The Talented Mr. Malfoy

Chapter 7 - Hermione Granger and the Sitter

A/N: A huge thank you to my brilliant alpha/beta team: Lilithmorningstar69 and LeilahMoon! I am beyond lucky to have found them!

_________________________________

"What in the world are you still doing here?" Hermione dropped her purse onto the sofa and shrugged her coat off her shoulders. She placed her hands on her hips and took in the scene playing out in her living room.

Malfoy looked up at her from the floor. Several mobile Barbies around him froze when his concentration broke. He gave her an innocent smile. "The living room is where the bank is."

Hermione blinked at him once and then her gaze travelled to Rosie, who was also grinning sweetly in her direction. Slowly, Hermione hung up her coat, still watching the two of them. "I meant, what are you still doing here in my house? Not here in my living room."

"Oh." Malfoy waved a hand and returned his attention to the dolls surrounding him and Rosie. "We weren't quite finished when Mrs. Fleming arrived. We sent her away."

Hermione stared at Rosie as she muttered something to Malfoy and the latter nodded in agreement, shuffling around the configuration of Barbies until they both appeared satisfied with their formation. Rosie's Barbie Dreamhouse stood behind them, an extension charm bizarrely warping its open concept layout from Hermione's vantage point. Hermione stepped forward, gawking at the house, which Malfoy had enchanted to look like Gringotts. Her eyes met Malfoy's across the living room. "What exactly are you playing?" she asked.

"Playing?" Malfoy scoffed. "Who's playing?" He waved his wand and several Barbies began marching one after the other toward the house. "Am I right, Rosie?"

Rosie nodded without looking up at her mother.

Malfoy shook his head. "The disrespect. I'm telling you–"

But he didn't have the chance to finish his train of thought because, at that moment, Hermione grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and tugged him upward. He staggered to his feet and the Barbies dropped to their sides. Rosie began to whine.

"In the kitchen," Hermione hissed at Malfoy. She jerked her head to indicate that he should move lest she decide to maim him. "Rosie," she glanced down, talking right over the girl's wailing, "go brush your teeth. It's exceptionally past your bedtime." Hermione shot Malfoy a glare as Rosie stood up from the floor and kicked a pink convertible on her way to the bathroom.

Malfoy flinched behind the kitchen counter. "That was the getaway car, Rosie!" he exclaimed. Then he bit his lip and glimpsed sheepishly at Hermione's livid face. "No matter," he added quietly. "They'll Apparate."

When Rosie looked up at Malfoy, Hermione screeched, "Teeth, Rosie!"

Rosie sulked and trudged angrily through the living room.

Once she was out of earshot, Hermione rounded on Malfoy. "What, pray tell, are you teaching my daughter?"

Malfoy retreated into the refrigerator as she advanced on him. "It was her idea!"

Hermione was seething. "What was her idea? To play out your delusional fantasy of holding up a bank?"

"You keep saying play."

Hermione clenched her fists. She'd brought her face so close to his that she could feel the heat of his breath on her neck, and she was quickly regretting the decision. She hadn't been this close to him since – well, it didn't matter now. She pressed her lips together angrily as his mouth moved into one of his signature sideways smirks. She growled. "You are a child." She stepped away from him, the tension in her body evaporating from sheer exhaustion.