Eight-year-old Draco gazed, bored, out of the window of his Aunt Andromeda's house. There was nothing to do; even though it was the summer holidays, he hadn't seen anyone all day other than his Aunt, Uncle and their daughter, Nymphadora. Draco found his cousin rather boring - she was beginning her fifth year, so her OWLs were coming up, and she was just sat on her bed surrounded by school books.
She wouldn't even tell Draco what Hogwarts was like. He wanted to know so badly, but she said that she had forgotten to study for the past five weeks, and only had seven days to revise for the extremely hard lessons and tests that were approaching.
He was now sick of his Aunt and Uncle's house.
He was only there because his father was off on a week-long trip to meet up with some 'old friends', and his mother wanted to go to Diagon Alley for some supplies before the last-minute rush for school supplies started.
"If Daddy asks," Narcissa had said to Draco, "you have never met Auntie Andromeda, or Uncle Ted, or cousin Nymphadora. Ok? If he asks, I've haven't even mentioned them." She then took Draco to their house using side-along Apparition, before quickly leaving before she was spotted.
Suddenly, Draco heard his Aunt shout from the kitchen.
"Draco! The little girl from across the road has just come outside on her bike. Why don't you go and see if you can join her?" She said. Draco jumped up and ran up to his Aunt.
"Really?" He asked, slightly disbelieving. He didn't usually have much freedom; his parents' house was quite a way away from any sort of village or town, and his father wouldn't let him play with the little muggle children anyway. But his father didn't know this time.
"As long as you're back by four. That's two and a half hours." Andromeda smiled at Draco's sudden eagerness.
"See you later! Thank you, Auntie!" He said, slipping on his trainers and opening the front door.
"Remember to stay on this road! If you want to go anywhere else, ask me first!" Andromeda warned.
"Of course!" Draco shouted, before closing the door quietly behind him with a small click.
Hermione felt very grown-up as she rode around on her new bike.
This was the first time her parents had let her out of the house unsupervised. She had gotten a bright purple bicycle for Christmas, and hadn't used it before now because she had either been at school or it had been too cold.
After riding up and down the road a few times, when she had finally started to be able to ride in a straight line, she heard a door open across the street. There was a boy's voice shouting, and then the door closed. Hermione looked up hopefully; a boy was walking towards her. He looked about her age, and had quite a thin, pasty face. His hair was light blonde and messy - his pale appearance contrasted greatly with his dark blue jeans and blood red jumper.
"Hello!" Hermione called, waving. Her bike swerved suddenly to the left, and she fell, and ended up sprawled on the ground. The boy ran over, and held out a hand. He helped her to her feet.
"Are you ok?" He asked quickly.
"Fine." Hermione said, not meeting the boy's eyes. She felt her face heat up.
Brushing a few stray strands of hair out of her face, she picked up her bike, and sat back on it.
"What's that?" The boy asked, pointing at the bike.
"This? It's a bike." Hermione replied, raising an eyebrow. How could this boy possibly not know what a bike was?
"How does it work?" The boy asked. Hermione frowned.
"You don't know how to ride a bike?" She questioned. The boy shook his head. Hermione slid off the bike, and held firmly onto the handlebars. "Here, climb on to it. put your feet on the pedals - those bits of plastic, there - and hold on to the handlebars. Use these to stop, they're brakes. Just press them. Now, go!" Hermione let go of the handlebars, and the boy started rolling down the hill. He pushed experimentally on the pedals, and sped up. When he finally seemed to realise that he was going too fast, he pressed on the brakes - Hermione watched as the bike skidded to a halt. She thought that the boy would be fine, until the last moment, when the bike slowly toppled over sideways. The boy landed on the ground.
Hermione ran down the road to where the boy lay.
"Are you hurt?" She said.
"No. Wait -actually, I think that I might have -" the boy rolled up his sleeve to reveal a large graze on his forearm. Hermione stood up the bike, which had landed on the boy's foot, and this time, she helped him up.
"Oh no. Look, I've been practising this thing, although you can't tell anyone. I don't think I'm supposed to, I don't know. You will be the first one I've told." Hermione felt slightly fearful as she placed a hand over the boy's injury. She closed her eyes, concentrating.
Draco watched in astonishment as his scraped arm healed before his eyes. The pain stopped within seconds. The girl reopened her eyes, and smiled at him.
"You musn't tell anybody. I might get into trouble." She told him.
"I won't." Draco promised. There was a moment of silence. "Are you a witch?" He asked hopefully.
"A witch? That's really mean!" The girl said, turning away from his and storming off towards her bike.
"No! That's - that's not what I meant!" Draco shouted. The girl hesitated. She then continued, grabbing her bike, and walking back to Draco, wheeling it along beside her.
"What did you mean, then?" She asked, eyes narrowed.
"I just meant - well, witches are just people who have magical powers. I don't know what you thought witches were."
"Calling someone a witch is an insult." The girl said.
"Really?" Draco didn't understand this. "I'm not from here. Where I come from, witches are just females who possess the ability to - well, they have powers. They can make stuff out of thin air, change stuff into other stuff, heal..." He gestured to his arm.
"Oh." The girl looked thoughtful for a moment. "Where are you from, then?"
"Well, I don't live in a village, or a town. Just a mansion in the middle of nowhere. I'm home-schooled, so I don't have anyone to talk to. But in all the books I've read, witches are good. I'm just visiting my Aunt and Uncle."
"In the books I've read, witches are good and bad. I've read lots of books. Do you want me to show you some of them?" Draco nodded.
"Let me just ask Auntie Andromeda." He sprinted back up the hill, and opened the door.
As Hermione got back on her bike, she heard the boy's shouting.
"Can I go round to that girl's house? She's showing me books."
"Fine, but I still want you back by four." Hermione rode quickly up the road, and the boy came into view, looking rather satisfied.
"I'm allowed." He said.
"I heard." She smiled. The pair went together towards Hermione's house. They opened the gate, and went up the path. Hermione hopped off her bike, and leaned it against the wall of the small garden shed, before opening the back door, and gesturing for the boy to go inside. He stepped in, and slid off his shoes, before waiting for Hermione to do the same.
"Mummy, I've brought a friend round." She called. Her mother appeared from the living room.
"That's lovely, darling. Play nicely, now." She said, with a warm smile. "Do either of you need any food? Drink?" Hermione looked straight at the boy to answer.
"No thank you, but thanks for the offer. It's very kind of you." He said in a small voice.
"No problem at all." Hermione's mum disappeared back into the living room, and Hermione took the boy's hand and led him up to her room. A huge bookshelf lined one wall; on the opposite wall was a bed, and then under the road-facing window was a small table, topped with a lamp, tissue box, and water bottle. On the other side of the bed was a large wardrobe.
Though the room was small, the tidiness and the white and lilac colour scheme made it feel quite spacious. Hermione began to search through her vast collection of books for the ones about witches.
Draco looked around the room with great interest. It was quite warm, and light, and the floor was a fluffy carpet rather than the cold, hard stone that he was used to. With a glance at the bookshelf, he realised that they were all brightly coloured storybooks, with fun-looking illustrations. He wanted to read them; he hadn't seen books like this before. He had only seen old, dusty, leather-bound books, with pages and pages just of writing. No pictures.
The closest his house got to a story book was The Tales of Beedle the Bard, a book aimed at children. The illustrations, however, were very small, and only black and white, and Draco had to get his mother to read the writing because it was too small and loopy and squiggly rather than just printed like in the Daily Prophet.
Draco picked up a book, and turned carefully through the pages. He caught sight of some writing on the inside of the front cover - flicking back, he read it.
Hermione Jean Granger
Age 8
The handwriting was extremely neat, and Draco immediately felt ashamed of his own. He continued to read the first few pages of the book. It was very interesting - about three orphaned siblings.
"Here," the girl, Hermione, said, handing Draco a new book.
Do not take witches lightly. They are evil beings, who will torture and kill anyone or thing that gets in their way. They brew poisons in the dead of night, and experiment on animals and children that they have kidnapped. Witches are very different to humans, and yet they live amongst us, slowly planning how to get rid of all the human beings.
Draco snapped the book shut.
"But - witches aren't like that. They are just people, but they have all these amazing powers, like wizards. Witches and wizards are the same, by the way, just for girls and boys."
"So... you're saying... I have magic powers? No offence, but that's ridiculous." Hermione said, though she looked unsure. Though Draco didn't know her well, he felt almost protective of her - she seemed like the kind of person who was smart and organised and always in control (he could tell just from the state of her bedroom), and yet now she seemed very confused and lost. She looked up at him, a pleading look in her eyes. Draco sat down on the bed beside her.
"Nah. You're right, it's probably not magic. Although if it is, it's normal. I'm sure loads of people can do that." Hermione, apparently willing to believe anything, nodded, and exhaled. She continued to look at the book, and Draco, for the first time, really studied her appearance.
She had wild brown curls which reached down to her shoulders. There was a light sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks, which were slightly pink from the cold outside. She was wearing a red and pink striped jumper, and a pair of jeans. When she smiled, Draco saw that she had rather large front teeth - however, he found that by far the most memorable thing about her appearance was her eyes. They were warm, and the colour of dark chocolate. Most people in his family had the same cold, harsh, emotionless, pale blue eyes - he wasn't used to this. He could read almost what she was thinking just from her eyes.
"Do you want to ask my parents if we can go to the library?" Hermione asked suddenly. Draco thought for a moment, before a mischievous grin spread across his face.
"But this place practically is a library." He remarked.
"A real library." Hermione said, with a mock-stern expression on her face.
"Ok, then." Draco agreed.
Hermione ran down the stairs as fast as she could. It was fun, hanging out with someone who had similar interests to her; usually people called her bossy or nerdy, and just kept away from her.
"Mum! Can I cycle down to the library? Can I go with my friend?" She asked.
"Ok, then. Be very careful, and go straight there and come straight back. No messing around on the way. Be back by five. And wear your helmet."
"Will do!" Hermione called, running back up the stairs. "We can go." She told the boy. They left quickly, pausing only to find Hermione's helmet from the garden shed.
The pair were halfway down to the library when Draco remembered, with a jolt, his Aunt's warning not to leave the street.
"Oh, Merlin." He muttered under his breath.
"What was that? What's merlin? I haven't heard anyone say that before."
"Just this guy... I don't know. It's just a saying." Draco told her, shrugging. Hermione carried on cycling, slowly, with Draco walking beside her. There was silence for a few minutes.
"Are you an only child?" Hermione asked suddenly. Draco paused.
"Yeah, why. Does it show?" He asked.
"A bit. I'm an only child too. Do you have many friends? I don't. I wasn't sure whether it was just me, or whether it was because I'm so used to talking to adults all the time."
"I don't have any friends, to be honest. I only ever tend to see my mother and father. Quite a lot of my family are in A-" Draco caught himself before he could say 'Azkaban'. Hermione stopped cycling, and frowned at him. "America. A lot of my family live in America." Draco said quickly. Hermione nodded.
"I've not really got much family. My parents are both only children, so I've got no Aunts or Uncles or cousins."
"I've got a cousin. She's extremely boring. Always studying."
"She doesn't sound that bad to me." Hermione commented. Draco shrugged.
"Speaking of family, my Aunt told me to not leave the street." He admitted.
"Do you want to go back?" Hermione asked. Draco thought for a moment.
"What time is it?" He asked. Hermione looked confused as she check her watch.
"Five to four."
"Time does fly when you're having fun. I'm supposed to be back at four." Draco said.
"Oh." Hermione looked disappointed. "You'll be late if you don't run back now." She dismounted her bike, and came closer to Draco. He didn't have time to protest before she drew him into a hug.
He didn't pull away. In fact, he rather enjoyed it, though it lasted for only a minute. It was as though he had friends - although, he reminded himself, Hermione was his friend. He could tell; there was something about the way she had hugged him that showed genuine emotion, and that made him feel appreciated for who he was, rather than who his ancestors were. He hugged her back, and attempted to tell her without words that he cared about her too, even though they barely knew each other. To Draco, however, it was as though he had known her all his life - they were in similar situations. Both single children, mature for their age, from respectable backgrounds. They were both afraid of the unknown; Hermione with her powers, and Draco with his future. Neither were popular, or had many close relatives.
As they finally pulled apart, Draco caught a whiff of something - he suspected it was shampoo, or hand cream, or perfume, or something. It was lavender.
It didn't mean anything to him, but it held his attention for a few seconds, purely because he liked the smell.
"Bye. It was nice meeting you." Hermione said in a small voice.
"Bye. Uh - you too." Draco said. He held out his hand, and Hermione shook it.
"If you ever come again, feel free to come round to my house."
"Thanks." Draco said. There was an awkward silence, before Hermione turned to her bike.
"I'd best be going." She said.
"Me too." Draco replied, taking off up the road, around the corner, down the alleyway and finally back up the hill his Aunt lived on first at a slow walk, then a jog, then a sprint. He didn't look back - he didn't dare. He didn't think he would be able to resist returning.
As Hermione mounted her bike once more and continued to the library, she regretted her decision not to walk back with the boy. He was the first person who seemed to genuinely like her - she had made a conscious effort to try and let him know that when they had hugged.
When they had hugged, she had smelled an unusual smell - spearmint toothpaste. It was a bit weird, but she swore to herself to remember it, even if nothing else.
She had also realised, for the first time, that fictional characters and friends were slightly different to each other. Book characters were dependable, always there, often more perfect than people. Friends were different in that they could share your opinions, thoughts, or even emotions. She had not yet read about a character like her - but she had met the boy.
Her final thought before she reached the library was the realisation she didn't even know the boy's name.
AN: I think I'll only add one more chapter, but please leave reviews. I like reading them :)
