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Stranger

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I'm Malfoy. Rose Malfoy.

And suddenly he was there, again, in the Entrance Hall at Hogwarts for the first time, waiting to enter the Great Hall with all the new first years, standing beside Harry.

"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

His heart slowed.

I'm Malfoy. Rose Malfoy.

His eyes glazed over and the outside world faded.

I'm Malfoy. Rose Malf-. I'm Malfoy. Rose Mal-

He couldn't hear anything over the sound rushing blood filling his ears.

I'm Malfoy. Rose -. I'm Malfoy.

He couldn't breathe, there just wasn't enough oxygen in the air.

Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy.

"Ron?" came a soft, concerned voice. It sounded distant.

"What's wrong with him, mum?" came another soft, curious voice. This one was closer, but still far away.

Hushed tones and muffled conversation hovered just beyond the haze of his mind.

"Are you alright? Mister?" came the same voice. This time it pierced through his foggy mind.

When he came to it, Ron found himself peering into the face of a child, who was suddenly only a few inches from him, whose eyes were curious and slightly concerned and for the briefest moment she looked exactly like her mother.

"Ron, are you alright?" Hermione's voice.

His gaze flickered up to find Hermione watching him carefully, concerned and apprehensive. He was once again struck with how beautiful she was, despite all the things they had been made to suffer, nature was being kind to her and he vaguely registered Malfoy's absence. Malfoy. His attention shifted back to the little girl. Her eyes were still curious and slightly concerned, but she had now returned to her place pressed against Hermione.

"Rose...Malfoy." he whispered.

Annoyance replaced concern as she wondered why he felt the need repeat her name when she was quite sure she had said it with perfect clarity. She shifted her head to glance questioningly up at her mother and when she received no response she looked back at Ron.

"Yes." she replied slowly, though she wasn't sure whether she answering to her name or confirming that it was indeed her name.

The uncomfortable silence that followed lasted almost twenty seconds before Ron settled on a 'safe' topic for discussion. He opted not to go with the 'catching up with old friends' approach, that could easily lead to a lot of questions he'd rather not answer right now. He decided to direct most of the conversation to Rose, mentally prepared a small list of questions to ask and cleared his throat.

"So," he began, "Rose, how old are you?" Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. I already know how old she is.

"Seven and half," she answered "and you?"

"Rose," Hermione hissed, "you don't ask adults their age."

"You keep saying that, but I don't see why I shouldn't."

"Beca-"

"No. No, uh, it's fine. Really." Ron cut in, "I - me - I'm thirty."

"See, mum. He hasn't a problem saying it!" Rose chimed, giving Hermione a self-satisfied smirk.

That smirk. That damn smirk that graced his daughter's face had no business being there, and yet, it looked perfectly in place, so natural and that made Ron's stomach flip in the most uncomfortable way. While Rose reveled in fact that she was right and her mother was wrong, Ron took a second to push down the feeling of unease.

"Right, well, what's your favourite colour?" he pushed.

"Purple," she stated simply. Well, at least it's not gree-

"And green," she amended, "but mostly purple." Great. This is just great.

"Well, my favourite colour is red," Ron supplied.

At this, Rose made a face muttered a disgusted "Bleh."

"What? What's wrong with red?" Ron asked, slightly amused.

"Well," she paused to make another sound of disgust, "it's just an awful colour."

"Why on earth would you say that?"

"It's just," she paused, "red is just far too loud. It just kind of screams at you, you know? And I don't like being screamed at by anyone let alone colours."

Ron chuckled at her reasoning and looked to Hermione for further explanation. Hermione merely shrugged as she ran her fingers lovingly through the girl's hair.

In the next thirty minutes Ron found out that she had three dogs: Reggie, Dot and Badger, a kneazle named Patty and snake called Floyd. Her favourite thing to eat was a muggle food, pizza and she hated pickles. She also wasn't a big fan of cake, but she loved ice cream and her favourite was a muggle flavour - strawberry cheesecake. Rose loved animals, big, fluffy ones she could pet, but - much to her mother's consternation - had an odd fascination with insects and things that crawled. She loved to read - no surprise there - rather than being read to, but didn't have a favourite book because she loves "way to many books to choose a favourite." She loves to dance and takes ballet classes at a muggle dance studio not too far from this park . Rose plays the piano, which she started "at the tender age of three" as Hermione proudly stated and is thinking about starting violin lessons. Ron was nothing short of impressed by her. Wow, she's perfect. The conversation between Rose and himself was going quiet smoothly, considering the rocky start.

"Do you play any sports, Rose?"

"Uh-huh, football" she answered and gleefully added, "I'm learning to fly!"

Ron laughed at her enthusiasm and looked to Hermione for confirmation. When they made eye contact she rolled her eyes and groaned, Ron laughed, again. Ha! Hermione - woman who hates flying and anything related- had a daughter who was clearly very fond of it. This is gold!

"I can't believe you let her on a broom, 'Mione!" Hermione just groaned in response.

"Please, mum wouldn't let me go near a broom if it weren't for daddy!" Rose cheerfully added.

There it was, again. Daddy. The light atmosphere that they managed to develop evaporated instantly. Ron tensed and the Hermione's grip on Rose tightened. Daddy. That one word caused the harsh reality to come crashing in. He was more than content to forget the Slytherin had even existed, but that was not to be.

"Daddy says if it were up to just him I would have been on a broom before I could walk! Daddy is an amazing flyer! You should see him on a broom, Mister Ron." Rose continued, the sudden shift in mood was lost on her.

"Um, well," Ron swallowed, shifting uncomfortably, but Rose just prattled on.

"Uh-huh, did you know he was Quidditch team captain when he was at school? He was a seeker. I want to be a seeker, too. When I go Hogwarts I'm going to make the team and when I get to seventh year I'm going to be captain just like daddy. That's why I have to start learning from now, I'll be so good that they'll have to pick me. I reckon I'll even want to be Head Girl, too. Mum and dad were the Heads, did you know that? Hmm, Mister Ron?"

"Well, that's very, um, ambitious of you, Rose" he responded.

Rose, unperturbed by his lack of enthusiasm for her future plans, replied, "Yeah, I have a lot on my plate, dad says." then added haughtily, "Nothing a Malfoy can't handle."

Nothing a Malfoy can't handle.

Hearing her call another man 'daddy' made Ron feel angry and confused. Hearing her call Draco Malfoy 'daddy' made him feel angry, hurt and utterly betrayed, but hearing her claim the Malfoy name so easily, so innocently. That did him in. He realised now, that all the 'progress' he had made in the last hour meant little or nothing this little girl. As far as she was concerned, Draco Malfoy her father and knowing her favourite colour and her favourite food was not going to change that. Before Ron could utter the weak response he had yet to formulate, Hermione interrupted.

"Yeah, you can handle it" Hermione said quietly to her daughter before placing her attention on Ron.

"Well," started, "as...lovely as this has been, um, Rose and I have to get going or we'll be late for tea."

Ron was barely paying attention, he just nodded absently and watched numbly as Hermione packed up her books and Rose's things. When she was done, she stood up and pulled Rose to do the same. Something in the back of Ron's head told him that he should stand as well, to see them off, but he was far too troubled to follow proper social etiquette. He only fully registered that they were really leaving when Hermione cleared her throat, he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Right, of course." he mumbled before looking at Rose and the cautious smile she gave him drove him make a last effort - until next time - to get closer to her.

"Well, that was nice, wouldn't you say, Rose?" He said to her. She didn't reply with words as he had hoped, she merely nodded.

"I guess we can say we're friends, now, right?" he pressed offering her weak smile. Rose made a face before looking thoughtful.

"No, we can't be friends just like that!" she said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, and why not?" he questioned.

Rose gave a small snort of laughter, smiled, looked him square in the eye and said,

"Because I only just met you, you're still a stranger."

you're still a stranger. you're still a stranger. - still a stranger. - still a stranger. - a stranger.

Her innocent, matter-of-fact statement shook him to the core, because she was right.

He was a stranger.

Author's Note: Well, that's part three. I really don't know whether or not I'll be making this a full on fic, so I can't make any promises of continuing. I hope you like this one. Feel free to point out mistakes, typos or any other type of error and reviews are always appreciated!