Before you begin reading, I'm going to warn you... The story starts off completely from one person's POV, after a while it switches back and forth, and finally it's from someone else's POV. If that kind of thing bothers you and distracts you from enjoying the story then stop now. If you believe in the omniscience of the reader then you might not even really notice. ;)
It began, as most interesting stories do, with a chance encounter. Before that, Emily was just a sweet little girl of no consequence. Born to an impoverished life that became even more so when her mother died, Emily took great joy at the small things in life, and it did not take much for her to break into a bright smile.
Her father, Walter, was the gardener of a grand estate. In a neighborhood of wizards and witches, the estate was a testament of the great power wielded by its owners. The house itself was dark and grim, but the gardens and grounds surrounding it flourished due to Walter's hard work. Magic would have made his job much easier, but he was born without that ability. Never able to tap into the magic as everyone else around him could, he worked hard and was content with the muggle-like existence he lived.
Emily's father did not keep the knowledge of his deficiency from his daughter. She grew up knowing about magic, but she saw it from her father's perspective. Magic was useful, but there was a certain joy to be had getting into a job and getting your hands dirty. Emily greatly admired her father and respected the hard work he did. With that admiration began a deep prejudice against those who could practice magic because they treated him so poorly.
Emily was treated poorly as well, by the other children in the magical neighborhood. Despite the fact that she was such a happy child, the other children avoided her. This became especially noticeable when she started school. She always sat alone at lunchtime and played alone at recess. If there was an activity where others were forced to include her, Emily was the last one picked. At first Emily thought it was her patched clothes and worn shoes that made everyone think she wasn't worth their time. As she grew older she learned she was truly looked down on because of what her father was.
One day Emily came home from playing with a bloody nose and ripped clothes. Her father sat down with a sigh and cleaned the blood from her face. "You started this fight?" he asked in disbelief.
"Tommy started it." Emily answered with a frown. "I only hit him because he wouldn't stop."
"He wouldn't stop what?"
Emily looked down at her shoes. She didn't want to repeat the ugly things they had called her father. "He wouldn't stop saying things…"
"Saying things about you?" Walter watched as she shook her head. "About me?" he asked softly, then gathered Emily into his arms as she began to sob. "Oh sweetheart." He held her tightly until she calmed down. "Growing up I heard the kinds of things you heard today. For a long time it made me mad too. But my dad told me something that helped and I'm going to tell you." He pulled away from her to look her in the eye. "Names do not change things. You can call a dog a bird, but he will not fly. Call a bird a dog and it will still sing a sweet song in the morning." He gave her an understanding look. "Call me a Squib, but I will still be a man who loves his daughter very much."
Emily's eyes went wide when he said the dreaded word. She hugged her father again and thought about what he'd said. Finally she said, "I promise not to get in any more fights."
Though Emily kept her promise, her anger didn't go away. The whispers of the other children and the nasty things they said about those who had no magic only strengthened her resolve to have nothing to do with them. While still a very pleasant child who happily played by herself, she subtly distanced herself from anyone and anything magical.
Sometimes Emily accompanied her father to the gardens to help him. One afternoon when she was seven, while looking at a string of rosebushes, she heard the faint sound of someone sobbing. Making her way through the garden, Emily found a boy her age beneath the undergrowth. "Are you hurt?" she asked him softly.
"No," the boy replied harshly, wiping his tears off with the back of his hand and looking at her sulkily. "Who're you, and what are you doing in my father's gardens?"
"My name is Emily," she said as she sat down near him, ignoring his rudeness. "My dad tends the plants here."
"Oh, you mean the Squib." He looked away dismissively.
"Don't call him names!" Emily shouted, standing with her fist clenched. "My dad is a wonderful man and he doesn't need magic! Look around this garden and tell me that magic can do better!" Her eyes flashed with anger as she defended her beloved father.
The boy scowled back at her and nearly told her to get lost. But he was still feeling very sad, having been reprimanded for talking back to his father. He decided quickly that he would rather not be alone and thought of a way to placate her. After a moment he muttered under his breath and a blue rose appeared in his hand. He held it out to her and grinned as her eyes lit up.
"It is very pretty." Emily conceded, her manners keeping her from discounting the flower for its unnatural color. She reached out and took the rose, but immediately dropped it. "Ow! Couldn't you have made it without thorns?"
The boy laughed. "It has to have thorns silly! Couldn't call it a rose if it didn't, could you?" Then he looked at her with one eyebrow raised and proudly said, "They call me Draco. What's your name?"
"Emily," she answered around the injured finger she'd crammed into her mouth.
Draco picked the blue rose up and handed it to Emily again. "You should be more careful with things that can hurt you."
"I try to stay away from things that can hurt me." Emily reluctantly took the rose back, holding it with just two fingertips.
"Then you should go home." Draco turned his attention from her and started tugging at a fallen branch. "There's too many things that could hurt you here, roses, bees, even me."
Emily shook her head. "You're not going to hurt me."
"Maybe, maybe not;" Draco shrugged his shoulders. "but I could."
Not sure how to reply to that, Emily sat thinking about what he'd said. Deciding that Draco hadn't been threatening her, just stating a fact, she chose to ignore it. "I'm not ready to go home," she finally said.
"Me neither."
Emily looked at the flower she still held. "Do you like flowers?"
"No." Draco curled his lip in disgust. "Flowers are for girls! I like dragons!" Excitedly, he whirled around with his arms spread. "Flying around and spewing fire!"
Emily laughed, enjoying his antics. "Maybe one day you'll have one for a pet."
"Shows how much you know! Dragons are too big and dangerous to have as pets! Mum would never let me have one." Draco stopped and with a conniving look added, "but Dad might."
"What's she like, your mum?" Emily asked.
"She's nice." He looked at her strangely. "Why?"
"I don't remember mine. But sometimes I imagine what it would be like to still have her." She explained, looking a little melancholy. "My dad is wonderful and does all kinds of things for me, but I bet it's different to have a mom too."
"Oh, well, sure its nice. She takes care of me when I'm sick, and gets me gifts, and yells at the house elf to make sure I'm happy." Draco pulled a stick off a tree, striping it's leaves off as he spoke. "My mum taught me how to ride a broom, but she won't let me do it by myself yet."
"Of course not!" Emily said, concerned. "You could fall off and break something!"
"I won't fall off! I'm going to be a great Quidditch player." Draco straddled the stick pretending it was a broom.
Emily giggled and jumped to her feet. "Oh! Can I have your autograph?"
Draco cocked his head, trying to decide if she was mocking him. Finally deciding that she was just playing along with him, he took off running and shouted over his shoulder, "You'll have to catch me first!"
From that moment on, their friendship grew. When it was time to part, they made plans to meet again here in this now special hidden part of the garden.
Emily very much enjoyed hearing him talk of his mother, for she often wondered what it would be like to have one. Other tales he told of his life gave her an even greater appreciation for her father and their quiet home. When she told her father of Draco, for she always shared everything with her father, he cautioned her to guard her heart. He would rather shield her from the dark things that some said the Malfoys were involved in.
Emily's sense of humor and depth of caring were just what Draco needed to fill an unrecognized void in his own life. From a very young age, he had understood that his parents love was conditional. As long as he behaved the way they wanted him to, and played by their rules, his father would be proud of him and his mother would hug him. Were he to cross that line however, do something that made the family look bad; there would be scolding and banishment from their presence. He soon learned that anyone or anything that stood between him and his parents' approval must be removed, forcefully if necessary. Because Draco was uncertain how his parents would view his friendship with Emily, he kept it a secret. This friendship was a pleasant diversion and he did not want to be told that it had to end.
Years passed, their friendship remained. They met regularly in secret and shared gifts for birthdays and holidays. When Draco turned 11, Emily gave him a stone carved into a sleeping dragon. Her delight in giving it to him was greatly diminished by the discussion they had that day.
"I'm eleven now! You know what that means!" He was breathless with excitement when he sat down beside Emily in their special place.
"Something splendid obviously." Emily smiled at his enthusiasm. She could not imagine what would make him so very happy.
Draco looked at her with a huge smile she rarely saw. "Hogwarts, of course. I can hardly wait to go!"
"That's wonderful Draco!" Emily had to force her own grin as she felt her stomach twist into knots. "You're sure to enjoy it there."
"Learning potions and spells and flying and quidditch!" He lay back in the grass. "Mind you I've done some flying already. Not much to it really." A small shadow crossed his face. "I just hope I get into Slytherin. That's the house father was in you know." Draco knew that anything less than the house his father had been in would be unacceptable. To distract himself from that line of thought, he asked. "What house do you hope to get into?"
Emily stared at her hands and answered softly. "I won't be in any of them. I'm not going to Hogwarts."
"Why ever not Em?" Draco sat up to look directly at her.
She answered with a heavy sigh. "You know how I feel about magic. I don't want it for myself."
"Yes I know." He did know; it was something that they had discussed many times, and though he could not agree with how she felt, he understood it. "I just never thought about…"
"You, going without me. I know." Wanting to veer away from the painful future and enjoy the moment, Emily shook her head and smiled at him. "But that's not for months, and today is your birthday. I hope you like what I got you!" She handed him his present.
Draco unwrapped the gift and smiled back. It was a secret between them, how much he liked dragons. "Thank you! I really like it!" He especially liked that it was small enough to slip into a pocket and imagined he would do so while away at school so that he would not miss her so much.