Adventures in Weasley-Sitting

Chapter One

Night settled over Kensington like a thick blanket. It was quite late, and most of the occupants of the townhouses that lined the street were fast asleep in their beds. All except for the adult residents of Number Twenty-seven, that is, who were bidding their dinner guests goodnight.

"Lunch tomorrow then, Draco?" asked Hermione Weasley, and the blond man nodded his assent.

"Of course, as always," he said.

"Why is your man always trying to steal my wife?" grumbled Ron Weasley to the blond man's companion.

"Because then he'll be that much closer to the full set," replied Harry Potter, and the look upon Ron's face made the dark-haired man burst into laughter. "Sweet dreams, Ron."

"Go to hell," snorted Ron, and shuffling Hermione inside, closed the door.

Draco grinned and took Harry's arm. "Lovely night for a walk, I'm glad you suggested it."

"Mmm," said Harry, and fell silent. The walk from Kensington to their flat in Knightsbridge was only about twenty minutes, and though the hour was late and both men had work in the morning, Draco was glad for the fresh air.

Draco was so occupied in enjoying his walk, he didn't notice that Harry was lost in his own thoughts, his brow furrowed and his mouth pursed in a frown. When the rain began to pour several minutes before they reached the door to their building, Draco realised that something was bothering Harry -- why else would anyone stand out in the rain only steps from the dry doorway?

"You're in a mood," said Draco dryly, and Harry unlocked the door and strode into the flat, heading straight to the window, where he proceeded to watch the rain fall, nose pressed to the cold glass.

Draco tried to ignore him (which was generally the best course of action when the dark-haired man was sulking or otherwise despondent). He made a great deal of noise in the kitchen by breaking a dish or two. He turned on the radio and changed the station several times, hoping to rouse Harry into saying something.

Finally, he couldn't stand the noise himself, and he joined Harry at the window. "Rainy tonight," he observed, leaning up against him. Harry didn't move. "Cold too. I could start a fire?"

Harry didn't answer. Draco sighed, and wrapped his arm around the other man's elbow. "You had a good time tonight, love, didn't you?"

Harry still didn't answer, and Draco sighed. Harry didn't get into moods often, but Draco knew that eventually he'd figure out what was bothering his lover.

"Ron's a brilliant cook. I could've eaten every bite of whatever it was he made -- what'd he call it, pollo executo? And I liked that new painting of Dean's that they had in the foyer. All the reds and purples mixing together. Very original. Makes me wish I were artistic like that, eh? Oh, and the baby! Andrea, right? She's a cutie, isn't she?"

"I want one," Harry said suddenly, and Draco moved away to look at him.

"One what?"

"A baby."

"Excuse me?"

"Andrea," said Harry, still staring out the window. "Did you see the way she looks up at you, when you're holding her, and how her hair forms that triangle on her head?"

"Widow's peak," said Draco, remembering that Harry had held the newest member of the Weasley family for about an hour earlier in the evening. Hermione had even let him bottle-feed the baby, before she'd taken her up to bed. Draco and Harry had left shortly afterwards, and Draco decided that it was the baby that had put Harry into such a funk.

"She just looked right at me," continued Harry dreamily. "It was like she was looking right into my soul, and you know what? She liked what she saw. She was happy being held by me. Did you hear her whimper when Hermione took her away?"

"Harry," said Draco gently, "I don't exactly know how to tell you this, but we kind of can't have a baby. We don't really have the right equipment."

"Not our own, anyway," said Harry.

"You never talked about having kids before," said Draco. "This is a bit sudden, don't you think?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "But -- well, I never spent a lot of time with kids before. Even when I was younger, I didn't play with many other children."

"You had a cousin."

"Dudley abused me every chance he got," said Harry grimly. "He doesn't count."

Draco was quiet for a moment. "I never really thought much about having kids."

"I did," said Harry, and he stood up and walked away from the window. Draco turned to see him disappear into the kitchen.

"You did? When?"

"Before you," was all Harry said from the kitchen, and he returned with two glasses and the bottle of brandy they kept in the cupboard. He poured them each a glass and handed one to Draco, who took it, but didn't drink. "I'd see Mr Weasley and Ron and his brothers, all playing Quidditch or tinkering with some Muggle contraption in the shed, and I'd think how great it would be to do that with my own kids some day. Or how I'd name them after my parents... " Harry's voice trailed off. He downed the brandy in one shot as Draco swirled his own alcohol in his glass and studied it.

"My father was pretty wretched, in the end," Draco said finally. "But he was good to me when I was younger. In his own twisted way, at least. I wouldn't want my kids to grow up like I did. I doubt I'd be good at parenting."

"All I had was Uncle Vernon," said Harry. "Not that he's much better. And you're a great Uncle Draco. Even Molly Weasley says so."

"Oh, uncle is easy. You find some toy that involves loud noises or slimy messes and you're the best adult in the world. Anything that pisses off parents is sure to make the kids love you," said Draco. "I'm great at uncle. As father, I'd be lousy."

"No, you wouldn't," said Harry, smiling.

"I'd have to be the disciplinarian," said Draco. "You're an old softie. You'd let a three-month-old bungee off the Tower of London if they asked."

"I would not!"

"I bet you wouldn't last a day alone with kids," continued Draco. "They'd have you tied in knots by five in the evening, and probably have burnt the house down to boot."

"I could so take care of a bunch of kids!" said Harry. "Ron's kids love me. They'd be easy to watch, for a day."

"Great," said Draco, smirking. "I'll set it up with Hermione at lunch tomorrow. I bet she's dying to get some quality time with Ron -- we'll take their kids for the day. It'll be fun."

"Great," said Harry, but he didn't sound so sure.

* * * * *

"He wants to what?" Hermione stared at Draco across the table. They were sitting in the Leaky Cauldron during the lunch rush, and she set her sandwich back on her plate, momentarily forgotten.

"It was my idea," said Draco. "Sort of. I figure its trial by fire. If Harry can last a day with your three br--eautiful children, then I'll find a way for us to have one ourselves."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You can say they're brats in front of me, Draco. I live with them. I know they're brats."

"Have you informed your husband?" asked Draco. "He seems to think they're perfect."

"Well, they're that too," said Hermione loyally. "Fine then. How about this Saturday? There's an exhibition at the V and A I've been wanting to see, and Ron will go anywhere if we're promised free babysitting."

"Since when did I say free?"

Hermione smiled. "I'm offering you a lovely service, my friend -- you take care of my three children for a day, and they will take care of Harry's fatherly urges."

"Right. Deal."

They shook hands.

* * * * *

Saturday dawned bright and clear. Harry was awake at five, meticulously packing a lunch basket with sandwiches and cheese and biscuits and pickles, whistling merrily. He glanced at the clock now and then, and finally at half past six went into the bedroom, where he threw open the curtains. Sunlight filled the room, falling mainly on the still sleeping form huddled under the covers.

"Good morning!" said Harry cheerily. "Up and at 'em! We'll be late!"

"S'too early," muttered the body, and Harry reached over and pulled down the covers. Draco shivered at the sudden exposure to air and screamed, reaching to pull them back up. "Are you MAD? It must be bloody six in the morning!"

"Near on seven, actually," said Harry. "And we're to be at the Weasley's at half past. Come on then, you're up by now generally."

"During the week, yes," grumbled Draco. "But this is Saturday. I want to sleep!"

Harry leaned over and kissed him. "Come on," he coaxed. "I'll let you hold little Andrea for a bit."

Draco wasn't fooled, but he got out of the bed anyway. "You'll let her spit up all over my jumper, is what," he grumbled, and got into the shower. Harry bounced off the bed and hopped into the kitchen, knowing full well that Draco would be perfectly gracious after a cup of coffee.

As they prepared to Apparate to the Weasley's home, Draco eyed the picnic basket. "You are mad," he said. "It's supposed to rain today."

Harry snorted. "Not a cloud in the sky. And I checked the Prophet -- sunny and clear all day."

"The last time the Prophet got a prediction right," said Draco dryly, "was when they said that your scar was driving you crazy."

"That was Rita Skeeter, and you and your Slytherins told her that story."

"And here you are," continued Draco, "mad as a hatter."

Harry laughed, and picked up the basket and tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace. "The Burrow," he called out gaily, and disappeared in a flash of green flame. Draco sighed, and followed him, stepping out of the fireplace in the Weasley sitting room. He was brushing the soot off his coat when Hermione popped her head around the doorway.

"Hi! You're here!" she said, quickly. Her eyes were strangely bright. "Now, I've posted all the important information next to the Floo Powder on the mantle in the kitchen, and I checked and Dr Seamus will be home all day today, so call him if you need anything -- er, Harry, what's that you're carrying?"

"I thought we'd go to Hyde Park for lunch," said Harry happily. "I packed pickles!"

"Ah. Yes. Well, that would have been nice, but it's supposed to rain today -- "

"Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"Because it's going to rain today, sweetheart," said Draco patiently.

"Oh, Harry, I told you to stop believing the Prophet's weather reports," said Hermione, sighing. "Here, set that down. Ron! Come along, let's go!"

Ron appeared in the doorway, his cloak already fastened. "Excellent, you're both here, and the important things are posted -- "

"On the mantle next to the Floo Powder," said Draco. "We know. But exactly where are your children?"

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other -- a very quick glance, and spoke at the same time.

"In their rooms," said Ron.

"In the back garden," said Hermione.

"Right," said Draco patiently. "You don't have a back garden."

"Well then, I must be wrong!" said Hermione, with forced cheerfulness. "We'll be going then -- back at six!" And she tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace, muttered something completely unrecognisable to either Harry or Draco, and the two Weasley parents disappeared into the flames.

"Well," said Harry brightly, clapping his hands together. "Let's go find the children, shall we?"

"Ron and Hermione left quick, didn't they?" said Draco sourly.

"I suspect they want to get to the museum early," said Harry.

"It's not even eight, and the museum opens at ten," said Draco.

"Traffic," said Harry.

"They're taking the Floo."

"They're married," said Harry pointedly. "Are you going to help me or not?"

Draco glared. "No, this is your project. I'm going to watch some telly, just dump the kiddies with me when you find 'em, all right?"

Harry chuckled and left Draco in the front room, flipping channels. He started looking in the children's bedrooms.

No kids.

He looked in Hermione and Ron's room. Clothes were strewn everywhere, and it looked as though someone had been playing with what little make-up Hermione owned. But no kids.

He looked in the kitchen. There was a pile of dishes in the sink, and Harry paused to look at the note on the mantle:

Dear Harry and Draco,

Justin is allergic to rye, and this week he refuses to eat anything but sardine sandwiches on wheat bread, with the crusts cut off. He has a bit of homework for Monday, something about a presentation on dragons. Maybe you could help him get started on that.

Kara is allergic to strawberries. Do be careful when she crosses her eyes. Things tend to fall off walls when she does that. We're not sure why.

Andrea is so far not allergic to anything, but she is getting over an ear infection. You have to put three drops of medicine in her right ear every four hours. She's very good with it, so don't worry about it. The medicine is in the cabinet next to the kitchen sink.

Have a lovely day and we'll see you this evening,

Love,

Hermione & Ron

A list of doctors and family members followed, but Harry skipped that and continued searching for the kids.

He checked the laundry room next to the kitchen. No kids.

He leaned out of the window above the kitchen sink and glanced into the thin strip of rocky ground that in no way counted as a back yard. No kids.

He looked past the nearby fence and into the neighbour's yard. No kids.

He finally decided to check the study, where Hermione kept every book she'd ever purchased in her life (even the ones by Gilderoy Lockhart, although she'd charmed the covers so that they looked like Anthony Trollope's Pallisar novels, ensuring that Ron would never pick one up and discover their true identity). Harry doubted the children would be in the study, as it was the one place that was off limits.

Naturally, Harry was wrong.

"Oh, hello Uncle Harry!" said Justin Weasley, eight years old with flaming red hair and brown eyes, balancing on top of a very tall and very rocky pile of books, stacked near to the ceiling. He stood precariously, holding a light bulb in one hand and another book in the other, while three-year-old Kara and baby Andrea sat near the base of the tower of books and watched.

"Justin Weasley, what are you doing up there?" asked Harry.

"Replacing the light bulb, Uncle Harry, what does it look like?" sniffed Justin.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Well, see, it's broken," explained Justin. "And I thought if I replaced it, Mummy wouldn't notice."

"She could have replaced it herself," said Harry.

"But she would have wondered how it broke," said Justin, "and I didn't particularly want to tell her that part."

Harry was suddenly afraid to ask. "Exactly how did you get up there anyway?"

"Oh," said Justin, quite proudly. "I jumped and set a book under me, and kept doing that until I was up here."

Harry gulped. "You didn't fall?"

"Nope," said Justin cheerily. "Pop says I could bungee off the Tower of London and forget to tie the cord, and I wouldn't hurt myself. Great, huh?"

"Not particularly," said Harry. "Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes," said Justin. "But I'm still hungry."

"Come on down then," said Harry, reaching up for the boy, "and I'll get you something."

"Great," said Justin, and jumped into Harry's arms, knocking over the pile of books in the process. The resulting crash made Harry wince.

Draco's voice floated in from the front room. "Find them, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry called back.

"Excellent." And Draco settled back in the couch and nodded off to sleep.

* * * * *

Harry set the baby in her high chair and turned to look at the other two children. They both had sat themselves down at the table and were looking at him expectantly, hands neatly folded before them.

"Well," said Harry. "What would you like to eat?"

"Sardine sandwich," said Justin.

"For breakfast?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Let me see -- er, Justin, there don't seem to be any sardines here."

Justin frowned. "Sardine sandwich, Uncle Harry."

Harry shook his head. "How about an omelette instead?"

"No. Sardine sandwich!"

"He won't eat anything else," piped up little Kara. She was so small her chin rested on the table.

"But last week I made you a lovely cheese omelette, and you loved it," said Harry, looking at Justin imploringly. Justin looked like he was about to cry.

"SARDINE SANDWICH!!!!!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, and from the front room came a loud thump as Draco fell off the couch.

"What the hell!" Harry heard him yell.

"Uncle Draco!" cried out Kara, and jumped up from her chair and ran out of the kitchen. The look that Justin gave Harry filled the older man with a certain sense of dread, and Harry suddenly understood why young children were not allowed their own wands.

Kara ran into the front room and found Draco sitting on the floor, rubbing his head. "Uncle Draco!" she squealed, and threw herself into his lap. "Let's play a game, can we, can we, can we, can we?"

"Uh, sure," said Draco, blinking. "What do you want to play?"

"Hide and Go Seek," said Kara. "I'll go hide, and you have to come find me. You count to ten."

"Okay," said Draco. He covered his eyes with his hands and began counting loudly. "One, two, three..."

The scampering of little feet told him that Kara had left the room, and he opened his eyes and stopped counting. Carefully picking himself up off the floor and checking to make sure his hair was in place, he left the room and wandered into the kitchen, where Justin was now jumping on the kitchen table. Harry was trying to hold him down.

"What," drawled Draco, leaning against the doorframe, "is going on here?"

"Uncle Draco!" shouted Justin, and jumped off the table and at Draco, who only managed to uncross his arms and catch him in the nick of time. "Uncle Harry's mean, he won't give me any sardine sandwiches."

Harry looked at Draco with a blank expression. "I tried to tell him there aren't any sardines left," he said, nearly whining. Draco rolled his eyes.

"We'll have to find some then," said Draco. "Are you dying, or can you wait twenty minutes?"

Justin screwed his face up in thought. "I can wait," he said finally.

"Great," said Draco. "Go find your coat, and we'll go get some sardines." Justin ran out of the room, and Draco looked at Harry, who had collapsed in a chair. "How long have we been here, ten minutes? And you're already tired?"

"No," said Harry defensively. "Where are you taking him for sardines? It's eight in the morning. Nothing is open."

"Gah," said Draco. "We've got sardines at home. Or maybe Pansy has them. Whatever. We'll find them. He's not hungry anyway, he's just bored."

"You better be back before lunchtime," said Harry. "You don't want to be late for our picnic in the park."

Justin reappeared. "It's going to rain today," he informed his uncle, and Harry glared at him.

"I've heard."

* * * * *

Draco and Justin knocked on the door, and when it opened, Neville Longbottom's face appeared in it. "Hello," he said, a bit confused. "Early, isn't it?"

"Quite," said Draco cheerily. "Have any sardines?"

* * * * *

Harry stared at Andrea. She stared back at him.

Harry tilted his head to the side. She grinned, and he smiled back.

Then a gas line exploded.

"Eww," said Harry, wrinkling his nose. Andrea giggled. Harry struggled to pick her up out of her seat, and tried to hold his nose and carry her up the stairs at the same time. Except that Andrea was a very squirmy baby and wouldn't hold still. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, she was upside-down.

Harry dumped her unceremoniously on the changing table. "This can't be so hard," he said. "I've seen Ron do this a million times before." And then he pulled down the frilly, lacy pink underpants that Andrea was wearing under her dress.

"Oh dear God in Heaven."

* * * * *

There was a knock on the door, and Cho Chang answered it to find Draco Malfoy and Justin Weasley standing on the other side.

"Draco? What are you doing here?"

"Pardon me, but do you have any sardines this morning?"

* * * * *

Harry stared at the cloth diaper in complete confusion.

"Your mother must have gotten into that save the Earth thing," he said weakly. "Oh dear."

It was just about then that he heard the voices downstairs from the front room. "Hello!" called a voice that sounded mysteriously like Fred Weasley. "Herm? Ron?"

"Up here!" yelled Harry. There was a thundering on the stairs, and then Fred Weasley's red head popped through the doorway. "Oh, hullo," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Ron and Hermione went to a museum," said Harry. "Draco and I are watching the kids. You don't know how to tie a diaper, do you?"

Fred looked at Andrea, scrunched his nose in thought, and then turned toward the doorway. "Angelina!" he yelled. "Can you come up here a minute?"

* * * * *

"Draco Malfoy? Pray tell, what are you doing here at this hour in the morning?"

"Hullo, Professor Snape. I was wondering if you had any sardines lying about?"

* * * * *

Angelina closed the last safety pin with a snap. "And there you are, a nicely pinned cloth diaper," she said proudly. "Can you remember that?"

Harry nodded, quite certain he could. "Thanks," he said gratefully, taking Andrea in his arms again. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here."

"You'd manage," she said, smiling. "Well then, we're off. Tell Herm and Ron that we'll be back around 7ish, right?"

"Sure," said Harry, not paying attention. "Have fun."

Fred and Angelina disappeared down the stairs, and then Harry heard the front door slam shut behind them. He took his time going down the stairs, holding Andrea very carefully so she wouldn't turn over again. "Nice of them to stop by," he remarked to the baby. "Wonder what all that about returning later was for?"

He found out when he stepped into the front room, and saw three extra children sitting on the sofa, waiting for him.

* * * * *

"That is not a sardine."

"Sure it is," said Draco. "It's a fish, right? And it's small, right? So it's a sardine."

"That," said Justin firmly, "is an anchovy."

"Anchovies are just like sardines," said Draco patiently.

"I don't like anchovies," said Justin.

"Well, there aren't any more sardines in the entire country of Great Britain," said Draco. "Actually, I don't think there are any in the entire Northern Hemisphere."

"None?"

"Not a single solitary sardine spotted."

Justin considered this. "I guess a cheese sandwich would be nice."

Draco smiled. "Excellent."

*****

"Honey, I'm home!" called out Draco as he and Justin entered the front hall. "Harry? Where are you?"

Draco found Harry sitting in the front room, surrounded by children, every last one of which sprouted red hair. "Egad," he said, eyes widening. "They've multiplied."

"Fred and Angelina dropped off their kids," said Harry somewhat dully. "And then just a few moments ago, two more popped out of the fireplace. Ron's brother's Bill's kids."

"So how many children are here now?" asked Draco slowly.

Harry pondered. "Eight."

"Ah," said Draco. "Well. You seem to have this under control."

Harry nodded. "I sort of don't have enough sandwiches for lunch now, though."

"Well, it's going to rain anyway," said Draco.

"Pessimist."

"I'm going to find a nice cup of tea," said Draco. "You all right here?"

"Oh, sure," said Harry. "They're all captivated by whatever's on the television, anyhow."

Draco looked, and sure enough, each pair of eyes in the room, including Justin's, was focused on a series of rapidly moving cartoon images. Draco thought it might be Japanimation, but he wasn't sure.

"Isn't that the cartoon that causes brain seizures?" he asked doubtfully.

"They're quiet, you're gonna question it?"

"Right," said Draco. "Well then," and went off to the kitchen. His head was buried in the cabinet under the counter, looking for the tea kettle, when the little voice made him jump, bumping his head on the wood.

"Uncle Draco," said Kara, sounding as annoyed as a three-year-old can sound, "you were supposed to come and find me."

"Oh!" said Draco, and backed out of the cabinet. "I was looking for you, sweetheart. I was looking for you in the cabinet."

"I wasn't hiding in the cabinet."

"Well, here you are -- I found you," said Draco. Kara stomped her foot on the ground and narrowed her eyes.

"No, you're supposed to come and find me when I'm hiding."

"Right," said Draco. "Well, go hide again, and I'll come find you."

"Okay," said Kara. Draco closed his eyes and began counting. At "three," he peeked, and seeing that Kara had disappeared again, crawled back into the cabinet to find the kettle.

Tea, tea, tea, tea, tea, he muttered to himself. Ah, here it is. Gah, blue flowers on yellow. Who gave this to Hermione? Oh, right, Percy. Can't Oliver keep that boy in check?

Draco put the kettle on, and whistling Greensleeves, set it to boil and prepared the cup. He was just about to pour the water in when the wail of pure fury and grief rose from the other room, causing him to spill the boiling water over his hand.

"Argh!" yelled Draco.

"Draco!" yelled Harry.

"That prat," grumbled Draco, shaking the water off his hand. "Can't even control a telly by himself." He walked into the front room, and wondered how much could possibly shift in ten minutes.

The room was nearly empty of children, save Andrea and one of the Weasley cousins. Andrea was sitting on Harry's lap, red faced and screaming, and the other child was sticking her fingers in her ears and making a face. Every single photograph, painting, and other such knick-knack had fallen to the floor.

"She's upset," observed Draco.

"She just started."

"She's grabbing at her ear," said Draco, and Harry groaned.

"I forgot, her ear medicine," he said. "Hermione said to give her three drops every four hours. It's in the cabinet next to the kitchen sink, can you get it?"

Draco sighed the sigh of the oppressed, and went to locate the ear medicine. He brought it back to Harry who still held the screaming Andrea.

"Hold her hand away from her ear," he said, and Harry did. Draco dropped three drops into the ear, and almost instantly the little girl stopped screaming.

"Wow," said Harry. "That worked fast."

"Seamus is a good doctor," said Draco.

"I had an ear infection last month and my ear always hurt real bad when Dad forgot to give me my medicine but then he'd put the drops in and it would stop burning, cause it would burn like fire for hours and hours if I didn't have the medicine, and the drops made it cold and icy and it was very nice when your ear hurts except then you don't like to lie on it because it feels kind of funny like you've been out playing in the snow for too long," said the little girl sitting cross legged on the floor.

Draco and Harry looked at each other, and then at her. "Say that again?" asked Harry.

"No," said Draco quickly, as the girl started to take a deep breath. "Don't. Which one are you?"

"I'm Alexa," said the girl. "I'm Bill's, and I'm nine, and I'm the very oldest one here, and I'm going to Hogwarts in two years and I'm going to be in Ravenclaw because I'm the smartest one here, and right now I'm going to Strathcroy Prep and last week I read all of Anne of Green Gables, the whole series straight through, and I can tell you that what those kids are planning isn't very good and you're in trouble, especially seeing as you don't have enough sandwiches for lunch and it's going to rain this afternoon."

"Even the children know it's going to rain, Harry," said Draco patiently, but Harry's face had turned white.

"What do you mean, they're planning something?" he asked.

"They're kids, they can't plan anything," said Draco. "Here, Alexa, do you know where the others ran off to?"

"Upstairs," said Alexa, and would have continued except Draco cut her off.

"Fine," said Draco. "I'll take the baby, Harry. You go find them."

"Why can't you find them?" said Harry, handing the now laughing Andrea over to him.

"Because you're the one who's babysitting, not me," said Draco. "I'm just running interference."

Harry sighed and climbed the steps. He could hear noises coming from Justin's room and he poked his head in.

"Hey, you guys, you're missing your --- clothes????" Harry yelled. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Playing doctor," came the very obvious answer, courtesy of seven-year-old Bert Weasley, Fred and Angelina's eldest son. He had tight reddish-brown curls and very tanned skin, and though he was perfectly well behaved on his own, he was a force to be reckoned with in combination with Justin.

"Well, stop it!" shouted Harry. "You play doctor fully dressed! Gah!"

"Oh," said Dexter, age five. "I got it wrong, then." Dexter, freckle-faced with bright red hair, grinned happily from his seat on the bureau (Harry didn't want to think how he'd gotten up there) and swung his legs. "Merry, did you know you played doctor dressed?" he asked his twin sister Meredith.

Meredith had two red pony-tailed braids and a sprinkling of freckles across her scrunched up nose. "We're playing doctor?" she asked cheerily. "I thought we were trading clothes."

Harry began to understand why Dexter and Meredith, Fred and Angelina's youngest children, had been kicked out of every wizarding nursery school in England. "Lovely," he said. "Get dressed."

"Okay," said Meredith, and reached for what was obviously Justin's shirt.

"In your own clothes!" said Harry, and Meredith frowned. "Justin! Don't you have a project on dragons to do?"

"Yes," said Justin warily.

"Excellent. We can work on that before our picnic in the park."

"It's going to rain today," said Betty, Bill's six-year-old daughter. Betty and Alexa were a bit of a mystery to rest of the Weasley clan. One day about five years previously, Bill Weasley had shown up at the Burrow with two small girls in tow. "Hullo, Mum," he'd said, "these are mine. Watch them for me, won't you?" It was said that Molly had given Bill such a loud telling off that Draco claimed his ears still rung -- and Draco had been out of the country at the time.

Harry's mouth got very thin. "It is not going to rain today," he said, and left the room.

* * * * *

"Draco?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Is this really such a good idea?"

"The boy has a report on dragons to write. I would think observing a dragon would be instructive."

"But it's only a third-form report," said Harry, his voice growing a bit more desperate as he watched the children play with the creature Draco had transfigured from a cushion. "It's not a thesis for Stonehenge College. Is it truly necessary to have a pint-sized dragon running around the front room?"

There was a burst of laughter as the small dragon let a stream of golden-red flame out its mouth. The flames narrowly missed the curtains, and Harry quickly snatched Andrea off the floor just as she reached to pull on the dragon's forked tail.

"Oh, calm down, Harry," drawled Draco. "How much trouble can a baby Norwegian Ridgeback be?"

Harry glared at Draco. "You were asleep for most of first year, weren't you?" he snapped. "Or is your memory truly that bad?"

There was another shriek of laughter, followed by a shout of indignation from Justin.

"Uncle Harry!" he called. "The dragon set fire to my notes!"

"His name is Bob," said Meredith firmly.

"Who names a dragon Bob?" asked Alexa scornfully.

"I do," said Meredith.

"His name is Mud," snapped Justin, "and that was my homework!" Justin lunged for the dragon, which made a mewling sound and leapt towards Meredith's embracing arms.

"Don't hurt him!" cried the girl, wrapping her arms around the dragon's neck. "You didn't mean to burn up Justin's homework, did you, Bob?" She dropped a slobbery kiss onto Bob's snout, and the dragon looked up at her with what could only be described as complete adoration.

Draco laughed. "Oh my," he said. "The dragon's in love."

"I thought transfigured creatures couldn't have feelings?" said Harry sceptically.

"You were always a dunderhead in Transfiguration," replied Draco.

"Hand over the dragon!" yelled Justin, and the dragon leapt out of Meredith's arms and half flew from the room. Justin ran after it, followed closely by Meredith and the rest of the children, all of them shouting.

"Better stop them," said Draco cheerily, sitting back down on the sofa, and propping his feet up on the table. "Before they commit dragon-cide."

Harry sighed, and dropped Andrea onto Draco's lap. He found Meredith and Justin in a death-struggle on the kitchen floor, with the dragon firmly clenched in Meredith's arms. The other children were looking on with wide eyes, clearly interested but unwilling to assist, with the exception of Dexter, who was kicking Justin in the side.

"Don't hurt my dragon!" yelled Meredith, trying to hold the dragon closer. The dragon was flapping its wings frantically, trying to escape both children, and making small, alarming, dragonish sounds.

"He burnt my homework!" yelled Justin, struggling to wrench the dragon from her grasp.

"Quit hurting my sister!" yelled Dexter, and aimed a furious kick at Justin's shin.

"Merry, Justin, stop that!" yelled Harry, and Justin quickly let go of his younger cousin, and they both fell apart. Meredith, in her surprise, let go of the dragon, which flew right out the kitchen window.

"Bob!" wailed Meredith. "Come back!"

And then they heard the scream from the neighbour's back yard. "Horace! There's a rabid bumblebee in the yard! Call the exterminator!"

"That's not a bumblebee, Eunice," said a second voice, much lazier and contemplative. "That's a lizard, one of them spitting ones from Egypt."

"Call the police!"

"Bob," whimpered Meredith, and Harry sighed.

"Lovely," he muttered. "You wait here, I'll go get Draco and we'll sort this out."

* * *

"Ron, look at this. Isn't this amazing?" Hermione's voice filled the otherwise empty exhibition hall.

"Yeah, it's so quiet in here," said Ron dreamily. "Like we're the only ones here today."

"No, silly, the painting, the strokes of colour and the way the whole thing just lights up. It's lovely, do you think they have a copy in the gift shop?"

"We can look later," said Ron. "Kiss me."

"Ron!" giggled Hermione. "We're in public."

"Who cares?" said Ron. "No one else is here anyway."

"Ugh, I'm here," said a voice behind them, and they both jumped. Fred and Angelina stood holding hands, and Angelina had a smile playing on her lips. Fred's eyes were twinkling. "Go on, Ronniekins, give her a smooch."

"Shut it," said Hermione, swatting him. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you, a day from the kids," said Angelina. "Nice of Harry to sit for us, wasn't it?"

Hermione goggled. "You didn't leave yours with them too, did you?"

"Yes," said Fred. "Never say I turned down free babysitting, even when it wasn't offered in the first place."

Ron grinned. "Well," he said. "At least Draco's there too. Two against six is better odds any day."

* * * * *

"Harry," said Draco as soon as Harry had stepped into the room. "I have to go."

"What?"

"I just got a Floo message from work," said Draco quickly, dumping Andrea into Harry's arms. "It's an emergency. I'm really sorry, but I should have been there ten minutes ago."

Harry stared at Draco. "You can't go. There are eight children and a dragon running around this house. You can't leave me here!"

"I'm sorry," repeated Draco. "But you know I have to go."

Harry blinked. Draco's work as an Unspeakable had never interfered with their lives before, and he'd always joked about how it would likely finally rear its ugly head at the worst possible moment. Except Harry never imagined eight children as the worst possible moment.

"You all right, love?" said Draco, worried. "I can call Ginny, she might come over and help."

"No," said Harry weakly. "I can do it. You go."

Draco shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'll be back as soon as I can, all right?"

Harry nodded, and instantly Draco Apparated. Andrea laughed and clapped her hands. Harry looked into the empty front room, gulping when he heard Alexa's voice from behind him.

"You're in trouble now!" she sang, and Harry wanted to sit and cry.

* * * * *

Horace being completely useless for anything, Eunice had called the police herself. She and her husband now stood in the centre of their back garden, along with the two young constables, all four of them looking around as if the creature would hop out of the bushes with a neon sign saying "Here I am."

This doesn't usually occur, and so the four of them were looking in vain.

"Are you quite certain it's a lizard?" asked one constable, rather dubiously.

"Yes, yes, saw a lot of them in my day," huffed Horace.

"You never saw a lizard in your life," scoffed Eunice. "It's a bumblebee, one of them rabid ones I heard of on the BBC last week."

"I don't think bumblebees can be rabid," said the second constable. He held a rather large net in one hand, which resembled something like you'd expect a dog-catcher to carry. "You say it flew?"

"Yes, flew right over the fence there, sort of sat on its legs a bit and then hopped into the bushes."

"Legs? Are you certain it was a bumblebee?" asked the first constable, who was now incredulous. "Perhaps it was a Chihuahua."

"Chihuahuas don't fly!" said Horace. "Are you stupid?"

"It had stripes, and Chihuahuas don't have stripes!" said Eunice. "Bumblebees do!"

"Then it was a parrot," snapped the second constable. "Because bumblebees aren't rabid!"

The bushes on the rear edge of the garden rustled, and all four adults spun and stared at them. "Shh," whispered Horace, quite unnecessarily. "That's it now."

From behind the fence, Meredith whimpered softly. Harry set his hand on the girl's shoulder. "Shh, Merry," he whispered. "We'll get him back."

"Good luck," muttered Bert. Harry and the children were kneeling in the thin stretch of land between the Weasley house and the fence that separated the property from the neighbour's yard, peeking through the slats to see what was happening. Harry glared at the boy, and turned his attention back to the neighbouring yard, where the constable with the net was inching closer to the bushes.

"Careful, Rufus," said the first constable, "it might bite."

"Bumblebees don't bite," snapped Eunice.

"Chihuahuas do," said Horace.

Constable Rufus stood next to the quivering bush for a moment before slamming the net down upon it. "I've got it!" he shouted, and dragged the net out, inside of which was contained --

"It is a bumblebee, look at its wings!" cried Eunice triumphantly.

"That's a Komodo dragon, that is!" said the first constable.

"Watch out, it's got fangs!" said Horace, as the dragon began snarl.

"Bob!" wailed Meredith, and Harry was unable to restrain her any longer as she leapt above the fence and into the neighbour's yard. The other Weasley children popped up as well to see the action.

Bob, upon hearing Meredith's voice, turned toward her and decided he'd had enough of the net. He quickly flapped his rather small wings, which nonetheless propelled him off the ground several feet, and opening his snout, let a stream of fire that burnt the net to a crisp. Thus free, he propelled himself past the stunned constable Rufus and into Meredith's arms -- flying with such speed that he literally lifted her off the ground, out of the garden, and down the narrow alley into the street.

"Merry!" shouted Harry, and all of them (children, neighbours, Constables) followed the pair.

Harry's heart was pounding in his chest. Ron and Hermione's street was normally a quiet little thoroughfare, but he could hear a great deal of honking horns quite close by. Visions of a little girl and her dragon lying prone on the pavement flashed through his mind, along with an extremely corked off Angelina. One did not cork off Angelina unless one wished to be rendered impotent (although Harry was beginning to think that might be a good idea).

Harry couldn't see Meredith or Bob when he reached the street, although that might have had something to do with the pile of cars that greeted him. There were at least four of them, fenders bashed in and horns blaring, along with the host of very angry and shouting drivers shaking their fists. "Merry!" he yelled.

"Right here, Uncle Harry," called the little girl's voice, and Harry scrambled over the closest vehicle (a red Mercedes). In the centre of the pile-up, sitting quite contentedly and certainly unharmed, was Meredith. Upon her lap, licking its paws (or talons, Harry wasn't sure what to call them), sat Bob. Bob looked up at Harry, snorted a bit of grey smoke to show his disgust in general for the proceedings, and returned to his licking.

* * *

The back garden next door had cleared out fairly quickly, except for one small boy, who was staring at some of the garden's decor.

Dexter wasn't the least bit concerned about his sister. He knew perfectly well that she could contend with a heavily trafficked street and a run-away dragon -- she was a Weasley, after all.

Besides, these naked cherub statues were positively ... inspiring.

* * *

The street was a shambles of broken cars, tow-away trucks and overly exited children. The Weasleys, suddenly liberated of their overseer by the shouting constables, had begun to run amok, taking a closer look at the various aspects of the accident and generally being out of control.

The frenzied drivers had been momentarily relieved to see that two constables were on the scene of the accident, until they realised that the constables were far more concerned with the proper care of a Komodo dragon than recording the facts of the accident on hand.

Harry, having to bear the brunt of the constable's lecture, as well as realise that his charges were going completely haywire, was growing close to the end of his rope.

"Sir, you must have a permit for that sort of lizard -- look at the size of it, Rufus!"

"I -- I'm sorry, I'll pick one up immediately," stammered Harry. He was struggling to catch the various Weasley children as they ran by, and pop them over the fence and into the Weasley's small front yard -- one-handed of course, as he also struggled to keep Andrea upright.

"You don't take Komodo dragons outside," chided Horace. "Not in weather like this! Blimey, it's bloody November!"

"He just got a bit loose, what with the children playing, is all," said Harry. He grabbed Justin by his collar, and heaved him over the fence. Justin grinned at Harry.

"Great lesson on dragons, Uncle Harry," he said, and ran into the house.

Constable Rufus raised an eyebrow. "Lesson, eh?"

"Heh," said Harry feebly, and caught Meredith as she skipped past. "We'll being putting him back in his box now. Thank you, constables." Harry, holding Andrea and Meredith in his arms, made a beeline for the door. He slammed it shut behind him and leaned against it with a sigh, and immediately found himself surrounded by a cloud of smoke.

"That means Bob likes you," announced Meredith, still holding the dragon in her arms. Harry coughed, and set Meredith down. She immediately scampered into the sitting room, Bob at her heels. Harry slid down the door and sighed again.

"Lovely," he said. He was considering his options when he heard the thundering herd come down the stairs. Harry looked up at them. "Tell me something good, please."

"Uncle Harry," said Bert, scuffing the floor with his shoe. "Dexter's missing."

Harry blinked. "Missing?"

"Yeah," said Bert.

Harry groaned. "Well, look around the house for him. He's got to be around here somewhere."

"I think he's outside still," said Justin. "He never came inside."

Harry stood up. "Well, go look anyway. And stay inside!" he yelled after the thundering herd of children as they scattered.

Harry poked his head out the door -- most of the wrecked cars were gone, and the constables had disappeared as well. The street was more or less deserted. Harry slid out the door and into the front yard. The sun was still shining, and the sky was still blue, and Harry smirked, knowing perfectly well that his picnic would not be ruined by rain.

"Dexter!" he called out.

No answer.

Harry frowned, and stepped into the yard, letting the front door shut behind him. He jostled Andrea, still in his arms. "Dexter! Come on, we're going to the park soon!"

A red-haired head popped over the fence from the neighbour's yard. "Hi, Uncle Harry!" said Dexter, with a very wide grin.

Harry frowned. "How'd you get on the other side of the fence?"

"Climbed," said Dexter. "Really, Uncle Harry."

"Well, come inside," said Harry. "Do you even have your jacket on?"

The boy giggled. "No," said Dexter. "I don't have anything on."

"Right," said Harry. "Hurry up."

Dexter's head disappeared for a moment, while Harry waited for him to walk around the fence. Eunice came out onto her porch and stared pointedly at Harry, who tried to smile back. But Eunice too well remembered the creature in her backyard and sniffed, and looked into her own yard, and screamed.

"That child is naked!" she shrieked, pointing, and then Harry realised that Dexter hadn't been lying. He was completely nude.

Harry grabbed his wand from his pocket and with a quick spell levitated the boy to him (not particularly caring if Eunice saw or not). Dexter kicked out on his approach and Harry's wand went flying into the bushes. He groaned and decided to get into the house before digging for his wand, and reached for the door.

The door was locked.

"Shit," said Harry, and Dexter looked up at him, eyes wide.

"You said a bad word," he said.

"You didn't hear that," snapped Harry.

"Yes, I did!"

Harry groaned and pounded on the door. "Alexa! Bert! Betty! It's Uncle Harry! Let me in?"

"Uncle Harry, what are you doing outside?" came Betty's voice from the other side of the door.

"Never mind, just let me in, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because it's cold out here," said Harry.

"Why?"

"Because it's November."

"Why?"

"Because that's the month that comes between October and December."

"Why?"

"Listen, honey, the sooner you let me in, the sooner we can get to the park."

"I don't want to go to the park, Uncle Harry," said Betty.

"Where do you want to go, Betty?" asked Harry.

"The zoo. I want to see the lions."

Harry sighed. "Fine. We'll go to the zoo. Just let me in, okay?"

"I can't reach the doorknob, Uncle Harry," said Betty, and Harry counted slowly to ten.

"Can you get Alexa to open the door, sweetie?" he said through clenched teeth.

"Okay," said Betty, and he heard her run off. It was several minutes before the door opened. Alexa looked at Harry sceptically, and then looked up at the sky, which was beginning to cloud over.

"Don't say it," said Harry wearily, and shoved the naked Dexter inside.

"Okay," said Alexa, "but if I were you I wouldn't go into the kitchen because you aren't going to like what you find there and if I were you I'd just give up now and Floo Gram to come and help you because you're in really really really really really big trouble."

Harry stared at her for a moment. "Why," he finally asked, "should I not go into the kitchen?"

"Uncle Harry!" came Justin's shout from the kitchen. "The dragon burnt my arm off!"

Harry ran into the kitchen. Alexa turned to Dexter.

"I told him not to go," she said, quite disgusted.

"Grown-ups never listen," agreed Dexter.