sherbet lemon

an extra lacewing fly [aromantic dramione fluff]

        "Draco, no!" Hermione cried, looping an arm around his middle and hauling him back into the soapy basin. The toddler waved his tiny clenched fists and pounded the surface of the water, which was currently thick with soot from the fireplace he had determined was a sandbox. His antics doused his babysitter with the gritty concoction and she spluttered, irritated, but continued to scrub his soft skin with a damp cloth until it took on a glowing, rosy hue. His fine white hair plastered itself to his scalp and he scrunched his petite, upturned nose as she scoured his protruding cheeks bones and muttered to herself.

        "Just had to make that stupid bet...'drink the potion, Draco' they said 'it'll be funny, Draco' they said...who knew one more lacewing fly made it deaging potion instead of aging potion...and of course I get stuck with you...acting like I meant to do this..." She paused her ranting to squint down at her charge. "You know I would turn you straight in to Madame Pomphry if I didn't think McGonnagal would have my time turner for making such a stupid mistake."
        In response he drenched her in a tsunami of grimy water, clapping and giggling maniacally as she coughed and sneezed.

        Magically ridding herself of the moisture, if not the irritation, the gryffindor hefted him out of the water and onto a makeshift rug. After a moment's consideration, she toweled him off manually, unsure how many tries it would take to hit him with a drying spell. At lightning speed, however, he squirmed away from her and ran about the common room, weaving between table legs and chairs as she lunged after him, all the while emitting the same impish chuckle that exceeded that of the average toddler. He seemed immune to the high paced chase as he never seemed to tire, despite the winter air and lack of clothes. Hermione only gained the upper hand when he tried to dash up the steps to the girls' dormitory and they flattened into a slick ramp so he slid on his belly into her waiting arms.

        "Gotcha, you little pixie." she laughed while he pouted haughtily. "You're so lucky potions was the last class before Christmas break, otherwise I'd be taking care of you with Moaning Myrtle."
Even as he squirmed discontentedly in her hold she had to, grudgingly, admit he was rather adorable and slightly less git-like in this form. His grey eyes were bright with a mischief absent of their usual cruelty and his tiny fingers and toes constantly curled as though he were trying to catch hold of the next big adventure. She continued to cradle him and blew against his little tummy so he giggled bubbly, the first innocent thing he'd done all day. He wriggled easily into a pair of emerald green footie pajamas, spun out of thin air before his eyes, before eagerly nuzzling back against her shoulder. In seconds he had wound his arms cozily around her neck while she rubbed his little back, tickling her stomach by wiggling his toes pleasurably. Hermione smiled down at the boy warmly and stroked his still damp blonde hair; his nose twitched but otherwise he didn't stir.

        "You want to play with Crookshanks?" she asked some time later as the bushy cat brushed against her legs. Crouching down, she lowered Draco into her lap and let her furry pet sniff at his outstretched hands. He seemed to find the child satisfactory and let him crawl onto the woven rug to pat the top of his head. The cat even went so far as to roll over and expose his fluffy white underbelly for delicate fingers to wind through.

        The pair sat contentedly as stars began to twinkle to life outside until the toddler finally yawned and stretched out in a similar fashion as his companion, curled against his fur. Hermione grinned at her cat, who blinked sleepily and seemed to assure her he would watch over the child. Overcome with a dreamy drowsiness herself, she planted a light kiss on the top of each head and traipsed up to her dormitory, wondering what Malfoy would make of waking up on the floor of his enemies' common room.