outside the little tree fort.

oOo

Lucius Malfoy swept down the street, continuously muttering Point Me under his breath. It had taken no longer than five minutes to arrive in the small town, and he stalked through the muggles streets in disgust. Why, look at the squalor they lived in! Houses pushed together and so tiny that he doubted even a single person could live comfortably. However, his wand took him to one of these very houses he held in such low esteem, and so it was with quick strides that he moved down the side of the Granger's house and into the backyard. Only, of course, to be nearly bowled over by Brujn. It was with such lightheartedness that the dog greeted his master that both children were left unaware of the newest arrival, and Draco's voice was raised well above the sounds of his father making his way steadily towards them. Through the tree, he caught a flash of that brilliant hair that he knew well, and, opposite, a mop of unruly brown. A muggle child! However, at the sound of Draco's voice raised in excitement, speaking of the wizarding world, he recoiled. His own son, conversing with, at the home of, sharing the wizarding world's secrets with A MUGGLE CHILD?! There would be hell to pay for this.

oOo

Draco noticed the very moment that Hermione's face changed from pleasure/rapture/amusement to shock/fear/doubt. He whipped around to see what she was staring at, and was promptly met with the livid face of his own father standing over him, robes whipping and hair flaring, despite the distinct lack of wind within the hideout.

"Father, I…"

With a glare he was silenced.

"Please don't hurt Hermione."

Behind him, the small girl shrank back against a shrub at the sight of this man, who looked so very much like Draco, glaring at her in disgust, and was that a hint of fear?

"Obliviate." A silver jet of light streamed from the man's wand, hitting the terrified girl square in the chest.

"Father, no! No…"

"A muggle Draco. A muggle. You disgust me." And with that, he hauled his son up by the collar, ignoring his protests of her magical capabilities. The last glimpse Draco had of Hermione was her body sprawled across the den, her hair in a fan on the dirty ground before he was apparated home, back to Malfoy Manor to await his fate.

oOo

And so when Draco saw Hermione that first time on the Hogwarts train, he all but jumped, his composure held together only by years of forced hatred and a belief so well beaten in to him that it was what he lived for. And how can one go back upon the basis of one's own character, that intense, pure hatred for muggleborns that his father seeded and grew? So Draco watched from afar as their paths drifted further and further apart, watched as she laughed with her friends in a way that he'd heard before. He watched as she conquered challenge after challenge, as she cried and as she fought against them… against him. He watched as she grew into a beautiful woman, proud and fearless, yet soft and kind. He watched as lifted up everyone before her in a way that made him realise that his heart might still be beating. And when she screamed her best friend's name as he lay dead in Hagrid's arms, tears tracing tracks down her bloody, dirty face, he watched, and he wept, for a girl that he once knew, who laughed at the idea of dragons and was entranced by a big dog called Brujn. He wept, because she was the light, and he was the darkness, and he would never be able to crawl back to the time when blood didn't matter and hatred didn't poison them both. Draco Malfoy wept for what was lost, and what no spell, no potion could bring back. Draco Malfoy wept.

oOo

It had been over two years since the battle of Hogwarts, and Hermione Granger returned to her flat after work to find a single strand of memory sitting in a vial on her kitchen bench. A folded note lay beside it.

Please forgive me. It wrote, and was signed in simple script,