The Babysitter (Dramione Fanfiction)

The Extended Stay

"Good morning, Malfoy."

"Draco! Good morning!"

The blond peeked above the latest edition of the Daily Prophet to return their greetings with a nod of his head. Hermione offered him a weak smile when Rose claimed the seat beside him. Her mother had no choice but to sit on the chair directly opposite Draco.

Tippy instantly popped in. With a snap of his fingers, Granger's and Rose's usual breakfasts appeared in front of them. Hermione profusely thanked the house elf, much to Tippy's embarrassment, and had not let the creature go until she incessantly told him he was doing a job well done. Suppressing a smirk, Draco thought she had not changed one bit.

Hermione looked loads better now. She would occasionally grimace, hands gravitating down to her abdomen, but the Healers assured them it was merely a side effect of the curse and would wear off in about a day or two. She would be weak for at least two or three more weeks, and had not given her permission to go back to work, much to her chagrin. Potter was already Owled to tell him the news, but The-Boy-Who-Lived unfortunately (fortunately, really), was unable to drop by to his flat to check up on his best friend. Lestrange's case was still in the works and Draco could not understand why they wouldn't just bloody throw him to Azkaban.

"The other rogue Death Eaters escaped," Potter explained. "We needed Lestrange for information."

He sneered, recalling that particular conversation. He knew his uncle well enough to know that he wouldn't crack, even under the most painful and legal spell ever invented. Veritaserum wouldn't work on him, too; after the whole Barty Crouch Jr. fiasco, Voldemort had developed some kind of potion that granted immunity from the Truth Serum to the Death Eaters in his inner circle. Keeping him free for a really long time for information was futile and dangerous. But Potter wouldn't hear the end of it and proceeded to be a bloody hero and squeeze whatever information they might get from Lestrange.

"Do you like my pretty earrings, Draco?"

His mind snapped back into the present when Rose's voice invaded his thoughts. Blinking rapidly to shake the dark thoughts away, his mercurial eyes landed on the proud child who was fondly cradling her earrings with her tiny hands. Hermione was torn between looking amused and curious.

"It looks ridiculous," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"No, it's pretty," she interjected with a huff.

A small smile slipped on his face and he shook his head. "I don't know why you even bothere asking me, you menace," he said, void of any malicious tone.

When he shifted his eyes to look at Hermione, he lifted an eyebrow. She was looking at him with that weird expression on her face once more, prompting his smile to falter into a frown. "What?" he demanded, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

To his surprise, Hermione merely smiled and shook her head.

"Mama, do you like my new earrings?" Rose asked, this time directing her question at her mother.

Draco expectantly looked at Granger, even having the audacity to lift a challenging eyebrow. He knew how Granger always thought Loony Lovegood's fashion sense was eccentric and sometimes bordering... atrociousness. The radish earrings were definitely classified on the latter category and wondered how Granger would answer.

"It is... unique," she finally lamely said. Draco snorted, earning him a glare from the bushy-haired brunette. She then touched one of the earrings, a wistful smile on her face. "It reminds me of someone I used to know."

"It's pretty, yes?" Rose said, eyes alight with happiness. "The lady Nott met yesterday gave me these, Mama. I really like them!"

Draco's heart plummeted to the ground when a stony expression came over Hermione's face. Internally, he cursed his best friend for once again stupidly bringing a child to one of his ridiculous escapades. He took a mental note of sending him a bloody Howler to give him a piece of his mind (and maybe Granger's), that bastard.