A/n: In this story, Draco and Ginny are around four and five. The necklace is mainly an opening for me to carry on with this rather then just leave it as a one-shot, but I also thought it might be a little extra touch to show how innocent children can be, before they are corrupted by evil tyrant fathers.
Before they learned that it was wrong, it felt so right.
Her heart leapt as she watched him hurry towards her. His hair was haphazardly tousled, turning alternatively gold and silver in the bright afternoon light. His emerald green robes were splayed open, revealing a crisp black collared shirt and dark pants. Draco always did look smart, while she wore her normal cotton hand-me-down tops and tatty jeans. But differences didn't matter in between such an innocently naïve friendship.
Stifling giggles, she slid behind the thick tree trunk and disappeared into the hollow bark. It was hidden and magically secured by young witches and wizards long passed, who'd probably used this same space for less innocent things then the two who used it now. It was Ginny and Draco's hiding place, this tree: They'd meet here every 'nap-time', and discuss anything and everything and sometimes they'd barely talk at all. Yet though they knew each others favourite Quidditch teams, each others view on toffee, butterbeer and all things magical, they barely new each others age, let alone the fact that their families were currently engaged in an age old blood feud.
She heard him panting lightly heavily as he drew up next to the hollow oak, and watched as his form shadowed over the entrance, before he pushed through the translucent concealing charm. He tumbled in the dimly lit space, illuminated only by the sun-light that seeped through the charm and a hole many meters above there heads that gave them a glimpse through a weather-proof charm of blue skies.
"Ginny!" he exclaimed, and sat down with a plop on one of the cushion she'd brought from home months ago. With her he was so different from when he usually saw him. In class, he always stood straight backed and serious, never laughing, barely smiling. Conducting himself with utmost aristocracy, class and a sophisticated elegance she could never have. "I'm sorry, but Mrs. Lovegood kept checking on us! I had to pretend I was asleep, and it was aged before she finally left the room for more then a few minutes."
"You don't think she knows about us do you?" Ginny asked nervously, her brown eyes searching his slate ones.
He grinned at her. He never did that in public; he just smiled serenely or smirked. But he grinned at her. "I doubt it. She's just a bit eccentric. Funny, she's changed since she got married."
"You knew her before she was married? I thought they only had a kid like, when I was born – Y'know, Luna! And you can only get kids when your married Dad says. He said it was a rule."
"Mother knew her before, and mother likes to tell me stuff." Draco said, slightly put out. "And I know it's a rule!" and Ginny giggled at his tone of voice.
For a while they sat in a content silence, leaning against each other, Draco secretly playing with her rich copper hair. It fascinated him, with all its shades and tones, but he figured if she knew he liked her hair, she'd tease him. Not horribly of course, though the red-haired kid in his year did. She'd tease him nicely, and he bet she'd never be mean about his mother. He supposed she must be related to the nasty little red-haired Ron-kid. But it didn't really matter. She was much kinder, and so much prettier. Not that he'd ever find another boy petty. So he played with her curls, running his fingers through them, hoping she wouldn't notice.
She did though. She always did, though she never told him. Ginny knew that if she told him about one of his secrets, he'd deny it and go of pouting for days. She wanted to tell one of her brothers about him, but she was scared they'd take him as their friend. Ron was in Draco's year, and he might find her stupid brothers better then her. So she lay beside her platinum haired Secret, thinking over Quidditch and day-dreaming of the day she got her first new broom.
Finally, Draco stood. "H-hey Ginny?" he asked, and she noticed he was suddenly nervous, "I got u-um some…something for you."
Immediately she worried if she should have gotten him something too.
He read her mind: "N-no, it's fine. I just wanted to get you something 'cause you're the nicest to me out of everybody. You've got other people nice to you, so if you bought me something it would make them feel bad…or something."
She nodded.
He sucked in his breath and pulled a box from behind his back. "Open it!" he ordered slightly breathlessly, handing the black object to her. Ginny complied, and let out a long gasp as she opened the box. Tucked inside the black velvet interior was a round crystal sphere, held to a silver chain by a coiling green eyed dragon. As she held it to the faint spell-blocked light in awe, she remembered telling him about her love for dragons the week before. She'd gushed about how her brother Charlie knew so much about them, and how she too would be a famous dragon expert just like him, her third career path that week. And he'd remembered.
"Wow, Draco, this must have cost gazillions!" and for the first time in her life, she watched him blush. Sure it wasn't the full flush her family was prone to, but the slight pink-tinge in his cheeks told her just how special their friendship was: she bet he'd never blushed in front of anything else that day.
The two were to spend the next thirty-five minutes of their remaining forty minutes of naptime wrapped in each others arms, an embrace of purely strong platonic love. Tomorrow, Draco would be taken from the pureblood kindergarten by his furious father, after Lucius learnt just how much money he'd spent on a Weasley brat. The next day, Ginny would come in crying after listening to the cruel things Draco's father had done, and convinced the friendship was nothing but part of a villainous plot. But right now, none of that mattered. Right now, what was so wrong, would feel so right.