Draco Malfoy had never felt more alone in his life as he sat, his head on his knees, in the cold, dark cave. He lifted his head and looked at the sleeping figure beside him. It's been eight hours and Hermione Granger still hasn't woken up.

The sun was starting to set and soon he wouldn't be able to see. The little boy stood up, his pajamas and sweater now drenched in dirt, as he walked over to the mess that he made when he was trying to get the potion. He went to search for something that would make his night more tolerable.

The first thing he got was a sweater. Along with the things Hermione had packed for him was the Weasley sweater that Molly gave him despite it not being Christmas. Draco pulled the green knit over his head and patted the D that was stitched on the front.

Next he went to search for something to eat but was frustrated when he was faced with canned food—something he wasn't entirely sure about. He never had canned food back home so he didn't know exactly what they were. He wrinkled his nose and put it back down. It was in the middle of searching for something else to eat did he come across an interesting book. Survival 101, it read.

"Survival?" Draco asked himself as he reached for the book, "Survival for what?"

The little boy walked to the edge of the cave as he began to read using the remaining light of the sunset. A dense forest sat in front of him. "Muggles are so silly. Why would they want to live outside if they already have a house?"

The Slytherin forgot his hunger momentarily as he giggled at what he was reading. He was about to put the book down when something caught his attention: How to make a fire. Draco frowned at what he read, "Rub two sticks together?" Somehow he doubted that'd work. He closed the book and looked back into the dark cave, "I guess I'll try it. What do I have to lose?" And with that the Slytherin marched back into the cave and went right to work.

He started with gathering materials, which consisted of sticks, stones and dried leaves. At first he just carried whatever fit into his hand as he went back and forth from the cave. But it was taking him too long so he grabbed the now empty extendable bag and started dumping his finds in it—this was the easy part he soon realized.

Draco found out how hard it was to be a muggle and he vowed never to live like one—although he wasn't quite sure if that was the real lesson behind this. He had already built the makeshift fire pit and was now furiously rubbing the two sticks together. Come on, light up you stupid stick!" The four-year-old thought furiously as his little hands worked as hard it could.

He dropped the sticks in frustration as he felt their rough skin scratch his hands. He looked at them frowning at the blisters that were forming. He rubbed them together, it was getting cold and he was not about to let Hermione sleep through that kind of discomfort. He picked up the sticks and started his fire-making again. Come on, come on, come on!

Suddenly a tiny orange spark appeared and a thin wisp of smoke rose out of it. Draco quickly leaned down and blew on the spark trying to make fire spread and soon the pit was burning, illuminating the entire cave. The four-year-old jumped for joy and kissed the muggle book, Thank you!"

"Hermione look I made a fire!" Draco whirled around to face the Gryffindor. His smile disappeared as he remembered the state she was in.

Sighing, he grabbed one of Hermione's clean sweaters and placed it over his guardian. He then proceeded to lie down beside her, resting his cheek on her heart. He was too exhausted to eat now even if there was something edible in the Gryffindor's bag. He decided he would go find something to eat tomorrow, but for now he contented himself with Hermione's warmth as he let her heartbeat lull him to sleep.

xxx

The next day Draco woke up to disappointment as he found the witch still sleeping but he couldn't sulk for long because hunger took over his body. The fire had gone out and he would have to restart it later but for now he decided to take the book again and look up for what he could eat.

He decided fruit would be the easiest to get—and the least gross, He thought with a shudder. He had skipped an entire chapter about killing rabbits and deer for food. . He ventured as far out of the cave as he dared comparing the trees and plants he saw to the book. He finally stopped in front the tree whose boughs were bowing by the weight of its fruits. The book had said that those were *mangoes. He looked up and gulped. Do I have to climb that?

Draco slung the bag around his shoulders and approached the tree with determination. It wasn't impossible to climb as it was pretty low but Draco was only four and had never had experience doing anything so muggle. He took a running start and the jumped and clung to the tree, his arms and legs wrapping around it only to fall back on the ground. He stood up and hoisted himself again, this time getting a better grip. He grunted and groaned as he tried to pull himself up. His exposed skin scratching against the bark, leaving tiny cuts.

He landed on his bum with a soft thud once more. He looked up forlornly at the tree. He laid on his back as he stared up at the fruits that were too hard to reach. Please Wizard God, If you give me one fruit today I won't be mean to Dobby ever again. The four-year-old waited for a sign that his "god" had heard him but the fruits stayed where it was—far away from him. Suddenly a furry rabbit hops his way to Draco and rests just a few inches away from his head. Draco propped himself up on his elbows to look at the creature.

"I could always eat you" He talked to the animal. The rabbit's ears perked up as it looked at the wizard. Draco sighed because he knew there was no way he was going to eat a rabbit—even if he was really hungry. And with that the little boy stood up once again, preparing for another attempt up the tree. It was either get up there or die of starvation. I miss my house elf. The four year old thought miserably as he hoisted himself up to the lowest branch.

It took him a whole day to get up there. Draco laughed at his victory as he proceeded to pluck out the yellow fruit and dumping it in his bag. When he was done he secured the bag shut and patted it. "Well that was easy," he thought to himself as he looked down, "Now…how to get down from here"

xxx

Draco aligned the fruit carefully on the ground and counted seven. He picked up one and stared at it.

"Well how am I supposed to eat this?" he wondered out loud in frustration. He had remembered his mother feeding him this but when she gave it, it was already sliced up into perfect little cubes on a plate. He brought it to his lips and licked the skin. His face scrunched up in disgust and he rubbed his tongue on his sleeve. "Maybe if I get this gross thing off"

Draco's fingers started to dig through the soft skin of the fruit. He smiled as the fruit's sweet juice flowed out of it and caught it with his mouth. His stomach seemed pleased. He quickly shredded the rest of the skin off and bit into the soft flesh of the fruit. He was eating like, what his mother would call, an undignified slob, but he didn't care. He only cared that he was hungry and that he finally had something to eat. He ate about three and decided to save the rest for some other time.

After licking all his fingers he threw the fruit remains in the fire and huddled beside Hermione once more.

xxx

Hermione woke up in a cave. It was dark outside. The only light in there was the soft, orange glow the fire made. Where am I? She felt quite peaceful in this state until her memory came flooding in. She moved her body and she felt something on top of her stir.

"Hermione!" a boy cried, "you're awake"

Hermione winced as she tried to sit herself up with Draco's weight on her. Her muscles were still sore from when she fell over running away from the death eaters.

"Oh Draco, I'm sorry for frightening you" She enclosed the young boy in her arms, "Shh, it's alright now. I'm here"

The little boy began to cry, "I didn't know what to do Hermione! I had to rub sticks and climb trees and all I've eaten are fruits.

"What on earth is he talking about?" The Gryffindor thought, "Rub sticks? Climb trees?"

"Draco, I need you to calm down and tell me exactly what happened" Hermione said firmly grasping his shoulders.

"Well," The four year-old answered, "You were sleeping for three days and-"

"Three days?!" Hermione exclaimed

The Slytherin nodded at her, "And I had to make fire out of rubbing two sticks, climb a tree to find food, I have cuts on my hand and face, this sweater is itchy and I just want to go home"

The Gryffindor smiled at the sweater that Draco opted to wear and then frowned in confusion when she just realized what the boy had said.

"You climbed a tree and made a fire?" Hermione asked incredulously, "Where'd you learn how to do that?"

"I read it," Draco said sniffing, "In your muggle book"

Hermione raised her eyebrow at the Slytherin as she tried to imagine him gallivanting around the forest the nice old-fashioned muggle way. Before she could stop herself, she burst out laughing.

"Why are you laughing at me," The boy wailed miserably, becoming visibly upset

"Oh I'm sorry Draco," Hermione cooed, "I just remembered something"

The four-year-old was not pleased.

"You must be the smartest little boy I know," Hermione finished.

That seemed to brighten the Slytherin up as he beamed at her, "That's what my mother always tells me"

"Oh I'm sure she does" Hermione rolled her eyes inside her head

The two fell into silence.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Draco?"

"What are we going to do now?"

The Gryffindor remained silent then she stood up and whipped out her wand. She transfigured the dirty sweaters into blankets and turned them into the forts she would make for Draco. The little boy's face brightened with recognition as they both settled themselves in it, "We wait. Remember what Tonks' said? We wait"

She felt Draco nod.

"Draco, when did you learn how to use healing potions like that?" Hermione asked remembering how Draco successfully administered dittany on her.

The boy shrugged up at her, "I used to heal mother a lot. Father hurts her sometimes. She used the same potion. I just didn't know it was called that. But I know what it is when I see it."

In all their time together Draco hadn't said much about his parents and whenever he did it's always mother, this and mother, that. Now that he has, the Gryffindor was left wanting to know more about how they had been like in Draco's four-year-old memories.

"Did he ever hurt you?"

"No, he just yelled at me a lot. I think he hates me"

"Why do you think that?"

"He says I can't do anything right. He says I can't even hate muggles properly. I just don't understand what's so wrong with them sometimes but I just agree with father because I don't want him to hate me.

Hermione frowned and remained silent and the four-year-old continued on.

"But father wasn't always like that. I can still remember when I was three and he would play with me all the time and take me out for ice cream," the Slytherin said, "But then one day his scar started hurting again"

"His scar?" Hermione said as he thought about a certain scar that plagued her best friend's life.

"A big ugly snake on his left arm" Draco said with disgust, "After that he started being mean to us. He told me to grow up and be a man. I told him I was trying but I'm only four you see. Then mother tries to talk to him but he hits her instead. But mother says not to be angry and that father was only doing that because he was afraid"

"What was he so afraid of?" Hermione asked softly even though she knew the answer to that. When you-know-who disappeared, the death eaters knew that he wasn't gone.

For some reason their scars still tingled. It wasn't until three years later when there had been reports from Azkaban saying that Bellatrix LeStrange was declaring that she had to leave because the Dark Lord was calling. Hermione later figured it had to be around that time when You-Know-Who was trying to look for a host to latch himself onto. She guessed none of his death eaters came for him because he ended up with Professor Quirell instead.

"Mummy says that one day a bad man would come to us. And Father is afraid that he'll take us away"

Hermione rested her cheek on his head.

She was beginning to understand the burden of the pureblood. And although she can't quite figure out Lucius right now, she came to terms with Draco. He was caught between the choices that his father and society made for him-a choice whose consequences he had to bear. He was branded a death eater the minute he was born. It made sense, Hermione decided grudgingly, that Lucius brainwashed him to hate anything less than a pureblood to fit the role perfectly.

But still, Hermione thought, What kind of sick, twisted person would instill hate on a child?

"Hermione. Do you think I can be brave like Harry and Ron?"

"You already are. You're bravest little boy I have ever met and I can't thank you enough for saving me" Hermione said kissing his forehead

Draco smiled up at her and buried his head in the crook of her neck, "I love you Hermione"

Now to a four year old those three words might have meant the way sons loved their mothers—the kind of love a normal four-year-old knew about.

But as the golden girl replied, "I love you too, Draco." She wasn't sure if she had meant it the same way he had. Her heart grew heavy as she thought about the day that he would have to be turned back into the seventeen year old Slytherin. Would he still remember me? Would he still even like me?

A/N: *I know there aren't mango trees in European forests. I just needed a fruit that grew on trees, I love mangos, and I just watched the "Bear Necessities" scene from Jungle Book again when I wrote that part.

Hoped you enjoyed this chapter! This is the last chapter where the four-year-old Draco Malfoy will be mentioned in such detail—just needed to solidify his character one last time. (You know, because he's turning back soon—which I am dreading to write about.)

Bonus info: The next chapter is actually where this story finally catches up with the events of the seventh book, so yay. Finally made it. After six chapters.

So anyway, this is me saying goodbye for...a week? two weeks? My conscience is telling me to stop procrastinating and start doing my projects...I hate my conscience sometimes.