I don't own Harry Potter in anyway. Mrs. Rowling owns everything except Andrew, who is mine. And my poem. That was written by me.

Title: Dear Lost Child

Chapter One: Shocks and Tears

He watched her move solemly between the grave stones, a bouquet of the darkest red roses in her hands. The chilling fall wind seeped through the fibers of his clothes as he watched her in her long black dress and warm black cloak lined with gold silk. Her dark chocolate hair danced it's way down her back to her waist in a flood of waves as the wind swept it around. Her face was turned away from him, yet he felt as if he'd seen her before.

"She's pretty, isn't she?" a voice spoke up behind him. Draco Malfoy turned to see his blonde cousin, Donnavon Malfoy, had broken away from the group surrounding the open grave. "She comes here every day and talks to the grave, brings him new flowers, and all that. The town nut right there."

"Do you know who she is?" Draco asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No. Just that she's always here." Draco nodded and turned back to the lowering of his Father's coffin into the ground. His mother stood near, a stony look on her face covered by a black veil. Even at her own husband's funeral, she still managed to look immaculate.

Draco watched as the coffin was levitated into the ground and thought about how life would be like with out his father there. Blessed, maybe. Absent of a few luxuries. At least he'd left behind a hefty sum of money for his family. Having never felt any real love for his Father, he could only watch and not even cry as it hit bottom and was being covered by dirt.

His Mother moved over to him and grasped is arm. "I'll be home in a little bit, Mother. I have some business to attend to." She nodded silently and apparated back to the Malfoy Mansion.

Draco set across the cemetry to find the girl in the black dress. He walked silently through the blanket of dead leaves covering the ground and coating the stones of angels and such around him. A snowflake fluttered down and stuck his dark eyelashes and he looked up at the dark sky. More fell to his shoulder length platinum hair and his black, hooded cloak covering his black silk shirt and pants. The first snowflakes of winter. He chuckled to himself at the strange weather, for at the end of August, it wasn't supposed to snow.

He found her sitting in front of a granite head stone, tracing the carved letters that were sunk into the rock. Quietly they stepped behind a large stone angel, watching and listening to her talk to it.

"I miss you...I wish I could see you again. I wish that I could hear your voice. I took you for granted. You should see the way these people look at me. They think I've lost my mind...perhaps I have. I don't know anything anymore. All I know is that soon, I won't be coming to visit you. I've school. But I will think of you every day that I'm away. I'll never love anyone as much as you. I'll never ever betray you like that. I know what we said that night on the boat, but it will never happen. I will never have anyone but you. I miss you and I love you." Hot tears fell down her face as she weeped, leaning against the stone. Softly, she kissed it, then stood, replacing the old roses with the new and swept away from the grave. As she turned away, Draco got a glimpse of her face and immediately recognized her as Hermione Granger. He was so shocked that he stepped back in alarm, his foot landing on an odd branch and snapping it in half. He winced for the snapping was extremely loud in the silence. She heard and swept around, her eyes wide and searching.

Damnit. This is wonderful. He thought and kept as still as possible, hardly breathing. After a moment, she turned and walked swiftly across the cemetry and out the gates. He breathed a sigh of relief and stepped around the angel to look at the grave she had been visiting. "Andrew William Sebastian Traclin lll, June 4, 1986 - May 26, 2006. Beloved son, brother, friend, and fiance. He will be in all our hearts for eternity," read the grave stone. Beneath the name, a rose and stone printed picture entertwined together. A handsome man of 19, with dark hair and eyes. Draco stepped back and and looked toward the gates again, before apparating back to the Mansion.

The piercing whistle of the Hogwarts Express kick started Hermione Granger into action. Locked in that dazed area between deep thought and dozing, she jumped and grabbed her trolly, storing it safetly onto the train. She traveled up and down the compartments, searching for Harry and Ron. Finding them in a random compartment, she paused to look in. Lavender and Ginny sitting beside them, giggling like maniacs, made her back off and pass it. She knew that if she went in there they would either completely ignore her, or ask a million questions. And she also knew that she was ready for neither. They had written her a few letters over the summer, mostly just enough to be polite, but their letters never really said anything. She'd left them unaswered and she knew there would be questions as to why. She also knew that she just couldn't go into that right now. The wound was still too fresh and her pain was still too deep. She need time, though she didn't know how long. When she was ready.

Hermione went straight up to the heads cabin to relieve herself of the omminous feelings and the crowd. Rushing inside, she didn't noticed a figure already standing in the corner, looking out the window. He coughed and she spun, their eyes connecting in an instance.

"Malfoy," she said simply, almost in complete disbelief of the Head Boy badge twinkling on his chest. He nodded and turned away from her, sitting on a cushion and gazing again out the window. Hermione stood uncertainly for a moment, then like wise sat opposite him and pulled out a book. She waited tensely for the harsh words she was sure to hear from him for the book in her hands, but none came and she dared a glance over at him. He was still looking out the window, as if entirely oblivious to her presence. With a slight shrug of her shoulders and a creased eyebrow she turned back to her book.

God, what is it about her that makes me this insane? Draco asked himself as he watched the passing scenery. As soon as he had entered the gates to the Hogwarts Express, he'd looked for her, watching her from across the station as she sat silently on a bench deep in her thoughts. Or was she deep in her memories? Ever since he had seen her the week before, hadn't been able to get her out of his head. He had just kept picturing her tear stained face as she sat in front of the grave with her black cloak and deep red roses, surrounded by the crisp leaves of fall and the first snowflakes dropping down and melting against her ivory skin. He'd felt her pain as clearly as if it were his own and now, sitting across from her, he could feel it radiating again. What about the man in the grave had caused her to feel as though life had given her a swift kick in the stomach? "Beloved son, brother, friend, and fiance." Had she been the other part of the fiance relationship that was permenantly engraved upon the rock? He glanced at her quickly and saw that the book was held loosly in her hand and her chin tucked against her chest as she slept silently.

Impulsively he reached for his bag and pulled out parchment and quill. He pulled his thoughts from his mind and sent them down his arms, along into his fingers as he wrote them upon the page.

Dear, lost child

I can only wonder what life has dealt you

Lost and alone

Poor child

Feelings are lost sometimes

But these feelings aren't

The breaking of the heart

The pain and suffering

The hurt

The helplessness

I feel your pain, dear, lost child

But I can still only wonder what life has dealt you

No comforting hands, I'm guessing

No smooth words that rest easily in your ear

No support for the dear, lost child

You've lost part of you

Come to me, dear, lost child

I will be your comforting hands

I will provide smooth words that rest easily in your ear

I will be the support for the dear lost child

Not the cold, weather beaten stone of loss

But the sun warmed, light stone of gaining

Forever to be, the dear, found child

He read back over what he had written and suddenly felt embarrassed. Draco tried to imagine Hermione's reaction if she was ever to read his poem and found himself feeling upset. He knew that she would think him insane to even look at her. He didn't understand it either. Before that day in the cemetry, he'd never given a thought to Hermione Granger and her well being. After that day, it seemed all he could think about. It frightened him. His whole life he'd been taught to dispise all muggle borns. And now, he was experiencing feelings for one who, before a week ago, had never crossed his mind unless he was thinking up rude, callous things to say to her. Guilt sliced through him like a knife and he knew then that he could never convince her that what he was feeling was real. Too real, for his taste.

Draco folded up the poem and was about to place it withing the contents of his bag, when an impulse struck him. He paused then turned back to her. Even though alseep, the close book remained in her hand. He reached over and slipped his poem between two pages. Frightened at what he had just done, he jumped up and practically ran from the compartment to be alone with his thoughts.

Alright, I hope you guys like this. I know, I'm a fool for doing more than one fan fic but I was just inspired. Review. I don't care if you flame, because it just proves to me that you're an insecure individual.