"What do you mean, you think she's sleeping with him?"

Draco set his scotch glass down on his desk so hard that the crystal thudded resonantly through the dark mahogany.

From across the room, Blaise sighed heavily.

"Look, Draco. It's not like there's anything to be done about it. Don't you think that you ought to—"

Draco glared at him murderously. "Don't tell me what I ought to do, Blaise. You can't possibly understand what this means when I—"

"Da?"

Draco closed his eyes slowly and exhaled. He turned to face the tiny speaker, a girl of about six, who stood barefoot in the door to his study, leaning sleepily against the frame.

"Why are you out of bed, Nora?" he asked sternly, lifting an eyebrow with obvious displeasure.

The child gave him a practiced pout. "Who are you talking to?" she asked, leaning into the room. Her wavy golden hair cascaded over her shoulder as she shyly bent her head around the doorframe. "Oh, hullo, Mr. Zabini," she said with a timid smile.

Blaise smiled. "Hello, Nora."

"Eleanora," Draco called, making the girl jump. "Answer my question."

She hugged herself, ignoring him and playing idly with the long ribbons trimming her white flannel nightgown.

"Eleanora," he repeated. "Why are you out of bed?"

She finally looked up at him with a pair of gigantic eyes. "I couldn't sleep," she said mournfully.

Draco sighed. "You realize I can see right through that, don't you?"

"See through what?" she asked with an knowing smile.

Blaise chuckled as Draco folded his arms. "Someone is her father's daughter," he said, standing. "I think I'll leave you to deal with this little minx."

Draco nodded pensively. "But you'll look into things for me?"

"I'd rather not, Draco. It's probably nothing, and you need to let it go," Blaise began, but Draco silenced him with a look. "Fine. I'll ask some questions."

He made a half bow to Nora, who was still doing her best to look angelic. She dipped him a curtsy, scooping her nightgown up as she dropped her chin.

"Ever the little lady, hm?" Blaise picked up his cloak and wand from a chair by the mantle.

"I don't know any little ladies who run about hours after their nannies have tucked them into bed," Draco said, throwing a frown toward the doorway. "Take care, Blaise."

The sound of the Floo was still whooshing through the fireplace when Draco rounded on his daughter.

"Can't sleep? I've heard better," he said with a smirk, settling himself on a large couch adjacent to the fire. "Come on." He patted the deep brown leather. "Sit."

Nora timidly crossed the floor of her father's study, and then climbed onto the couch next to him.

"I really can't sleep," she whispered, tucking her bare toes inside of her long nightgown as she curled up under his arm.

Draco idly brushed her long, golden hair away from her face. "And why is that?" he asked.

"I can't fall asleep without a story," she said, still whispering. "I have to hear a princess story."

Draco leaned back onto the couch. "I thought Miss Lake told you stories before bed," he said, closing his eyes.

Nora was quiet for a long moment. "I have to hear a Mummy-Princess story," she said slowly. "Miss Lake doesn't know any."

Draco sat upright so quickly that he jostled his daughter out of her comfortable cocoon. "What do you mean," he asked deliberately, "by 'a Mummy-Princess' story?"

Nora looked up at him with wide eyes. "You know," she breathed, as though revealing a great secret, "ones about Mum, when she was a princess?"

Draco coughed. "When your mother was a princess," he repeated slowly.

Nora nodded, watching him expectantly.

"And who was the prince?" he asked, trying to keep the sarcasm that threatened his tone at bay.

Nora studied his face for a long moment. "There isn't a prince," she said righteously. "Princesses don't always need a man around to save their tails."

Draco laughed. "Right. Of course they don't," he said, ruffling her hair. "Especially not according to your mother." His smile faded and he looked down at his small daughter ruefully. "But sometimes, I think, it's nice to have someone around to save you."

"Tell me," Nora insisted, nestling her head against his chest. "Tell me how mum met a prince."

Draco sighed. "Well, I'm afraid it doesn't start with a prince." He paused and bit his lip, not realizing how much his expression was mirrored in the face snuggled into him. "It begins, I'm sorry to say, with a dragon."

Nora twisted her head up in surprise. "A dragon, Da? Really?"

"Yes, really," he said, smoothing her wavy hair over her ear. "This dragon wasn't very kind to the princess, you see."

"He wasn't? But the princess was so beautiful!" Eleanora exclaimed, pulling herself up out of Draco's lap again.

He gently pushed her back so that she was once again cuddled up next to him. "If you keep interrupting my story, I'll never tell it, and then you shall go to bed a very sorry girl, indeed," he admonished.

"Sorry Da," she whispered, pressing her cheek against his chest. "Tell it."

Draco leaned his head back on the sofa and thought for a long moment. "The princess was very beautiful," he said slowly. "In fact, she was one of the most beautiful women that the dragon had ever seen. But the princess kept court in the Land of the Lions, and the dragon was the monarch in the Kingdom of Snakes – and the two were bitter enemies."

"Did they fight in wars?"

"No," Draco chuckled. "But they competed in Quidditch, and you know how people can get about Quidditch."

Nora grinned. "Like Uncle Ron," she giggled.

"You have no idea," Draco said, smiling down at her. "So the dragon lived among the snakes. He was the greatest snake of them all, of course: strong, cunning and powerful. All the other snakes – and even some of the people from the other nearby lands – did whatever he told them to do."

"Was he good at Quidditch?" Eleanora asked eagerly. "Better than Uncle Ron?"

Draco scoffed. "Far, far better than your uncle."

"Wow," Eleanora whispered. "He must've been great."

"Oh, yes, the dragon was great. But he wasn't kind."

Draco paused for a long moment, absently stroking his daughter's hair again.

"Da? The story?" she said, blinking expectantly.

"Right. Er…yes. The princess lived in the Land of the Lions. The people in that land were often extremely obnoxious, and they despised the snakes. And the snakes despised them. They were strange creatures, these Lion dwellers. There was a beast with giant teeth and frizzy hair named Hermy and a spineless goon named Shortfront. Oh, and their leader was a speckle-eyed monster, named Hairy Potface."

Eleanora looked up at him indignantly. "I thought Princess Guinevere was in charge!" she objected.

"Princess—" Draco repeated, puzzled. "Oh, yes. Guinevere. Very nice, Gin," he muttered. "No, Princess Guinevere wasn't in charge. She was very young, not much older than you. And she was in love with Potface."

"Was he the prince?" Nora cried eagerly.

Draco snorted. "Hardly."

"Did he save her from the evil dragon, then?"

Draco laid his head back, feeling more than a little self-satisfied. "Oh, no. It was quite the opposite." He pursed his lips and frowned. "Actually, in many ways, Princess Guinevere saved the dragon."

Eleanora sighed proudly. "I knew it," she said with a smirk. "Mum can do anything."

Draco checked that she couldn't see his face before allowing himself a very satisfying eye roll.

"That wasn't for awhile still," he said, a bit sullenly. "At this point in the story, Princess Guinevere was still following the Hairy Potface around everywhere. She even wrote him strange love poems and practiced writing "Mrs. Princess Guinevere Potface." One time all of her books fell out of her bag in the hallway and the dragon picked one up and saw that she had written that all over her Potions book."

"The dragon saw it?"

"Yes. He showed his friends and they all mocked her as well."

Nora bit her lip. "Poor Princess. I hate being mocked, too."

Draco pulled her upright and met her eyes. "Who is mocking you?" he demanded.

She sighed. "Sometimes Rose does. But…"

"But what?" Draco asked, his eyes glinting fiercely.

"But…I told her that if she didn't say I was the best flyer of all the cousins, then I'd tell Aunt Hermione what happened to all of her hair cream. And, well," she paused, flustered, then dropped her voice to a whisper. "I told her to get her head out of her…arse." She looked up sheepishly.

Draco grinned and tousled the hair that he'd been smoothing for the better part of an hour. "And where did you learn such a naughty thing to say, hm?" he asked, completely failing to hide the amusement in his voice.

Nora, clearly sensing no danger, offered him a hesitant smile. "Uncle Ron and Quidditch again," she said, hunching her shoulders up as she smirked impishly. "So I knew it was bad. And that it would make Rose would shut up."

"Yes," said Draco pompously. "No one mocks a Malfoy."

Eleanora shook her head proudly. "Nope. No one mocks a Malfoy." She yawned so wide that her face nearly split.

"To bed with you, I think," Draco said, arching an eyebrow.

His daughter looked up at him in horror. "You can't leave the story there! The dragon was mocking mum! Did she defeat him? Did she say...arse…too?"

Draco met her eyes guiltily. "No. When the dragon mocked Princess Guinevere, she cried."

Her face changed to one of open-mouthed distress. "He was unkind," she said sadly.

"Yes," he said, nodding. "He was downright cruel."

He sighed. "But Princess Guinevere didn't seem to mind too much. The dragon lived in a different kingdom, and she had plenty of weird friends from the Land of the Lions. As she grew older, she grew more and more beautiful. Pretty soon, she didn't need to follow Hairy Potface around anymore, because he started following her around."

Draco stopped and looked down at his daughter, his face deadly serious. "And you know what Hairy Potface did while he followed your mum all around the land?"

"What?" Nora breathed, wide-eyed.

"He drooled!" Draco proclaimed, tickling his daughter until she cackled mirthfully in his arms.

"Now, bed," he announced. "And no complaining, or I'm not going to tell you the rest. We've stayed up so late that it's practically mybedtime, and your oh-so-independent mother will have my head if she finds out."

Eleanora arched a petite eyebrow, as though ready to challenge his order, but her rebellion was silenced by a much more practiced brow.

Draco scooped up his baby girl, settling her head on his shoulder as he lifted her into his arms. He carried her down the corridor to her room and laid her on her unmade bed, carefully pulling the lacy coverlet up to her chin.

"Goodnight, princess," he whispered, kissing her softly on the forehead.

"Night, Da," she said, sleepiness etched into her words.

"Wait, Da?" she called as Draco carefully closed the door to within an inch of the frame.

"Go to sleep, Eleanora," he said sternly.

"But Da," she insisted, waiting until he stuck his head back into the room. "Am I going back to Mum's tomorrow or the day after?"

Draco's jaw shifted slightly as he answered, "Tomorrow, darling."

He closed the door and returned to his study, where he wound the clock and thoughtfully poured himself another glass of scotch.

Then he resumed his lonely seat in front of the fire, finished the decanter, and blinked back emotions that were far, far too strong for his liking.

A/N: This story was written for the DG Forum Fic Exchange - Spring 2010. Manifold thanks to Kim (Boogum) for superb beta-reading skills, particularly with such a dialog-heavy piece.

Harriet's (Dorrmouse) Prompt:

Basic outline: "Daddy, tell me a story..." Ginny and Draco are married and they have a child together. Preferably a girl, but I could live with it being a boy. One night, their child asks to hear the story of how they came to be together. Draco begins the story, starting it from when they were at Hogwarts together. The child likes the story so much he/she asks to hear more each night, so the tale of how Draco and Ginny came to be, begins. Each night either Draco or Ginny tell an installment of their story to their child, realising they were truly meant to be together.

Must haves: The story must be told as a bedtime story to their child, and both Draco and Ginny must tell a part of the story separately to their child each night. They must tell it with a fairytale spin on it, you know, the kind of stuff a child wants to hear. (Eg; Ginny as a princess, Draco saving her, that sort of thing.) Their child must be young for obvious reasons. I'd like Draco and Ginny to incorporate their friends into the story, such as Luna being a fairy godmother or something. I want it to be humorous, and tolerable amounts of fluff are allowed.

This portion of Dialogue must be included:
"So, where did Daddy finish the story off last night?"

"He'd just saved you from a speckle-eyed monster, who was as big as a giant and as stupid as a troll."

Ginny fought back a laugh. "Oh yes, I remember. What else did Daddy say about the monster?"

"It was called Hairy Potface, and liked to drool all over you."

No-no's: No angst. Small children don't like to hear angst! No Smut.

Rating range: K-T

Bonus points: Blaise in there somewhere, playing a part in the story.
Ginny describing Pansy as 'The Evil Hag' in the story.
Ginny catching Draco acting out a portion of the story to their child.