Draco reluctantly tried to put the squirming four year old to bed, but that proved harder than catching the Snitch at a windy Quidditch match as the Mudblood struggled to get away from his grasp while screaming bloody murder. In her own childlike frustration, she ended up biting him on the arm to make her point clear. Draco briefly entertained the idea of killing himself, or even provoking Potter to end his miserable life. However, considering all the trouble he went through to the Order in the first place, Draco opted for dealing with this momentary torture until he could find a loophole, a remedy, or a way to get out of babysitting the toddler.
After struggling with the toddler for a good amount of time, and tending to his wound, Draco gave up and stomped out of the room trying to contain his anger towards the Mudblood. He knew that if he laid a finger on the chit, he would surely meet his death at the hands of the Weasel. Instead, the young Slytherin decided to research their failed potion.
Unfortunately, the Mudblood followed him to the library. Once inside, he mutely handed her some spare parchment and a quill to entertain herself.
The faster I find a cure, the less time I have to babysit the Mudblood, he thought, throwing the toddler a menacing glare; she was now babbling away in a corner of the room, scribbling like mad over her parchment.
After several hours of searching, and taking care of a surprisingly docile Granger, he found five potions books that seemed promising. The first book was an exact copy of the potions books that they had been using before it was blown up to shreds in the explosion. Two books contained information on Dark Arts potions; another book was dedicated solely to the ingredients used in potions including their magical properties, whilst the last book was on Advanced Potion-Making. He considered continuing his research but a grumpy mini-Mudblood had declared that she was ‘hungwy’ from her corner of the room ten minutes ago. Draco had ignored her for several minutes until he felt her presence by his side.
“Fewat, I’m hungwy! Mum Weazy said you would feed me,” she whined while irritatingly bouncing up and down.
“Fine, come on. Let’s go down to that poor excuse of a kitchen, and see what we can eat,” said Draco, leaving his research on the table he had been working all morning. As he made his way to the door, Draco realized that he had not heard the tiny footsteps of Granger following him. Hesitantly, he turned around and glared at the toddler who was chewing on her bottom lip.
“Well, Mud-Granger? Aren’t you hungry?”
“Cawy me!”
Draco raised an incredulous eyebrow at the insolent toddler.
“Carry you?” he scoffed in disbelief, yet managing to smirk for the first time that day.
The little girl nodded.
“I will not carry you, Mud-Granger.”
The chit scrounged her face in anger, a prominent pout that quivered with an imminent outburst.
“Granger, I already told you that temper tantrums don’t work on me. So just quit it. Now, follow me down to the kitchen because I will not carry you today, or tomorrow, or ever,” he spat, turning his back on the toddler to walk down to lunch by himself.
He took on tentative step towards the hallway when the shrill-like banshee scream of Granger made its way to his eardrums and had him grinding his teeth.
“Cawy me, Fewat! Now!”
“No!” he answered stubbornly, turning around to face a red-faced four year old.
“CAWY ME,” the tiny girl bellowed, stomping her feet, and shaking in anger.
“NO,” he shouted back, covering his ears with his hands in preparation for any further attacks.
However, instead of an attack on his eardrums, he felt small fists pummelling on his stomach. The Mudblood is hitting me, he mused silently, refusing to laugh at the incredulity of the situation.
Sighing in frustration, Draco grabbed the Mudblood’s tiny fists, and stopped their onslaught.
“Fine, Granger, I’ll carry you downstairs, but don’t make a habit of it,” he muttered, tentatively picking her up.
Upon observation, Draco realized that carrying the Mudblood at arms length the entire way down to the kitchen wasn’t the brightest idea he had ever had. His arms were still smarting several hours later. When Mrs. Weasley had seen him walk into the kitchen with Granger dangling from his outstretched arms, he noticed she had tried to hide a smile.
Upon seeing the matronly woman, Granger had squirmed out of his arms, and eagerly ran into her inviting arms. Draco noted how Mrs. Weasley bent at the knees to gingerly pick up the young girl. He made a mental note to copy the behaviour, but he wasn’t pleased with the fact that he would have to cradle the Mudblood on his shoulder if he carried her in the future.
When he inquired about lunch, Mrs. Weasley motioned to the cheese and pickle sandwiches on a table. Draco looked questioningly at the read-head before she said, “Why don’t you grab some dishes from the dresser, Draco. I’ll go prepare some tea, and get some milk for Hermione.”
The young Slytherin slowly made his way to the dresser to retrieve and set the cutlery for the late lunch with his charge. He grabbed a sandwich for himself and one for Granger before sitting down to eat. As he munched on his meal, Granger walked in carrying a glass of milk, followed by Molly Weasley, who was levitating tea. Draco kept eating quietly as Molly set down the tea, and helped the Mudblood into her seat. Draco was drinking his tea when he heard the Mudblood ask, “Fewat, can you cut my sanwich, pweaze?”
Draco’s eye bulged in disbelief, and he opened his mouth to harshly respond to the toddler, but a warning look from Mrs. Weasley stopped him short. Instead, he grabbed the Mudblood’s plate, and proceeded to mutilate her sandwich. He savagely pushed the plate back to the Mudblood, and watched as she picked up one of the pieces and happily popped it in her mouth. To his chagrin, Granger was a messy eater, and she greedily half-chewed her food before swallowing. Draco stared at her atrocious table manners as she spilled milk down her chin.
“Draco don’t you think you should clean her up?” Mrs. Weasley prompted.
The young Slytherin looked scandalized and thoroughly disgusted at the thought, before reaching for the napkin, and wiping the Mudblood’s face clean.
Mrs. Weasley had a smile on her face, and she looked like she was trying hard not to laugh at the situation.
“So, Draco, Hermione tells me you two have been in the library all morning,” Mrs. Weasley began, trying to lighten up the mood.
“I was researching the potion we concocted, Mrs. Weasley,” he drawled. “The sooner I find an antidote, the less I have to baby sit Granger.”
“That sounds splendid. Listen, why don’t you go back upstairs and finish your research. I’ll take Hermione for a couple of hours. She can help me clean up.”
Draco looked suspiciously at the red-headed woman and her generous offer.
“Ok, Mrs. Weasley. I’ll only be about an hour or two more before I come back down and keep her out of your hair,” Draco muttered, pushing his chair back.
Quietly, Draco walked back up the stairs, thinking about how he had actually cleaned the Mudblood, willingly. When he got to the library, Draco decided that he would prefer to read the books he found in his room at night when he couldn’t sleep. He carried the five volumes to his room, and set them down on the night stand next his impossibly tiny bed. Suddenly, he felt rather tired; he had already had a very trying day, and decided to take a short nap before going back downstairs for the Mudblood. He deserved it he rationalized, after playing house elf to the Mudblood.
Draco crawled into bed, and curled up, quickly falling prey to the world of dreams.
Hermione chewed quietly as she watched Mum Weazy cleaning the kitchen.
“Hermione, dear, are you done with your carrot?” Mum Weazy asked, as she Scourgified the pantry.
“Yup, Mum Weazy! All done! Zee!” she held out her hands to show the red-headed woman that the vegetable in question was gone.
“Good. Why don’t you go take a nap, dear? You didn’t get to take one this morning, and today has been exceptionally busy.”
Hermione nodded, and followed Mum Weazy up the stairs, and into her room. She lay down on her small bed, and waited until the older woman tucked her in, kissing her forehead.
After a while of tossing and turning, Hermione realized she couldn’t sleep “ she needed ‘Bob’ to sleep, but felt a pang of heart ache as she realized that ‘Bob’ was back home. Small tears rolled down her eyes, and she decided to go look for a suitable replacement. Small feet padded their way to the door as Hermione climbed off her bed, crossed the hallway into Fewat’s, and climbed into his bed. Instead, she found him scowling, even in his sleep, gave him a tiny kiss on his nose, and cuddled up with him for a nap. Before giving in to Mr. Sandman, Hermione vaguely wondered if it would be okay to ask Fewat to get her a replacement for Bob, her stuffed lion.
Draco, The Babysitter by mgle_teacher
Chapter Notes: I want to thank all my faithful readers *squishes* You guys are the best - I love your reviews, and feedback.
I also want to thank my two wonderful betas: helgaandgodric, and Gmariam. They're the best! Without them this story wouldn't be quite as fun as it is.
Again, much love, and enjoy!