Baby Draco

Baby Draco

Chapter 7: A Sentimental Moment

"Any interesting news this morning, Lucius?" Narcissa asked. Her husband put down the Daily Prophet on the dining table disinterestedly. Instantly, the plates in front of him were filled with food and his crystal goblet with lemon juice.

"Mostly irrelevant news," he answered vaguely.

She listened to his words, her long, slender fingers curling around the crystal goblet as a faint smile played on her lips. Then she picked it up with a dainty movement and watched the translucent greenish liquid sparkle against the golden sunlight that poured into the dining hall through the spectacular grand windows across her. Lucius always did have a terrible temper in the morning. Fleetingly, she cast a glance at him from the corner of her eyes.

"You should drink guava instead of lemon in the morning. It's good for your blood pressure," she commented. His mouth twitched in a repressed irritation. Nevertheless, he still managed to stab his breakfast gracefully. "And Lucius, I really don't think you should eat sausage and bacon in the morning. It is very unhealthy."

"I can afford such luxury, dear," he replied tersely. Surprisingly, Narcissa nodded in agreement.

"True. You are what you eat." Her words did not make any sense to him, so he chose to ignore it and change the topic of their conversation to something less trivial. He did not see the way her lips arched upward and her blue eyes twinkled meaningfully.

"Are you going out today?" Lucius asked.

"Yes, I need to see Galletti about altering the dress robes I bought in Bath," she answered while picking her butter knife. An array of jars of various jam appeared in front of her as if on cue. "They're simply too loose on me, and it wouldn't do to be seen at the Lady's Convention like that--"

"Why isn't Draco eating breakfast this morning?" he interrupted suddenly, finally noticing Draco's empty chair at the other end of the long dining table.

"Ah, you know how he likes to eat breakfast in his room," Narcissa told him, transitioning smoothly to the different line of conversation. "And I suppose he didn't expect us to be back so early."

"The boy had better have finished all his homework. I'm very disappointed that he only had twelve OWLs."

"He's second in his class, Lucius. I think he has an excellent chance of being Head Boy next year."

"You're spoiling the boy, Narcissa!" said Lucius, annoyed. His wife did not respond. She spread the marmalade on her wholemeal bread deftly instead.

"I'm sure being the first in his year wouldn't do much good for his image," she replied calmly. "Do you realise that Draco, being the very influential Slytherin that he is, needs to maintain a social profile in Hogwarts?"

Taken aback by her response, Lucius stared at his wife in amazement. He must admit that such a thought had never crossed his mind before, but no matter how valid the argument was, he was still displeased by the fact that a Mudblood performed better than his son.

"And how about his private tuitions?" he asked woodenly, feeling rather apprehensive. Narcissa offered him a saccharine-sweet smile, looking deep into his pale grey eyes at the same time.

"You should let him live in Paris for a month with a poet-crazed werewolf and a history-fanatic vampire. I'm sure Draco will survive," suggested Narcissa. Lucius stared, positive that he had never felt more incredulous with his wife than this very moment. "But of course he will still need a house-elf to stay alive."

"So you would stop his French, Literature and History of Magic tuitions?" he asked flatly.

"Oh, you forgot Potions, dear!" Narcissa added chirpily, "I didn't mention the werewolf and vampire unnecessarily--you know how awfully difficult potions are for them."

Lucius cleared his throat several times, trying to regain his composure. He was starting to wonder why he had decided to marry the infuriating woman.

Narcissa gave him a sidelong glance. "Did the house-elf put too much sugar in your lemon juice, Lucius?" she asked, taking note of his harried expression. Lucius shook his head quietly.

"No, they put honey instead," he answered with a strained voice that nearly cracked. Narcissa looked at him concernedly.

"But that shouldn't happen," she muttered to herself. After a moment of pause, she suddenly beamed. "Ah, I told you not to scream so loud! You did it last night, didn't you? No wonder you're losing your voice now."

Suddenly, Lucius rose from his chair. His silver fork clanged against the porcelain plate as it dropped carelessly on the floor, forgotten as Lucius reached for his cloak. Narcissa winced at the show of unsatisfactory table manners.

"I'm going to the Ministry now," he announced curtly. Flicking his wand in one lazy gesture, he left the dining hall.

Narcissa sipped her guava juice thoughtfully. "Lemon makes you sour in the morning, dear." An unreadable smile flickered across her lips. "And the scream..." She shook her head regretfully.

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The Burrow.

It should have been a romantic evening; the rain was rapping rhythmically against the windowpane, and the cool air was perfect for cuddling under the soft, warm blanket. There was even the sensual jazzy tune from the Hobgoblins in the background. For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy was in bed with a woman - literally. Lying flat on his back, he closed his eyes as another wave of pure bliss washed over his body. His mouth was sucking and nibbling.

Sucking and nibbling the latex nipple of his milk bottle.

It was pathetic, really. The source of his earthly pleasure was the delicious sensation spreading in his stomach soon after he drank the warm liquid. His partner in bed was a Weasley girl, who chose to ignore him for the Potions essay in front of her. Life was unfair, and ultimately so when Snape was able to steal the attention of the only girl in the room without even trying.

'Oh well, he did try.'

"The ingredients for the Draught of Peace," she muttered as she wrote on the piece of parchment, "powdered moonstone... syrup of hellebore... And the characteristic of the final solution is..." She chewed the other end of her quill in the same manner as her brother. "White mist."

Draco coughed as he heard her last answer, spluttering the milk all over his face.

'White mist?! Are all Weasleys really colour-blind? They can't even tell the difference between white and silver!'

"Oh, dear! Be careful," she said, immediately removing the milk bottle from him. The girl took a small towel from her bedside table and then wiped the traces of liquid from his face. She stopped halfway, smiling at him, and then brushed a wisp of hair away from his forehead. "It seems your hair is turning back to normal. Soon it will be silvery blonde again." She furrowed her eyebrows thoughtfully. "Silver," she repeated to herself, "it should be silver mist instead of white!"

Draco felt slightly disappointed that the Weasley girl was not really colour-blind. It would have been a great addition to her list of flaws.

She quickly got rid of her stationery from the bed, sat up, and stretched. The thin white fabric of her worn t-shirt strained from the movement, giving Draco a clear outline of her figure. He really must stop himself from smirking: repeatedly hammering into his mind the fact that the girl was a freckled Gryffindor - and a pathetic Weasley--ought to do the trick.

Devil: But she's still a girl nonetheless.

Draco frowned and shook his head.

'What in the world was that little devil thinking of? Such comment is definitely uncalled for.'

The girl went over to the radio, switching it to several different stations before finally settling her choice on one ('And next we have the wonderful 'Moonlight Serenade' from Celestina Warbeck'). Draco groaned as the very familiar tune started playing.

'Not again!' He decided he had had enough. Draco rolled over and crawled towards the pile of pillows to bury his head. Ginny plopped herself right beside him, a book on her lap. However, Draco soon realised that his effort to avoid the song was in vain, for the girl picked him up and seated him right beside her. And as if that were not enough, she started singing along to the song.

When the moon sat among the stars

Surrounded by a heavenly nimbus

I found you flying outside my window

Waiting for me in that mild June night...

That must have been the cheesiest line he had ever heard in a song. The more he listened to this, the more he questioned his own mother's taste. He really doubted that his mother liked this song due to its similarity to her love story with Father. Lucius, for one, would never, ever wait for someone on a broomstick in an enchanting summer night. If he wanted to seduce a woman, he would most probably Apparate right into her bedchamber and sweep her off her feet then and there. Definitely no singing or reciting poetry session included in the process.

We'll fly off until Night and Twilight kiss again,

Soar like a shooting star into the darkest of the night

Exchange vows and whisper lover's talks,

Then kiss under the shadow of the pale moonlight.

Draco shuddered at the mental image of his parents in their romantic escapade. 'That was really a sickening thought.' Trying to distract himself from the idea, he glanced at the book on the girl's lap. His heart leapt when he realised that he was looking at her diary. Trying to get a better view at the contents, he leaned forward, his nose almost touching the page in the process. However, he was too shocked by what he saw on the paper to be horrified by his undignified position; there was writing inside a big pink heart at the corner of the page.

Harry James Potter, it read. Then to his satisfaction, Draco realised that the name had been scrawled over recklessly by the girl. The writing could still be discerned but it was definitely crossed out.

"Ah, this must have attracted your attention!" she said, pointing at the evidence of her own silliness unabashedly. Draco was taken aback by her reaction. "Well, I used to fancy this boy a lot. I even sent him a singing Valentine in my first year, and I thought that maybe, just maybe..." Ginny laughed a little and shrugged her shoulders. "When he didn't ask me out to the Yule Ball, I cried for two days in my room. Then I got over him."

'You did? I thought you were still blushing at his letter,' Draco thought with a sneer. However, the sneer ended up doing nothing more than contorting his face in a mask of disbelief--an expression that Ginny caught.

"Okay, maybe not really. I still have this tiny bit of a crush on Harry. Who doesn't anyway? He's really charming," she added, trying to show how tiny her feelings for Harry were with her fingers. Draco scowled.

'Don't you realise there are people called Slytherins? I doubt there's anyone in Slytherin fancies Scarhead... well, all right, maybe Goyle does, but I never said he was smart, much less had good taste. Besides, they don't have me for nothing, you know.'

"Well, maybe the Slytherins aren't like that. They have that Malfoy git to worship. I wonder what they see in him," she mused. Draco glowered at her, but she did not seem to notice, turning a page on her diary as if that single action required her complete concentration.

'Excuse me?! What about my wit, my charm, my dazzling good looks? I'll have you know I've been voted Hogwarts' Most Eligible Male three years in a row now! '

"Lavender said he's pretty cute, but I just can't see it. He's an irritating prat. I really hate him."

'Oh, that's rich coming from a person who keeps melting at the sight of me! And you say you can't see my potential, Weasley? It's --You hate me?'

It had to be the shock of knowing a girl could hate his suave personality that had rendered him speechless. Well, maybe not his personality considering he was never friendly to any Gryffindors, but it was really beyond him how someone could not be even slightly impressed by his cool attitude and slick appearance. To top that, this girl considered his number one enemy as charming.

He was too startled by her declaration of hate to realise he was already lying on his back again and the Weasley girl was hovering over him.

"You know, I really like having you here. It's strange, but I feel like you can understand me when I talk to you," she sighed, brushing his smooth, milky cheek with her index finger.

Draco blinked. He was suddenly aware of how the rain was pouring more heavily outside and the droning sound of the radio at the background.

Moonlight can play tricks even upon a dreamer's fancy

But I know it's not the broom ride or the Mooncalf dance

Having you right beside me, singing the Moonlight Serenade

It's the most glorious thing that ever happened

"Sometimes I feel lonely when my brothers are busy with their own things. The twins are always doing their crazy experiments, and Ron is always worried about Harry... even during holidays. But now that you're here, we spend more time together taking care of you," she smiled, and then started to tickle him playfully. Draco noticed that she liked to make him laugh. It irritated him because he was very ticklish. Involuntarily, he giggled. She started laughing as well.

"Oh my, I hope one day I'll have a baby as cute as you!" she exclaimed excitedly, gently pinching both cheeks as the tip of her nose touched his. "The pink hair is pretty gorgeous, actually."

That was when Draco realised that she was extremely close to him. He could smell the sweet apple scent from her skin and her hair. He could see a zillion cinnamon-coloured freckles sprinkled across her cheeks and nose. He could even see that the colour of her eyes were not entirely chocolate brown; there were golden specks around the dark pupils.

So he decided that she was too near for comfort. The feeling of a hundred butterflies floating happily in his stomach must be due to her Weasley germs. His hands crept up and met the smooth wavy locks of hers which hung freely on either side of her heart-shaped face. Draco gave it a tug, trying to make her move away from him.

It was his biggest mistake. Instead of driving her away, he had pulled her even nearer to him and for a few milliseconds, their lips grazed.

A lightning bolt struck, generating a loud thundering noise in the air.

Eyes still wide, Draco froze. All parts of his body turned rigid, including the toes which he had subconsciously curled. The moment their lips touched, he felt his small heart contract abnormally and time stop ticking.

Fortunately, she rolled away and Draco was jolted back to reality.

'I'm dying.' He dropped his hands to his sides and clutched at the chenille bedspread in a desperate attempt to cling to dear life. He was pretty sure that Death would come take his soul any moment now. All the signs were there: the lightning strike, the frozen time, the heart failure... and the Weasley germs. He shut his eyelids tightly, afraid that he might see the frightening face of Death if he opened them.

He waited.

Nothing happened in those three seconds except that his heart started to pump at a rather frantic pace.

And waited.

Now he felt that his face was burning.

'Plague on me. Weasel preys on rats. I'm going to die from the Black Death.'

Laughter rang in the room. Draco readied himself to face the angel of Death. But then he realised that Ginny was the one who had laughed. When he opened her eyes, he found her lying on her side with one shoulder propped on a pillow, looking at him with an amused expression.

"Dragon! You stole my first kiss," she giggled frivolously. "Ssh, don't tell anyone okay? It's pretty embarrassing if people know that Corner had only kissed me on the cheek when we went out."

'I kissed a Weasley.' It felt so surreal, and now he was having that strange feeling burrow into his stomach again. 'Who the hell is Corner anyway?'

"Why is your face so red? Oh no!" she gasped. "Did I accidentally knock you with my teeth? Come, open your mouth."

'It's the Weasley germs,' he decided dazedly. She was tracing his lower lips with her index finger gently, checking to see whether she had indeed hurt him. It was there again, that odd tingling feeling. But this time it felt as if he had been electrocuted by Blast-Ended Skrewts all over...

She looked relieved when she found nothing wrong with him. Her eyes moved up, looking at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

"Oh, it's time for you to sleep," she said as she picked him up and carried him to his cot. Ginny dropped another kiss on his head. "Hm, your hair smells and feels nice. Good night, Dragon!"

He was in a trance-like state after she left him on his cot; his mind was almost blank. 'It must be the Weasley germs,' he repeated, running the sentence through his mind several times. 'I must remember to escape from this place as soon as possible and go straight to St. Mungo's to get myself sanitised.'

His eyes fell on his ebony wand that lay on the side of his bed and the idea struck him. He could not escape from the place if he had to rely on other people to come and get him when they realised that he had been missing. The only way was to do it himself; he must re-learn talking.

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Back at Malfoy Manor.

The oak door sprang open, and Narcissa found her husband standing in the doorway, looking a bit wound up. He had not changed the robe he had been wearing since morning, a clear sign that he was not in a very good mood. The new house-elf, who was giving Narcissa a pedicure, cowered at the sight of him.

"M-m-master!" she squeaked. Narcissa waved her hand dismissively at the house-elf.

"I'll call you again, Libby," she instructed.

"No. Keep the house-elf," ordered Lucius sternly. The house-elf let out a frightened whimper. She quickly jumped up and started to bang her head against the nearest bed post.

"Libby, come back here and paint my toenails first," said Narcissa. There was a slight tinge of irritation in her voice. The house-elf looked at her master and the mistress uncertainly; her eyes were wide with apprehension. Trembling, she finally nodded and tottered back to resume her task. Lucius glowered.

"Where is my son?" he asked. Libby winced hard at the vicious tone of his voice. Narcissa tilted her head in a languorous movement and watched her husband with a steady gaze.

"You are no Zeus, dear. May I remind you that Draco is also my son?" she retorted icily. Undeterred, he strode to the adjacent side of the four-poster bed.

"I'm not asking you, wife," he said through his gritted teeth. Narcissa signalled Libby to stop applying the nail varnish. It was useless anyway, as the house-elf kept trembling. He glared at the poorly clad servant again.

"Now, you useless creature, where is Draco?" he demanded, narrowed eyes glinting dangerously. Libby's big round eyes started to glaze.

"Y-y-young M-m-master is at Master Zabini's. Y-young M-m-master said M-m-master has given permission to Young Master," Libby stuttered. Lucius stood frozen, staring at the house-elf in disgust. His hold around the serpent stick in his hand tightened.

"Stupid house-elf!" he spat. "I told you not to let Draco out of the Manor!" Libby looked aghast. She leapt up and started banging her head against the wall furiously.

"Stupid Libby! Bad Libby!" the house-elf shouted repeatedly.

"Libby, can you leave the room and do whatever that is you're doing elsewhere?" interrupted Narcissa. Libby looked up, eyes wet with tears of remorse. "Leave now!" Narcissa snapped curtly. Libby nodded frantically and then Disapparated before Lucius could stop her.

"You know it will be useless to stop the punishment, don't you, Narcissa?" Lucius asked scathingly. "You are really too soft."

Narcissa stood and rounded the bed with a cat-like grace, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "You enjoyed that didn't you, Lucius? A sadistic pleasure, I suppose."

Lucius stepped back as she advanced towards him like a hunter and its prey. Narcissa was really an unpredictable woman. He had expected her to mock him again; instead, she pulled out the diamond-ornamented chignon pin that held her hair in place, letting the lustrous golden mane tumble freely down her shoulders. Lucius swallowed with difficulty. He was suddenly reminded why he had decided to marry her.

"There's something else that I enjoy more," he responded. His throat turned dry as her manicured fingers played with the button of his collar. Narcissa looked at him from under her long lashes. If he did not know any better, he would have thought his wife a Veela.

"Oh, really? Do you realise that Draco is a big boy now?" she said while unbuttoning his collar with her tapered fingers. The other hand caressed the lapel of his robe suggestively.

"Of course. That doesn't mean that we have to stop disciplining him," he stated. His stormy grey eyes darkened.

"Well, yes. I agree on that," she said matter-of-factly. Her hands were now flat on his chest. His lips pressed into a tight line, annoyed that she had stopped the delicious torture she had been inflicting upon him. "But locking him up in the Manor while we're away for a week is really too much." He twirled a lock of her hair around his index finger in an effort to re-ignite the fire in her.

"I'd rather have him locked up that you worry about him," he whispered breathily, his thumb moved to trace her jaw line before tilting her chin. But she suddenly moved away and turned her back on him.

"He can take care of himself, Lucius. You must give him a chance," she said, sounding slightly unhappy with him. Lucius took a deep calming breath and then stepped forward. He cupped her shoulders and pulled her towards him.

"I need to call on Zabini now," he told her patronisingly. She took a small step closer so that her warm body was now pressed against him. Lucius took in a sharp intake of breath. His wife was definitely a Slytherin. 'A Slytherin vixen.'

"Now, now, Lucius. Don't you think we'd better wait till tomorrow?" she asked throatily. 'Damn her.'

"No, I must ask him tonight," he answered, not sounding as firm as he intended to. He knew his defence was crumbling. 'If she does more than that...'

The familiar notes from 'Moonlight Serenade' started to play softly at the background. She took both of his hands, releasing his hold on her shoulders, and whirled around.

"Have you forgotten what you were like when you were at his age, dear?"

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The Burrow

It was a bright and beautiful morning. Ginny had had such a restful sleep the previous night that she had woken up before her alarm clock started blaring - a rare occurrence for her. She curled up beneath the worn, cosy blanket, enjoying the pleasant feeling of such a simple activity. Hugging the stuffed dragon tightly, she waited for the baby to wake up and make some noise, as he always did in the morning. Dragon normally woke up earlier than her, but he seemed to sleep soundly today.

Eyes closed, she became very aware of how quiet the house was in the morning. It was so eerily quiet that she could probably hear the sound of a pin being dropped to the floor. She waited for the sound of the twins' alarm clock, but it never came. They must have woken up earlier as well. However, she could not even hear them Apparating into the kitchen. Ron's alarm was also not blaring, but the sound of creaking floorboards (usually heard when Ron was up and walking around) was strangely absent. She strained her ears, trying to listen and hear whether or not they were already eating breakfast. There was nothing except the deafening silence and the sound of her own breathing. 'Dragon!'

Alarmed, Ginny sprang to her feet, ignoring the blanket that slid down to the floor. Her eyes darted frantically to the white cot where the baby slept. The blood drained away from her face.

The cot was empty.

==================TBC===================