What the bloody hell? Why is the Mudblood in my bed? he thought, a deep scowl gracing his face.
Refocusing on the wetness, he realized that the Mudblood had drooled all over his arm and part of his robe. Anger slowly boiled in his blood, but the memory of the earlier this morning stopped him from any rash actions. Instead, he quietly climbed out of the bed, wiped his arm dry with one of Potter’s discarded robes, and left the Mudblood alone, sleeping in his bed. He made a mental note to ask Mrs. Weasley to Scourgify the sheets later before he went to bed.
He quietly made his way down the rickety stairs, and found Mrs. Weasley serving dinner to Moody, Remus, and Potter. Mentally grimacing, he mutely made his way past them to the ice-box to get himself a glass of milk, and perhaps some for the Mudblood pre-emptively avoiding any more annoyances from her for tonight.
As he walked by the table though, he was greeted by everyone seated there.
“Evening, Draco,” Remus cheerfully said.
”Malfoy,” Potter and Moody grumbled cordially.
“How did you sleep, Draco? Is Hermione still sleeping? You two had quite a rough day today “ slept right through most of it,” Mrs. Weasley happily stated before continuing. “I would have woken you two up, but you looked so adorable cuddled up together, I just didn’t have the heart to do it.”
Draco’s cheeks burned with embarrassment at Molly’s indiscreet statement, while Remus discreetly chuckled at the announcement.
“Oh that’s rich, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry snorted, “You’ll have to let me see that image in a Pensieve.”
“No. You will not, Potter! Mrs. Weasley shouldn’t have ever seen that in the first place. I was merely taking a late-afternoon nap; I have no idea how Granger got into my bed,” Draco said angrily, stomping his way past the table.
“Oh, dear, I believe that’s my fault,” Molly fretted, ignoring the angry Slytherin walking away from her.
“You sent Hermione to sleep in the snake pit, Molly?” Moody growled as he pushed his chair back.
“Oh. Pish posh! Of course, not! I put Hermione to bed for a nap. She must have wandered to Draco’s room after I left.”
“Well, then where is she now, Ferret?” Potter inquired mischievously as Draco returned with a glass of milk for the Mudblood. Danger flashed in Draco’s eyes at the mention of the ‘f-word,’ daring Potter to repeat it, as he slammed the glass down on the wooden table.
“She’s asleep, Potter,” he spat back annoyed.
“Well then, why don’t you bring her down here,” Harry suggested mockingly.
Draco scowled at Potter before stomping up the stairs to retrieve the Mudblood for dinner. Fuming, Draco vaguely wondered how he could get back at Potter. However, when Draco opened the door to his room, he found said Mudblood holding the blanket tightly with tears in her eyes. She looked up at Draco, teary eyed, before she jumped out of bed and grabbed his leg.
“Fewat! Where did you go? I was scawed! I miss Bob!” she wailed.
“Get your hands off me, Mud-Granger,” snapped Draco which only caused the young girl to cry harder.
“Stop your snivelling!” he admonished, trying to shake her off.
“I miss Bob!” she cried.
“Who’s Bob, Granger?” Draco asked disdainfully, already regretting the question.
“My stuffed lion,” she muttered. Draco sighed with frustration. First, he’d been forced to feed the Mudblood earlier, and to his horror she was the messiest eater he’d ever met; Draco would go so far as to say that she was messier than the Weasel. Then, the Mudblood had crawled into his bed during his supposedly peaceful yet impromptu nap. Now, she was clinging to his leg, wailing about some stuffed Muggle animal named ‘Bob.’
Dropping to his knees, he picked up the Mudblood from the floor, and began rubbing her back. “Shh, Mud-Granger, we’ll get you a new Bob. Just stop crying, ok?” he tried reasoning with her, the same way his parents had reasoned with him during his legendary tantrums: the good ol’ Slytherin way of blackmail and bribes.
“Weally? We get me a new lion?” she asked, her eyes bright with tears.
“Yes, really,” he huffed. Suddenly, to his horror, the little girl threw her arms around his neck, and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek. He made a mental note to thoroughly wash his face prior to going to sleep. Awkwardly, Draco kept rubbing her back, scowling the entire time at the close contact.
“Fewat, I’m hungwy!” she happily exclaimed all of a sudden.
Relieved at her sudden outburst, Draco began putting her down when he felt her small arms tighten around his neck. “No! Cawy me!”
“Mud-Granger, I’m not going to carry you everywhere. You need to walk on your own.”
The brunette scowled at him petulantly as he set her feet down on the floor, but he found that she had become very jelly-like for she continued to cling to him determinedly.
“Granger, let go!” he admonished, shaking her off his neck. With a small thud, the little girl fell to the floor into a pile dirty robes that needed washing.
He began walking away from her determined to not carry the Mudblood; he made it to the door before he heard a whimper. Turning around he saw the Mudblood sucking on her thumb. He scowled at the barbaric behaviour.
“Well? Come on, or are you going to go hungry? I have a lot of reading to do before putting you to bed tonight, and I do not fancy skipping out on dinner,” he barked at the whimpering child.
The little girl picked herself up, ran to him, and threw herself at his legs. “Please cawy me, Fewat!” Draco tried to move away from her grip, but found that she had tangled herself very well around his limbs.
“Let go, Mud-Granger!” he muttered.
“NO! CAWY ME!” screamed the Mudblood.
Draco closed his eyes in frustration before reaching down, and picking up the four year old to shut her squealing. Angry at himself for giving in to her tantrum, Draco stomped all the way down to the kitchen as she happily chatted nonsensically in his ear.
Upon arriving at the kitchen, the Mudblood practically jumped out of his arms, and ran to Mrs. Weasley.
“Mum Weazy!” the little girl cried, jumping into the waiting arms of the older woman.
Potter and Remus smiled at Hermione when she waved back them after recognizing the two men. After scanning the room, Draco noticed that Moody had taken an early leave.
“Well, Malfoy, two days and she’s still in one piece,” Potter remarked in a semi-astonished tone.
“Of course, Potter,” Draco drawled. “Why wouldn’t she be in one piece? Don’t you think I don’t know what you would do to me if anything happened to your Mud-Granger?”
Raising an eyebrow, Potter grinned at Draco. “Well, it’s good to know that she’ll still be in one piece when Ron arrives in two days.”
“Joy,” muttered Draco, helping the Mudblood to the highchair that Mrs. Weasley had Transfigured for her.
“Too bad I can’t say the same for you,” Potter smirked, reaching for a second serving of dinner.