Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Authors note: Review, please! I love constructive criticism :)

Summary: Hermione was riding horses before she could walk. When her parents died when she was just a few months old, she moved to live with her uncle on his ranch. Imagine her surprise when one summer, Draco Malfoy arrives for lessons.

Gypsy Hollow

Chapter 1 - Whole New World

There's a fire. Orange flames flickering, licking the ceiling as they cackle like witches. Smoke hangs in the air, suffocating, choking. There are desperate, sputtering coughs and, quiet behind the cracking of the blaze, a baby's cry. Helpless, confused, alone, it calls for it's mother, who lays unconscious on the bed next door.

The father is downstairs, on the phone to the emergency services as he tries to make his way through the house to his child, asphyxiated as he inhales the fumes. He sighs in relief as he is finally told that they are sending help, before he gives in to the inevitable darkness.

A few short minutes later, sirens echo down the street as the fire engine pulls to an abrupt stop outside the blazing house, accompanied by a dusty pick up truck. A young man jumps out of the vehicle and rushes into the building, ignoring the protests of the firemen. He calls for his sister and her husband as he storms through the rooms bypassed by friends who are soon back down the stairs, his brother-in-law in their arms, covered in soot.

He sprints up the staircase, halting at the sound of the baby's screams - his niece. He doesn't consider anything else before he follows the sound, throwing open the door and suddenly freezing in his tracks.

The small room is filled with smoke, except in one corner - surrounding the moses basket, a bubble of clean air protects the frightened child. The man's eyes widen in shock before he shakes it off. He can breathe clean air as he leans through the bubble, but doesn't pause before he takes the blanket, throwing it loosely over the baby's face to help stop the smoke as he picks her up. The bubble seems to move with her, however, but he doesn't risk taking the cloth off until he is safely outside.

He takes the piece of material away before handing the baby to a fireman. He runs to the ambulance - the faces of the paramedics look panicked, but mournful. He knows it's bad news.

That's when he sees his sister. Blanketed in soot, surrounded by staff solemnly shaking their heads. He screams, shouts her name, shakes her body. He pleads with her to wake up, for him, for her husband, for her child. The paramedics have to drag him away, where he is told that both adults had died a short while before they had all arrived.

He refuses to believe it, yelling at them - surely they can do something? But no, no they can't, and they have to calm him down all over again. It's only the cries of a little girl that bring him back to reality, and, detached from the others, he walks over to her, taking her into his arms.

He smiles weakly down at her as she immediately relaxes at his touch, smiling up at him. He coos at her beautiful little face, pats her little head of brown fluff. His niece, the only thing he has left of his sister.

"I promise; I'll look after you, little girl." He proclaims to her. "You'll be safe with me, Hermione. I swear." She laughs lightly, ignorant of the horror surrounding her. Luke can't help but smile.


Seven months later, a very little girl is laughing in the arms of her uncle. Luke is holding her out to a horse, who is reaching tentatively towards the tiny outstretched hand. Around them, soft nickers and whinnies sound from the stalls of the ranch.

Luke chuckles at the the toddler's antics before pulling her back into his chest and stepping onto the mounting block to carefully climb onto the mare - Rowan. Hermione giggles again as he places her securely in front of him, holding her tightly and taking the reins.

He kicks Rowan into a gentle walk, and Hermione claps her chubby hands gleefully at the rocking motion. After a few circles around the small paddock, Luke stops and dismounts, the happy toddler laughing brightly as he leads the mare to the stable.

Placing the little girl in a high chair stationed next to the stall, he walks the mare in and takes the tack off, placing it on the half door. Hermione watches in interest, seeming to take everything in.

Luke smiles - he has one intelligent niece, and since coming to stay with him at the stables, she has brightened his life. It is like having his little sister to take care of again - and he is relishing in it.


At two years old, Hermione is comfortably riding on the very same, docile Rowan she had taken her first "steps" on. The slightly over sized black helmet on her head flops around as she sways with the long strides. Her uncle Luke walks at her side to reassure her, ready to catch her should she fall.

Hermione is perfectly confident on the mare, giggling lightly. Luke dares to take a few steps away - and groans in regret. The sneaky toddler immediately taps the horse's shoulder; the sign Luke had been teaching her as he lead her around.

Hermione takes off in a trot, laughing easily as she watches Luke take off after them. He is surprised at her balance, but shakes it off as he tries to slow Rowan down. The girl just smiles sweetly at him, before tapping the shoulder again.

"Fasser." She demands, and the horse happily obliges, breaking into a smooth canter. The laughs of a child echo around the arena as Luke desperately speeds up. He watches her start to slip, and shouts despairingly as she begins to fall.

"No!" He cries, and reaches out as if to catch her. He flinches and clenches his eyes shut as he waits for the thump of a body on the ground, but only hears the gentle thudding of hooves. He looks up, expecting to see that she has caught herself in the saddle. Instead, he is greeted by the sight of a floating two year old.

Simply suspended in mid-air, she looks at him with wide-eyes. Luke finally shakes himself out of his stupor and chuckles breathlessly, thanking the Powers That Be for whatever gift had been bestowed upon his niece, to give her the abilities she had shown him countless times over the years.

Walking over to take him into his arms, the toddler laughs again, forgetting quickly about the incident. He squeezes her tightly, to reassure himself she hasn't been fatally injured, before placing her back onto her feet, watching as she immediately moves towards the now still mare. She hugs a foreleg loosely, the mare leaning down to gently nuzzle the brown fuzz of hair.

Luke couldn't deny - the kid sure had a gift with horses.


Hermione is nine years old and already a talented rider. Luke rushes into her room to gently shake her awake.

"Uncle?" She asks sleepily. He nods, the excitement evident on his face. He takes her hand and almost pulls her out of the bed and down the stairs. "What is it?" She yawns.

"It's happening!" He tells her, and sees her eyes immediately light up. Instantly it is her dragging him towards the stall, and he laughs at the eagerness that matches his own. She races to Rowan's door and looks on in silence. The mare is stretched on her side, grunting and groaning in complaint as she pushes the foal out.

"What should we do? Do we need to help?" Hermione asks curiously. Luke shakes his head, dropping his hand reassuringly onto her shoulder.

"She's doing fine for now." The little girl smiles up at her uncle, before wrapping her arms around his waist. Luke sighs in content as he strokes her bushy hair. The girl has helped him on the ranch since she could walk, and he has grown to love her like a daughter.

A long hour later, Rowan's labour is finally over. The pair laugh as the little colt falls as he tries to stand on wobbly legs. Finally reaching his mother, he drinks heartily. Hermione smiles at the beautiful foal - pure trakehner, dapple grey; distinct features include a small white star beneath the forelock and four white socks. He is perfect.

"What's he called?" Hermione asks her uncle.

"I thought you could decide - he is yours, after all." Luke winks at his niece, before he is almost thrown to the ground with the force of her hug. He chuckles at her repeated thank yous before squeezing her tightly. When she finally releases him, Hermione looks back towards the foal. She laughs as he stamps his back hoof repeatedly, trying to steady himself.

"Thumper." She decides with a grin.


Hermione is training two year old Thumper when the letter arrives. Teaching him to hold a bit and carry a saddle - the first steps towards learning to work under a rider. She has decided to wait until he is three before she tries riding him, allowing him to mature.

The two are practically inseparable - when she isn't working, Luke often finds her wandering the paddock, Thumper following obediently at her heels. He watches them play with a proud smile on his face, knowing that's his niece. His flesh and blood.

"Hermione!" Her head shoots up as her name is called, and after patting Thumper's neck, she vaults over the fence, running to the house. Her uncle hands her a letter, which she eagerly opens - it isn't often she is written to.

As her eyes scan the letter, her eyes widen, before she snickers in amusement and hands the letter to her uncle. Eventually, she sighs with understanding as everything clicks into place. He chuckles at what he reads before smiling up at her, shaking his head.

"Well, that explains a lot." She giggles, taking the letter back.

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 Miss Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.