Before Second-Year

'Well, well, well. Who have we here,' a cold voice sneered from around the bookcases.

The mass of brown hair falling over a book quivered and parted. From under the chestnut chaos, a head emerged, and two curious hazel eyes looked up, brows furrowed.

Bollocks.

Hermione had purposely escaped to the Squib Literature section in Flourish & Blotts to get away from the pathetic fight that had erupted, just now, between the Misters Weasley and Malfoy.

Was it too much to ask to have a peaceful moment, just this once?

And yet, here he stood, the very reason, or at least, part of the reason, she'd run off. The boy she had learned to despise. The boy who, once, she'd imagined to be her friend.

Draco looked her up and down, his mouth twisting into an ugly sneer. Automatically, Hermione jumped up to face him, her head held high and brandishing her wand.

'What do you want, Malfoy,' she demanded in that imperious tone she rarely used anymore, the one that drove Ron up the walls.

'Just checking what little Miss Teacher's Pet was up to,' he drawled. He took a step towards her, and eyed her through stone-cold eyes. 'We couldn't allow for any more accidents to happen, could we?'

Intent on circumventing further trouble, Hermione closed the book and swiftly moved to put it back on its shelf, but Draco was too quick. He snatched it out of her hands.

' The Wonderful Wizard of Oz ?' he scoffed and cracked it open. 'What Muggle idiocy is this?' He carelessly flipped through the pages.

'Hey! Give it back!' Hermione lunged forward and got hold of the book, but Draco, who refused to let go, pulled the volume towards himself, and so they both stumbled, hands on the opened book, into the next bookcase. Through the swirl of limbs and clothes and robes, they somehow continued falling, weightlessly falling , until they smacked suddenly, hard , onto firm ground.

'Ouch!'

'Oww!'

'Get off me!'

' You get off me!'

Both scrambled back onto their feet, hastily disentangling their arms and legs. They awkwardly shuffled away from each other.

Hermione picked up the book that had fallen to the ground. She inspected it diligently. 'You're lucky it's not harmed,' she huffed with indignation.

Draco remained uncharacteristically mute.

Hermione looked up. 'Malfoy, wha–?'

The question got stuck in her throat. Where there had been wooden bookcases and the thick, burgundy carpets of Flourish & Blotts, there was now a wide, beautiful clearing, a sea of flowers, blooming red, blue, and purple. At the very edge of the woods, Hermione spotted a tiny cottage—when Draco made a strange gurgling sound. Startled, she looked in his direction and her heart almost stopped: a tall woman with a green face distorted by the ugliest expression she had ever seen thundered towards them. Her feet were covered in the most ridiculous sparkling ruby slippers, but her night-black robes were fluttering dramatically behind her as she approached them. Gripped in her hands was a black thorny wand erupting purple flames.

'Oh God.'

Hermione was the first to react. She pushed Malfoy to the side, and they both dove behind a large boulder, barely escaping a flash of green light that exploded where they'd just stood mere seconds ago.

'She's trying to kill us!' Draco's voice was high and panicky.

He ducked just as a series of flashes, green and red, split the air above their heads. Hermione scrambled to her feet and peeked around the stone.

'What are you doing?' Draco hissed from the ground.

Hermione threw a spell back at the witch.

'When I tell you to, go and run. Hide somewhere else!' she said between her teeth, wildly scanning their surroundings. 'There! Behind that tree trunk!'

It was a couple of metres to the left from their hiding place. Another red spark sailed over their heads, and they ducked lower.

'Oh no…' Draco was shaking. 'Why is this happening now ?'

There was another ear-splitting bang. Hermione peeked over the stone and swiftly stood up, slicing her wand through the air. 'Flipendo!' The air crackled from the magic, and her hair was standing up in all directions. 'Now!' she shouted at him.

' What ?'

'Hurry up, Malfoy! Get out of the way!' she screamed, eyes glued to the witch. Draco stared at her, wide-eyed and completely unmoving.

Hermione threw another spell at the witch. There was a bang and then a lot of smoke.

'DRACO, MOVE!'

He willed his limbs into action, and fixing his eyes on the large tree trunk Hermione had pointed out, he sprinted over in a zigzag line and dove behind it. When the smoke cleared a few moments later, he had an excellent view of what was happening.

The air above the meadow sizzled from the heat of the spells the ugly witch was throwing Hermione's way. Draco was starting to get worried for her, wondering if he should help. Just when he had almost made his mind up to do something , Hermione's eyes glinted in triumph.

' Flipendo !' she shouted again, slashing her wand through the air with the confidence of an adult, and the witch stumbled, her feet suddenly pulled up into the air. She fell onto her back with a thump.

Taking in her adversary, Hermione jumped to stand behind the boulder, the wand firmly gripped in her tiny hand. Her face was ashen, but a resolve glinted in her eyes.

A tingle ran down Draco's spine, as he watched, not daring to breathe.

Sure and steady, she lifted her hand and swished. The massive stone rose from the ground, higher and higher, until it hovered over the witch who was just coming to. The stone quivered, earth and dirt dropping from where it had been buried deep in the ground. The witch raised her arms over her head, and, in a moment of crushing realisation that seemed to stretch and stretch like a rubber-band, she let out a long, furious screech. Draco stared transfixed at Hermione's wrist, poised in the air and unmoving. The witch raised her wand, opening her mouth with a deadly curse on the tip of her tongue, but abruptly, as if by accident , Hermione— flicked her wrist. The boulder plunged. A finite, stomach-churning sound reverberated around the clearing, silencing the screaming witch, crushed into the ground.

'Oh god,' Hermione whispered. She looked white as a sheet. 'I just, I… I… oh god – '

For a couple of moments, her whimpers drowned in the absolute silence that was blanketing the meadow. The air was still bristling from the magic; streams of smoke were twisting skywards. Neither of them dared to move. Suddenly rejoicing, deafening cheers erupted all around them. From the edge of the woods tiny people, house-elves , poured onto the clearing, clapping and singing and dancing.

'You saved us!' Draco blurted out, and his arms made a jerking movement as if he wanted to hug her. But he didn't, and so they stood there, unmoving and rather awkwardly, neither chancing a glance at that horrible lifeless heap underneath the stone.

Meanwhile, elves in colourful dresses and suits kept rushing onto the scene. Two elves, one decidedly taller than the other, but both wearing identical yellow polka-dot dresses under white aprons, cautiously approached them.

'Miss saved us from the Wicked Witch! Miss saves us!' the taller one shouted.

'What?' Draco had found his voice again, but it was still shaky.

Hermione stared transfixed at a troop of house-elves, clad in matching green overalls, levitating the boulder off of the dead witch, while a couple of others made to cover her crushed body with a dirty white sheet. She shuddered and turned away.

'Miss saved us!' the smaller elf repeated, now a little more forceful. Her partner slowly edged in front of her.

'Are you good witches, or bad witches?' she said, frowning at the pair of them when neither reacted. Hermione just stared at them. Draco stared at Hermione.

'Um, a good witch, I suppose,' Hermione said finally, her brows knitted. With a quick gesture, she wiped at her eyes. She glanced at Draco, smiling tentatively. 'I don't know about this one, though.'

The elves eyed Draco suspiciously.

'Now wait a second, Granger!' Draco protested, nervously glancing at the groups of house-elves bustling in the clearing; some were watching them with barely concealed curiosity. 'I'm a wizard! A good wizard,' he said with emphasis and glared at Hermione. 'Tell them, Granger!'

'Should we bind him, Miss?' the smaller elf asked earnestly. The other snipped her fingers and a long rope materialised in her spindly hands.

'Granger!'

'Oh, no! It was just a joke, just a joke!' Hermione said quickly. 'He's a good… witch,' she added and chuckled. Her laughter died off when the elves in green marched past them, the body of the wicked witch hidden under the cloth levitating between them. The ruby slippers had been taken off her.

Hermione was now looking very serious.

' Who was she?' asked Malfoy.

'She was the Wicked Witch of the East,' the smaller house-elf said. 'She has held all the House-elves in bondage for many years, making them slave for her night and day. Now they are all set free, and are grateful to you for the favour.'

'How can you be in bondage? You're already wearing clothes,' he asked, bewildered.

'Nevermind that,' Hermione said. 'The Wicked Witch of the East? But you're not Munchkins – you're... house-elves , aren't you?'

' What? ' Malfoy and the house-elves said in unison.

'Munchkins. You know, the people that were enslaved by the Wicked Witch of the East… in the Wizard of Oz?'

' This does not make any bloody sense –' Draco muttered under his breath.

'Ohhhhh,' said one elf with almost comically exaggerated adoration, his large bat ears flapping in excitement, 'You know the Great Wizard? You must be very powerful witches!'

'What are you talking about?' Malfoy hissed irritably. 'Who is this Wizard of Oz? Who was that witch? And most importantly,' his voice rose an octave, 'what on earth is the matter with these shoes?! '

The elves in green had returned with the odd, sparkling, red shoes and seemed eager to get them onto Hermione's feet. The bustling on the clearing, meanwhile, was steadily transforming into a full-fledged party: a marching band was unpacking its instruments, a couple of elves in elegant white uniforms were busy setting up a long dining table in the centre, while a group of others were piling dishes and dishes of steaming hot food onto it.

'It seems we've landed in the Wizard of Oz. It's a Muggle story,' Hermione explained quickly when Malfoy opened his mouth. 'It's about an American girl with her dog Toto. They're swept away into this magical country called Oz. To get back home they ask the powerful Wizard for help. That's why she travels to the Emerald City where he lives. But along the way, she meets several creatures and together—'

'Granger!' Draco snapped. ' Shut it for just for a second, and focus on the important stuff, will you! You're not seriously telling me that we're in a story ?'

'Um. It would seem so. We're hardly in Diagon Alley anymore, are we.'

'No, really?' Draco said sarcastically. He pinched his eyes shut. 'Let me get this straight. We're in a… a Muggle story?'

'Um, yes, but–'

'And how is it that Muggles know about house-elves?' Draco said, his voice rising. 'I mean, that can't be right!' He laughed and it sounded slightly hysterical. ' It can't.'

'Well, that's what I was trying to tell you!' she said vehemently. 'It's like the Muggle version, but not quite. In the Muggle version, instead of house-elves, there are Munchkins, which are other magical creatures but also similar to house-elves. And the witch is killed by Dorothy, but only by accident because her house falls onto her. And she's with her dog but—'

'All right, all right! Like the Muggle story, but not quite. I don't think we need to know all the sordid details.' Draco rolled his eyes. 'Because the far more important question is: how do we get back?'

Hermione picked up the book from the ground and inspected it. Luckily, it had survived the fight without so much as a scratch. 'We must have activated some kind of spell when we touched it.' She carefully leafed through the volume. 'It's so strange. There's nothing out of the ordinary. No magical traces, no spells–'

She tapped her wand against the leather binding.

' Specialis Revelio !'

Nothing happened. She repeated the spell, to no avail. She frowned. 'Maybe we could try… touching it again?'

'Are you serious ?' Draco crossed his arms. 'Aren't you supposed to be the bright one?'

'I don't see you bringing up any ideas!'

Draco grumbled, but he still stretched out his hands. They both touched the book, gingerly and extremely wary of accidentally brushing each other's fingers.

Nothing happened.

'Hm.' Hermione worried her lip. She was so lost in thought that she hardly noticed the ruckus all around her. By now, the house-elf band was in full swing, entertaining a singing and dancing crowd; and the table was practically bending under a cornucopia of dishes and delicacies. And then there were the two elves, jumping up and down, and trying to catch her attention.

'Miss, Miss!'

'Can't they shut up just for a second? This is giving me a headache!' Draco glared at the house-elves.

He didn't want to show it, but he was growing increasingly worried about what would happen if his parents didn't find him in time. His father had admonished him once already not to run away. He could only imagine what he would say, if he disappeared.

'Isn't that interesting? The celebration of the Munch– er... House-elves is also–'

'Yes, yes,' he cut her off, impatiently tapping his fingers against his leg. 'What about our way out ?'

'Miss, Miss!'

'We still do have our wands.' Hermione considered her Vinewood wand. Draco pulled his Hawthorn wand out of his pocket, visibly relieved at its sight. 'So that's something, I guess. But neither of us knows how to apparate, and even if we could, it might not even work…' She scrunched up her nose.

'Miss! Miss!'

'In other words: you have no idea how to get us out of here.'

Hermione bristled. 'Again: what's your contribution?' Draco pursed his lips but didn't reply. She sighed. 'I really wish Harry was here with us. He 'd come up with a plan in an instant!'

'Potter?' Draco snorted. 'Don't make me laugh, Granger. Potty wouldn't know the first thing to do – even if he had a list of instructions.'

'Seems to be enough to escape from You-Know-Who's clutches – twice!'

Draco flinched ever so slightly. 'Pure luck. And didn't you help, too?'

'What's that – a compliment?'

'Absolutely NOT !' Draco had become quite red in the face, but Hermione only laughed.

'MISS! MISS!'

Startled, Hermione looked down, finally directing her attention to the two bouncing elves. 'Uh, yes, um, sorry… hello again.'

'Miss saved us from the Wicked Witch of the East, so Miss gets these shoes now.' One held up the sparkling ruby slippers.

Hermione looked at them strangely. 'Um, thank you,' she mumbled, unsure of what to do with them. 'Tell me then, we're actually in Oz , are we?'

'Yes, Miss,' the small elf answered, and the other nodded in solemn agreement. 'We are being in Oz, and Miss frees us from the Wicked Witch of the East!'

'And Miss must wear the shoes,' the tall one added with urgency, nodding to the pair of shoes Hermione gingerly held in her hand.

Draco, meanwhile, had been earnestly taking in their surroundings. He pointed to the cottage at the other end of the clearing.

'You know, Granger, we should see if they've got a fireplace. Maybe we can Floo out.'

'I don't think so,' Hermione said slowly.

'Don't see you bringing up any other ideas!' he sniped, parroting her earlier statement, and resolutely strode over to the tiny brick house. Hermione snapped her mouth shut. She shrugged excusably at the elves and hurried after him, the pair of red shoes still in hand.

The cottage was, in every sense of the word, petite. There were miniature stools, tables, beds, and bookcases; a tiny kitchen, and on the far side of the wall there even was –

'A fireplace! Excellent!' Draco exclaimed triumphantly.

In long strides, he crossed the room. Feeling the stone-frame for something akin to Floo-powder, he soon found something, glittery and grey.

'Ha!'

He grabbed a handful of it.

'Draco, wait, I don't think–' was all Hermione managed to get out before he threw the black powder into the flames. There was a BANG! and a flash, and he was thrown back in the room, sparks flying.

Hermione rushed over to help him up.

'What the bleeding fuck was that ?' he coughed and choked. His face was ash-stained, and smoke was spiralling from his clothes.

'Um… some kind of gunpowder, it would seem.' She desperately tried to swallow the giggles that threatened to burst out. That would definitely not amuse the miserable looking, soot-covered Malfoy lying on the filthy floor.

She flicked her wand and vanished most of the dirt. 'All right then. Apparently, Flooing is not an option either.'

Draco shot her a dirty look. 'Apparently,' he repeated nastily.

'I wonder though…' Hermione looked at the ruby slippers in her hand.

Draco turned to Hermione. 'What now?'

Hermione worried her lip and glanced thoughtfully at the house-elves. 'In the story, Dorothy eventually goes home through the power of the magic shoes.'

Draco scoffed. 'You're joking right?'

'No, I'm not,' she retorted.

'The shoes are a portkey, is that what you're saying?'

Hermione shrugged. 'It's certainly a possibility.'

'But it's a story! A Muggle story!'

'I think we're at a point where we would want to try every option, wouldn't you agree?' Hermione said sternly.

Draco grumbled a barely audible sentiment of approval.

'I'm just going to put them on then.'

'Just do it, Granger.'

'You will have to take my hand, though. You wouldn't want to be left behind, would you?'

Hermione sat down on the floor and pulled off her trainers. With a tip of her wand and a Diminuendo , she shrunk and pocketed them.

Draco stared at her. 'That's a third-year charm,' he said flatly, his eyebrows twitching.

Hermione simply shrugged again and slipped into her new pair of shoes. They fit her perfectly, and even though she generally did not care for girly things, she had to suppress a sudden urge to twirl to see her feet glitter and sparkle.

She gestured for Draco to take her hand. He tentatively extended his left and held onto her with the limpest grip possible.

'Gosh, don't exert yourself.' Hermione rolled her eyes.

She considered the shoes for a moment, her brows knitted.

Then she knocked the heels together three times.

Click, Click, Click.

Nothing happened.

'Granger, nothing's happening,' Draco groused and tried to pull his hand away. Hermione didn't respond. Instead, she held onto him a little tighter. She tried again.

Click, Click, Click.

But again, nothing happened.

'This is bad. It seems we need to find another solution.' She worried her lip again. The shoes were the thing that had brought Dorothy back to Kansas. So, why wouldn't it work now?

Draco yanked his hand away. He made a show of wiping it on his trousers. Hermione rolled her eyes. 'You're such a child , Malfoy.'

'Yeah. Because you're such an adult, Granger.'

Hermione huffed and held her nose in the air. 'Well, I am the older one, after all, and, apparently, I am also the more mature one. So. I think it's rather superfluous to insult each other in a situation as strenuous as this – don't you agree?'

Draco turned away, and folded his arms, scowling at the soot-stained floor — the remnants of his earlier accident. In the background, the elves were busy cleaning the mess. Hermione also turned around and opened her mouth as if to say something to him, but then, upon noticing the house-elves, she just stared at them for a moment.

'Umm… excuse me,' she addressed the elves shyly. They instantly shot to her side, and eyed her through large, yellow, adoring eyes. 'If we're in Oz, and there is also the Wizard, does he also live in Emerald City?'

'Yes, yes!' The pair nodded enthusiastically. 'Miss is right!'

Hermione turned to the sour-looking Draco. 'I think I know how we may get out,' she said, 'We need to get to Emerald City and find the Wizard of Oz. He has a hot-air-balloon that will get us out of here!'

'A what ?'

'It's a Muggle form of transportation. That's what I've tried to tell you earlier, it's all part of this Muggle story, and–'

'Okay,' he interrupted, his expression still sour. 'And how do we get to this Emerald City?'

'Let's find out, shall we?' she said and walked out of the cottage.

Draco diligently followed her out, to where she stood next to the cottage. And there, a yellow brick road disappeared into the woods.

'Look!' Hermione exclaimed excitedly. 'That's how!'

They had been walking for quite some time through the woods which were gloomy and mysterious and eerily reminiscent of the Forbidden Forest. A while back, Hermione had made an attempt at a joke about that time when they had served detention there in May. But when Draco responded in his usual unpleasant manner, she snapped her mouth shut, fixing her eyes on the yellow bricks stretching out in front of them, hopefully mapping out their way back home.

Every now and then, strange noises echoed through the thicket which had them quickening their pace. Other times, they felt pairs of glowing, silver eyes following them through the impermeable foliage. This made it impossible to determine the sun's position. They also had tried to find out how late it was with magic, but the Tempus spell had continuously proven to be ineffective.

'Why would some spells work while others don't? That doesn't make any sense,' Draco said exasperatedly, his voice a little whiny. Apparently, his curiosity had overruled his snottiness and he was talking to Hermione again.

'That's a very good question,' Hermione said slowly, frowning. When she didn't elaborate, Draco stared at her.

'What's the matter, Granger?' he said sneering, 'It's not like you to pass an opportunity to flaunt your knowledge.'

Hermione huffed. 'Because I prefer to think before uttering useless nonsense,' she retorted shortly. 'And must you also be so whiny? You're twelve, not a child.' She lifted her nose in the air and marched on, quickening her pace.

Draco snapped his mouth shut, abruptly coming to a halt. After a second, he jumped into action to follow her, matching her strides, and they both fell into a competitive pace, both trying to out-stride each other without actually falling into a run.

The shining path twisted through the thicket, and, after a while, they caught glimpses of the blue summer sky. Those little specks of light danced over odd, outrageously shaped plants with the most intense colouring. Some looked bulbous and odd like a Pritcher's Porritch; others had a deep purple colouring resembling Bouncing Bulbs, contrasted by bright copper tones of something similar to Niffler's Fancy; again others had the soft warm tones, of red, yellow and pink characteristic for Puffapods and nasturtium. This offered them a welcome opportunity to stop and stare and, ultimately, slow down. Even though they still weren't talking, they were both trying to hide that they were extremely short of breath.

'I have a theory...' Hermione said suddenly as a Puffapod-like plant exploded, raining beans all over the thicket. Draco perked up. 'I think we can only use magic that is part of the story. Every spell that exists in this world, we can cast, anything else, we can't.' She chewed on her lip. 'I also think that the laws of space and time worked differently here, and that could be another reason why the Tempus spell didn't work.'

Draco stared ahead, frowning slightly.

'So,' Hermione continued, 'if all the places here are restricted to the places described in the Wonderful Wizard of Oz , that could mean there is also a fixed time-frame.'

Draco looked up, the unspoken question apparent on his face.

'I mean… there is no before and after in this world, there's only the time the author has invented for the story.'

They watched as a few ejected Puffapod beans bounced onto the brick road and instantly burst into bloom, adorning the shining gold with pretty pink and purple flowers.

'You wanted to tell me about the book earlier,' Draco said abruptly a little while later.

' The Wonderful Wizard of Oz ?' Hermione looked at him in surprise.

'Now's as good a time as any to bore me with all the details, isn't it.' His usual drawl was back but without the former malice.

'Alright,' she said, chewing on her lower lip. 'I've already told you about the beginning. How Dorothy and her dog Toto were swept from Kansas to Oz, how she accidentally killed the Wicked Witch of the East, and how she travelled to the Emerald City to implore the Great Wizard to help her get home.'

Hermione was pleased to see that Draco couldn't seem to hide his curiosity. 'Well then. Along the way she meets three creatures. They all have a problem of their own they need the Great Wizard's help for: the Tin Woodman wants a heart, the cowardly Lion seeks courage, and the Scarecrow desires a brain. So they decide to go to the city together. Along their way, they fall into all sorts of adventures which, incidentally show that they all have the things they desire already, without them even noticing.' Hermione chuckled, remembering how painfully obvious this plot twist was in her opinion. Draco looked at her, brows furrowed, and she sobered. 'Anyway. When they finally arrive at Emerald City, Dorothy discovers that the powerful Wizard is no wizard at all, but an ordinary man who got lost in Oz just like her! So they make plans to go back in his hot air balloon–'

'His what ?'

'I've told you before. It's a Muggle form of aerial transportation,' Hermione said exasperatedly. 'Anyway. They plan to fly back home, but then something goes terribly wrong, and the Great Wizard leaves without Dorothy and Toto.'

'Who?'

'The dog.'

'Right,' Draco said, his face scrunched up. 'So how do they get back then?'

Hermione smiled. 'In the end, Dorothy discovers that the shoes she took from the Wicked Witch of the East were able to bring her back all along.'

'Ah. That's what we've tried earlier.'

'Precisely.'

'But the story still seems pretty convoluted,' Malfoy mumbled, glancing at Hermione's feet.

'Well, it is quite popular in the Muggle world,' Hermione said. 'One of the most important elements is Dorothy realising that "there is no place like home".'

Draco snorted derisively. 'How trite.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Maybe, but I think that with us being stranded who-knows-where, the message rings truer than ever.'

Draco carefully studied the horizon. His sneer was still in place but it seemed considerably contradicted by his hanging shoulders. 'I suppose so,' he said after a while.

'Every great story is popular because it resonates with a lot of people,' Hermione said, pursing her lips. 'It's quite interesting though that that particular bit, "there's no place like home", is from a film adaptation from 1939.'

Draco frowned, so Hermione briefly explained the concept of movies to him, and that she had watched that film with her parents over and over when she was little.

'But then there are books, and that's a whole other level,' she continued, talking excitedly, her cheeks flushed bright pink. 'Apparently, there was even some discussion if the author, Frank Baum, might have addressed aspects of the American economy of the late–'

Draco raised his eyebrows, though there might have been just the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. It was hard to tell in the gloomy light.

'Right. Nevermind.' Hermione chuckled awkwardly.

Gradually, almost without them noticing, the dark, impenetrable green of the thicket had grown into lighter, vibrant shades of green. Similarly, the low hanging branches had grown slimmer, smaller. The grass, too, seemed softer and lighter, and the meadows in-between the trees were prettily decorated with the spots of yellow and white of daisies and sneezeworts.

They were approaching the edge of the woods.

'I wonder…,' Hermione said suddenly and Draco, who had been observing a squirrel jumping from branch to branch, following them, turned his head to face her. 'It's curious that, just like in the story, here we are, two people transported to Oz.'

Draco knitted his brows. 'Not quite. Wasn't it a girl and her pet? So there's a difference.'

'Are you sure? A girl with an animal. An animal with a name ending on an "o".' She looked at Draco, smirking slightly. 'Seems pretty close, don't you think?' She laughed so hard her hair was almost dancing around her head. Draco scowled, though it seemed rather half-hearted compared to earlier, and his cheeks had a pinkish tint to them. The squirrel, too, appeared to be chuckling as it bounced up and down, until it almost fell off its branch. Draco couldn't help but laugh.

'I wonder if we will meet any of the other protagonists,' he said after both had caught their breaths.

'Likely not a matter of if , but when. Look!' In the distance, there was a faint golden glow shimmering beneath the blue horizon. 'That could very well be the fields of corn where Dorothy and Toto, or rather Hermione and Draco,' she grinned at him who hid his blush behind a scowl, 'meet the scarecrow.'

Author's note: Thank you for reading! This story was completed for the Hermione Big Bang fest and was first posted to AO3. I'll be doing weekly updates. If you're impatient, feel free to jump over to the archive where a lot more chapters are already posted. This story also comes with a photo essay, which is an added bonus to reading on AO3. But wherever you do - thank you for reading at all! Cheers, Lynx xx