This is what happens when Jason Issacs is in Harry Potter and Peter Pan.
I own none of these characters. They are the sole property of JK Rowling and JM Barrie. I just borrowed them on a whim and this is what happened. Please bear with my insanity.
She was nine, almost ten when he first came.
She was never much of a child, however, she did believe in certain things; mermaids, pirates, magic, and lost boys.
She believed that Neverland existed and that if she only thought happy thoughts, she could fly and find it.
It was the summer before her tenth year that she overheard her parents speaking of boarding schools to enhance her already superior knowledge.
She cried that night, the thought of leaving her room, leaving her home, leaving her childhood behind, however little it may have been, terrified her.
She fell asleep that night, tears in her eyes and her window wide open.
He came to her that night, completely by accident. And she went away with him, to Neverland, and became the mother to several boys for the summer. Became his mother...if only for a while. She told stories, watched the mermaids, and saw pirates, felt the magic.
It was during those few months that she realized she was growing up. She loved him, loved a boy who would never grow up. Because of that she asked to be returned at the end of the summer.
Saddened, he nevertheless complied with her request.
She returned to her home, the window still open and returned to her parents who, believed she had been kidnapped, were hysterical in their relief at her return. She looked back at the window, watching his shadow retreat to his home, knowing she would never see him again for soon she would have to grow up.
On her eleventh birthday, no longer a child, a letter arrived at her home by owl stating that she had been admitted to Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. As her parents tried to make sense of it and had a meeting with the Deputy Headmistress who confirmed that yes this was a real school and yes, their daughter was a real witch, she reveled quietly that magic really did exist. That things from her childhood really did exist.
She left for Hogwarts and soon found out that even childhood dream had dark sides. She became friends with the unwitting hero of the magical world and had adventures completely new to her. And in this new magical world she grew up.
But she never forgot him.
Hermione Granger sat in the library, writing her essay for Herbology. It was already four feet long, but she wasn't even halfway finished. She mentally calculated it would need to be at least another three feet before it would even begin to be completed.
The door to the library opened and even thought she heard the familiar voices of the banes of her existence, she didn't bother to look up. She had much more important things to do.
Oh surprise, Granger in the library." the voice of Draco Malfoy wafted toward her direction. She ignored him, instead concentrating harder on her essay. It did the trick; she missed most of the biting insults Malfoy and his cronies hurled at her. It was only a particular phrase that brought her from her self-induced studying coma.
"You just have to think happy thoughts. But then Granger probably doesn't have happy thoughts anymore."
Her head snapped up so fast she almost lost her parchment.
"What did you say?"
Malfoy turned back to her to speak, but she was up from her seat and in front of him so fast he didn't have time to even blink.
"Er..."
She grabbed his cloak with one hand, her wand out and aimed at his face with the other. His group disappeared quickly; they'd all seen the power of Hermione Granger when she was truly angry.
"You don't speak of happy thoughts, Malfoy. You don't even deserve to think of such a phrase."
He frowned. "Who the hell do you think..." he started. She pushed him hard, his head connecting with the back of the hard wood shelving behind him.
"You don't deserve to know my happy thoughts Malfoy. You don't deserve to know anything of happy thoughts and pixies and mermaids, and..."
Her furious whisper broke off in a choked sob. She glared at him, her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
He frowned, staring at her.
"You...you were there, weren't you? But how, you aren't pureblood."
She pushed him again, hard. He stumbled back hitting his head again. She stood there, anger and loss radiating from her. Her eyes were mere slits.
"Your kind doesn't deserve him." She spat, then grabbed her books and parchment, and left the library.
Draco rubbed the back of his head, watching the Muggle born witch storm from the library.
She knew. She'd been there, he knew it. He had to find out when.
He found her later that day by the lake. She was sitting in the shade, reading a book.
She looked up as he approached, snapping the book shut and standing up.
"Wait!" He called out. She stopped, glaring at him.
"Why, so you can insult me again, I don't think so."
He watched her walk away, his mind desperately thinking of something he could say to keep her here.
"You...you were one of his mother's, weren't you?"
She stopped dead, her body frozen. Glancing around, he strode forward, hooking his arm in her and pulling her gently towards a more secluded area of the lake.
She went, watching him in confusion and awe.
He conjured up a blanket and sat her down, settling himself beside her. She snapped out of her trance.
"What...what are you talking about?"
He looked down at her arms. She still held the book. Frowning, he gently pulled the hardback book from her hands and looked at the title. Then he turned the book around.
"The Muggle world knows about him?"
She shook her head slowly. "No, it is a fairy tale written by a man who listened to his neighbor's children tell stories at night."
He cocked his head slightly. "You know this is not a fairy tale, do you not?"
She watched him for a moment, and then slowly nodded her head. "I know this is not a fairy tale."
He nodded, flipping through the pages. "Who were the children then?"
"Wendy, Michael, and John Darling."
His head shot up. "I heard stories of the Wendy mom, I even saw pictures drawn of her. But I never knew she was a Muggle."
She froze again, her eyes threatening to tear again. "How did you see the shrine to the first Mother? You can't even know of this?"
He watched her a moment, then did the unexpected. He smiled. "You were in Neverland. You don't believe it is a place of magic. Almost every young boy once in their life has a chance to be a Lost Boy, if only for a summer. Some choose to stay there. It is an uncharted place, none can find without the proper guidance. He smiled again.
"When were you Mother there? If you don't mind me asking?"
"The summer before my tenth birthday."
He frowned. "You and I are the same age, therefore it would make it around 1990..." His head shot up again, his silver eyes wide. "You were our mother?"
She frowned. "You were a Lost Boy?"
His head bent slightly. "As I said, all boys at once time or another have a chance to be a Lost Boy. It was the summer of the ending of my ninth year. I overheard my father speaking of plans he had for me regarding my future. I was scared, so that night, I stood in front of my open window and spoke aloud the spell to call Peter Pan to me. He appeared and took me to Neverland. I remember I had the best time that summer." He smiled, his eyes taking a far away look. "I always wanted to play pirates and find Indians. Peter left for a bit, then returned announcing he had found us a mother for spring-cleaning. I remember the other boys cheered because it had been a while since they had had a mother there to tell them stories. He brought in this girl almost the same age as he. She wore a white nightgown with pink roses on the neckline. She stayed with us all summer, telling stories and cleaning the fort. She played Indians with us and watched the pirates, and made us take our medicine." He frowned, still lost in thought. "Towards summers end, I could see she was growing up. She asked Peter to take her home, and he granted her request. A while after that, I requested the same thing. I was returned home and my father was waiting for me. He knew where I had gone and he knew I would return. Because even though I loved it there, my mind had already begun to grow up, and I knew there was no way I could stay in Neverland. I had already seen far too much in my world for my mind to stay a child forever."
He snickered. "I do remember though, I gave our Mother quite a wearing out. She was forever threatening me with medicine. Peter decided she would be allowed to name me. It took her all of five minutes to come up with a name for me."
"Imp." She said. He looked up at her. Her eyes were wide again, her face streaked with tears.
"Imp." He confirmed.
She choked back a small sob. "For all your trouble, you were my favorite. When I returned home, I cried for days because I had to leave you and Peter."
He watched her intently. "You loved him, didn't you?"
She nodded. "I believe that's why they could never keep a mother. Mother is supposed to love Father, and that is always what happens. And I believe there will always only be a place in his heart for the Wendy mother. He will love her only as a young boy on the verge of manhood can. There is no room for any others."
She looked up at him. Brown eyes met silver and for a moment, she could see the young blond haired boy who was always in trouble, yet she favored, and he could se the dark haired mother in the white nightgown that he adored.
Both blinked, and the moment passed. The world was back. She took her book and stood up. He followed after her. They both stood there, not sure what to do.
"I suppose you're going to tell everyone, now?" She stated.
He watched her a moment, then shook his head. "No. In all these years after, you're the only one I've found that admits to being in Neverland. I have never found another Lost Boy, and I never would have thought that I would ever find my mother."
She smiled. "To tell the truth, I never believed I'd ever see any of my Lost Boys either."
"So, we have a secret?" He asked.
"Are you sure? I mean a Gryffendor and a Slytherin, sharing secrets?
He smirked. "Very funny."
She gave him a small smile. Then it was gone.
"Um, D..Draco?"
He turned, his brows furrow in confusion. "Yes?"
She dug in her pocket, pulling out something. "I saved some things from my trip there. One was given to my by Peter before I left, one was given to me by all my children and one..."
She held out her hand towards him. Frowning, he extended his hand. She dropped something it.
"This was given to me by my favorite boy. I have cherished it for years. When you find him, please have him return it to me."
Then she was gone.
He looked down, his hand shaking.
He remembered when before his mother left, he'd had shyly stepped towards her.
She had turned from her conversations with Peter to look at him, her eyes red.
"What is it, my Imp?"
He stood there in awe of her. She was the same age as he, he could tell, but she had given all the boys such kindness during her time here. Even him and even when he gave her such trouble. He knew why she was leaving, He knew she loved father, and that father didn't return her love, couldn't return her love.
"I...I made something for you." He said. She frowned, bending down slightly.
"But you and the other boys have already given me a lovely present."
"I made it for you at our last meeting with the Indians." He said. "I knew you would leave us soon."
She smiled softly at him, a hand going out to brush the blond strands from his face.
"My Imp, you will not be staying here for much longer either, will you?" she said sadly.
He smiled at her, not saying anything, instead handing her his present.
She took it, her eyes glistening with tears as she saw what it was.
"It's beautiful Imp." She said, slipping the carefully crafted Indian necklace over her head. It lay gently against the pink roses of her nightgown. "I will treasure it forever."
"Or until I come to reclaim it." he stated proudly.
She smiled, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "Or until you come to reclaim it." She agreed.
Draco looked down at the object in his hands. A delicately crafted Indian necklace lay there. Lovingly made by a nine year old Lost Boy from his Neverland mother. And he had finally reclaimed it.
He smiled, sliding the necklace in his pocket.
Perhaps when the upcoming war was over and everything was back to normal, he could do as she requested.