Title: Dream, A VD Tale
Author: Tsubasa Kya
Disclaimer: No ownership.

This is a piece I wrote in response to curiosity from readers, and then found that it didn't quite fit as-is in my story line. As the story itself unfolds I may be pulling and altering information from it, though it should stay basically the same. I'm posting it for those readers who don't want to wait...

It was another dream. She knew it was just a dream, but she couldn't wake herself up. She was back at home in this dream, and she was four years old again. She was at the train station, kissing her mother, father, and grandfather goodbye. She wasn't going to see her family again for ten months; she didn't want to leave.

"Wheddif I won't make any fwends?" four-year-old Kagome asked, her lip wobbling. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. "Wheddif the teachers won't like me?" she continued as her parents smiled down at her. "Wheddif—"

Her father chuckled and knelt to her level, enveloping her in a warm hug. The tears that threatened to spill did just that and her father's well-worn jacket got a little wet from the salt water. "What if the sun stopped shining?" her father asked her suddenly. "What if some menace tried to take over the world?" Kagome sniffled as her father asked her 'what if' questions. "We do what we can, love… we do what we can, and everything else, we just take it as it comes and deal with it then. I need you to be my strong little girl. You remember what I said about an education?"

Kagome nodded, squeezed her father in a tight bear hug, and then pulled away from him. "I love you, papa," she told him.

"I love you too, love," her father assured her, smoothing her hair and kissing her forehead. "Your mother and I will visit you during Parent-Teacher Conference Day, so do really well and show everyone what you're made of. Just promise me you'll watch your temper?"

The scene blurred as dreams do, and then Kagome was on the train, watching her waving parents disappear. She heard someone struggling with something heavy, so she climbed down off her seat, even though she was instructed to stay seated at all times. The woman who was supposed to be watching Kagome's cabin and anyone who chose to sit in it had gone off rather irresponsibly with an older man.

The woman had probably figured since Kagome was the only one in the cabin and hadn't moved an inch for ten minutes, she could get away with leaving for a while. But Kagome was only four; she was a fairly well-behaved four-year-old—her parents would have it no other way—but she still was prone to bouts of curiosity.

She walked to the cabin door and struggled to reach the door handle. She couldn't. She was too short. She looked around for some sort of method to reach the handle and realized if she stood on the edge of the seat and leaned, she could probably get the handle and push the door open. It worked, except at the last second she slipped off the seat and in the fall she hit her head on the seat opposite her.

"Owie," she whined, holding her head as more tears blurred her vision.

A pale skinned face entered her blurry sight. She sniffled and looked at the child in front of her. He had curly white-blond hair and an angled face. "Can I sit in your cabin?" he asked her, his iceberg gray eyes glancing at her in a way that made her feel like he thought he was better than her.

She looked at the boy with an angry expression. "I just got hurt and you won't even ask if I'm okay?"

"Well, you are not dead, so I had no reason to believe you were not okay," was the boy's response.

"That's so mean!" Kagome stated. "My head hurts!" she rubbed the lump and winced when it seemed to hurt more because of her action.

"That is not my problem," he said, smiling as if he owned the world. Then he asked, "Can I sit in your cabin?" Kagome glared at him and stood up. He stood up too, and she shoved him at the open doorway. He tumbled into the corridor and bumped his head on the floor. He quickly sat up. "Owie!" he yelped, "That hurt! What did you do that for? My head hurts!"

"It ain't my problem you don't have a cabin and it ain't my problem your head hurts!" she shouted at him, turning his words right back at him. "You're supposed to stay in the cabin your parents put you in!" she breathed a bit heavily.

The boy glared at her with damp eyes as he rubbed the lump on the back of his head. "My father did not help me into a cabin. He said he had to get to Knockturn Alley by the end of the day to pick up his new shipment. If he had helped me, I would have stayed!"

"Well, you stay in the hall 'cause see if I care!" Kagome told him and began tugging at the door, trying to slide it shut. The boy got to his feet and began pushing on the door to keep it open.

"I have to sit down and you will let me sit in here!" he yelled.

Kagome shoved at him and then tried to close the door again. "Sit in the hall! B'cause I ain't letting a mean-pants like you sit where I sit!"

He shoved her back and soon it wasn't a fight over the door, but it was a fight between the two as they shoved and kicked and hit at each other. The noise they made attracted an attendant from another cabin and the image blurred and morphed into something else.

She wasn't four anymore. She was eight. She was on the train again, alone in a cabin with Draco. His curly hair had begun to lose its childish curl over the year. She had the impression the curls would be completely gone at the end of the summer. They both sat in the window seats. He stared adamantly out the window, as if hoping doing so would melt the glass and free him from the prison they were both currently in.

He was quiet for a long time, simply attempting to ignore her. She could not ignore him. "Why don't your parents help you on or off the train?"

He answered her with a question. "Why do you always choose to sit in an empty cabin instead of surrounding yourself by your friends?"

She glared at him. "Just b'cause!" she said, "And it ain't your business!"

"Exactly," he said and fell silent again.

The scene transformed again; she was nine now, sitting on a bench at the train station, swinging her legs back and forth as she waited for her father to come pick her up. Her little brother was two, so her mother stayed home with him and her grandfather, giving Kagome a bit of special time with her father. Her father was usually on time, but not today. Today he was late.

"Well, well… look who is still at the train station," Draco's voice came from behind her. She whirled around so fast her head spun for a moment. She quickly regained her bearings and glared at the boy. "It does not seem like you have luck with families. What is this, your fifth one?" He smirked to himself, as if knowing her anger was skyrocketing. "It is no wonder they finally gained their senses and gave you up… you are a filthy, dirty little mudblood whelp."

"Shut up, Malfoy," she snapped disrespectfully. "My family didn't give me up! Papa just forgot, that's all! He will be here, you will see!"

"Can you not see? If your supposed parents really wanted you, they would be here on time. They would not leave you here alone while the sun sets and the platform grows dark. They would not leave you outside like this when the darkness can hold anything in its embrace and not tell you." He glared at her with narrowed eyes. "You are not wanted. You know you are not wanted."

Her temper reached its peak. "What about you, Malfoy?" she sneered at him, "I don't see your family. Though I ain't finding myself surprised at them for hating you." She watched as he walked around the bench and then glared at him suspiciously as he took a seat beside her. "What're you up to?" she demanded.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked her in disgust. "I was not aware I had to have an ulterior motive to sit on a bench, but I will be sure to keep that in mind for future reference."

She sighed in exasperation. "There are other benches!" she pointed out.

"None of the other benches have a person seated at it."

It was all he said, but it didn't take her much to figure out what he was saying. "You're afraid of the dark," she said in surprise. The sun set and he did not respond, but she could see by the light from the train platform that his whole body was tense. His jaw was clenched so tight she wondered if he might break a tooth, and his eyes searched the darkness beyond the light for something—anything—that might be out of the ordinary.

The dream changed again, but not very much. It was light out now, and she was waking up on the bench at the train platform. She wasn't sure when it happened, but her nine-year-old rival had let her curl up against him during the cold night. They were covered up with a very familiar old jacket. Draco woke up when Kagome moved away from him and immediately reached full alertness when he saw who he'd cuddled with.

Kagome glanced around for her father. "Papa?" Kagome called to the barren outdoor train platform. The tracks were specifically for the school train, so no other trains visited the platform. It was very strange to be alone in the station but for Draco.

"Give it up," Draco smirked as if he'd been right. "Like they gave you up, just give up."

"You're wrong!" Kagome told the boy. "This is papa's jacket. He has to be here!" She climbed off the bench and her father's coat fell to the ground. She cupped her hands around her mouth and called out, "Papa?" Her voice came back as an echo on the tracks. "Papa, where are you?"

"He is not here! Stop screaming for someone who will never come!" Draco yelled at her. He walked up to her and glared at her with hate in his eyes. "Figure it out! He hates you! He will never be there for you! You can only rely on yourself, because you are all you will ever have!"

Draco's eyes were nearly glowing with his hatred and frustration, while Kagome's eyes glowed with the tears she tried desperately to keep in. A moment later, there was a very loud crack and a lovely blond woman appeared.

"Dee-dee, my sweet darling!" she said and rushed toward Draco. Kagome was able to see Draco's eyes become uncharacteristically moist before he turned toward the woman and went over to her. "It is time to go home."

Kagome sniffed, and the barricade broke. Tears flowed freely down her face. She raced away from Draco and who she assumed was his mother. There was another morphing of the dream, and she was in a funeral home, staring at a closed casket. She couldn't even muster up the tears to weep. She simply felt numb. Her father had come for her at the train station as she had known he would all along.

Something had happened, Kagome didn't know what, but something happened while she and Draco slept. Her father had been found dead not far from the train station.

She stared at the red roses in the arrangement on his casket, reaching out and grasping one of the lush flowers, tugging it free. Her eyes closed lightly and she brought the rose to her face, breathing in the scent, hoping if she breathed deep enough, she might smell her father's musky scent. She couldn't. The scent just wasn't there.

Kagome opened her eyes and looked up. Draco stood over her. They were ten, and once more on the train. They were heading to their final year at Primary School. "Thank you for the flower," she said to him. "But… why? We do not like each other."

"I know," he said and he took his usual seat across from her. She still had no idea why he sat in her cabin every train ride. He knew she wanted to be alone, but ever since the first train ride, he'd decided he would sit by her. It didn't ever bode well; they always got into fights on the train.

"Then what is this flower for? I do not like roses all that much," she informed him. For the moment they were at least not trying to harm the other. She couldn't really imagine how things were going to be when they were in Secondary School and started learning to actually do magic and got their wands.

He sighed and looked at her with his penetrating gray stare. "I know you do not," he said.

She felt her temper rising. It was his stone stare and his tone of voice that did it. "Then why would you, a stupid inbred brat, give me a flower?! Answer me!" She threw the flower at him. She didn't want anything from him, unless it was a free opportunity to sock him in the nose.

He looked back at the window, and his voice became so soft she had to lean forward and strain to hear him. "My father told me you did not cry. At your father's funeral, I mean…"

She felt her heart as a lump in her throat, but swallowed it. She hadn't cried since she ran away from Draco at the beginning of the summer. She didn't cry when she found out her father was dead. She didn't cry when she was at the funeral. She didn't cry after it. And though she felt sad now, she still had dry eyes.

"No, I did not," she admitted and looked out the window. She had heard whispers about her at the funeral. 'There must be something wrong with a child who will not cry,' and 'The child is not normal. If I were the Higurashi's, I would not have taken her in,' and 'She must be a demon; she probably killed Mr. Higurashi.'

"I do not believe I would cry at my father's funeral either." Draco told her. It seemed almost spontaneously said, but that was when the tears—pent up after two months—finally broke free. She buried her head in her hands and wept openly until she had no more tears left. When she calmed, she found Draco giving her a queer look. "Well, what do you know? The mudblood does feel."

She desperately wanted for the subject to be changed. She was too tired for their usual exchange, and they were nearly to the school. She quickly asked, "Malfoy, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

He turned to stare out the window. She thought he would not answer. It wouldn't have bothered her if he didn't. Except he did, and his answer bothered her. "Alive." It was all he said in response, and it confused her. He returned the question, "What do you want to be?"

"It was not a trick question," she informed him. "I am curious."

"And I told you what I wish to be. Now it is your turn."

She sighed. "I always wondered why you never made friends, but I suppose I should just remember your sparkling personality and get my answer that way." She leaned her head against the window, wiping at her red face with her sleeve.

"I did not make friends because I saw no purpose in associating with those who are beneath me." She hadn't been aware a ten-year-old could be so pompous. He was good at proving her wrong. "It will not matter; one year from now I shall be starting my first year of Secondary School at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Kagome's eyes flitted open as the dream finally released her. She was back in Hogwarts.

This is a piece I wrote in response to curiosity from readers, and then found that it didn't quite fit as-is in my story line. As the story itself unfolds I may be pulling and altering information from it, though it should stay basically the same. I'm posting it for those readers who don't want to wait...