Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This story is purely for fun and fan fiction. I don't own it or get anything from it.
Ratings: R (for adult language, sexual content, a bit of violence) - DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 OR IF CERTAIN SEXUAL CONTENTS AND LANGUAGE BOTHERS YOU!
Pairings: HG/DM
BEWARE: HBP SPOILER
Summary: It's been three years since the Golden Trio's graduation. While Harry and Ron work for the Ministry, Hermione and Ginny have opened their own childcare education business and have become very successful in the Wizarding World. Voldemort has been defeated at the end of their 7th year and all the Horcruxes have been destroyed. Life has, once again, become placid and nearly uncomplicated. That is, until the old foe Draco Malfoy moves back into the picture, a daddy of a three year old son, looking for a pre-school teacher. Can Hermione cope? Can they ever get along? Can they change their destiny?
Taming A Dragon
1. Who's the Daddy?
"I hope I'll never have to step into a place like this, again," the younger of two men voiced, pulling his face into a sneer, reciprocated only by a grunt from the other.
It was an odd sight to watch those two approach the big glass doors of the Wiltshire General Hospital. The older one looking grimly through the long black strands of his greasy hair, and the young man possessing the most beautiful platinum blond hair anyone could imagine. In fact this hair was probably the most salient feature of his and everybody that was anybody in his world knew instantly which family he was part of.
Their attire, on the other hand, was thrown together as if they had just escaped a dress-up party.
The greasy haired gentleman with the trademark sneer, wore a pair of denim jeans and a pinstriped suit jacket over a Hawaiian shirt, and the younger smug faced looking one sporting black slacks, a white dress shirt, a green tie (with the words "who's the daddy?" printed on it) and a leather biker jacket over it. It is unnecessary to mention that their shoes made the whole ensemble appear even more ridiculous – the aforementioned wearing cowboy boots, while the latter had his feet encased in a pair of Nike's.
"I thought you knew more about muggle attire, Professor. Perhaps it would have been better for me to organize the clothes. This," he grabbed his shirt while looking down at himself, "looks ridiculous," he voiced angrily, knowing that the tie was no doubt the special touch of the sarcastic mind currently escorting him to the muggle hospital.
"Well, Mr. Malfoy, if you are so much better in Muggle Studies, you should have known that a muggle born woman requires a different type of contraceptive than a witch, hence we wouldn't be in this, as you so nicely phrased, ridiculous situation," the older man snarled at his godson while grabbing a hold of the door handle.
A derisive snort came from the younger man. "Professor Snape, look at all those muggles around us! We stick out like a pair of sore thumbs, if you ask me. I don't think we are blending in very well."
The older man scowled while pushing the younger man into the doorway.
"I didn't ask you, now did I? As it is, I'm taking a high risk to escort you here to this place. Now hold your mouth and hurry up!" The older man hissed and walked with long strides to the reception desk.
A young nurse looked up from her monitor as both of them approached.
"Welcome to Wiltshire General, how may I be of assistance?" she asked with a squeaky voice while looking both over with a smirk.
"Yes, we are here to see a patient in room 205," asked the young man, glancing unsure from the nurse to the professor and back.
"Name?" she enquired with a smile.
"I'm Draco Malfoy!" he answered.
At this the nurse laughed out loud and shook her head.
"No, no, no. I need the name of the patient you are here to see," she explained quickly.
Draco was clearly put of by this, but kept him self in check.
After giving her the name, both men were directed toward an array of elevators.
Snape came to a halt in front of the shiny metal doors looking puzzled.
"I know how to operate one. They are muggle transportation closets. I rode one in a muggle store before." Draco smirked at his professor while rounding him and pushed one of the buttons on the wall between the doors.
Professor Snape glanced impatiently from the door to Draco.
"Well, looks like nothing is happening," he growled.
"Patients, Professor, it should arrive soon," explained Draco, not surprised at this time by the lack of Snape's knowledge. Draco disliked muggles as much as his Professor standing next to him, but he had always had a knack for exploring new territory.
A "ding" sounded and the elevator doors slid to the side.
Draco walked in and motioned for his Professor to follow.
Snape put cautiously a foot forward and then stepped fully inside, while Draco pushed another button and the doors closed.
"It's all run by eceltrissy or something the like," Malfoy mouthed with an air of superiority. "Watch, when the doors open it'll be a complete different floor."
The "ding" sounded again the closet slowed until it came to a halt and opened the doors.
"See! It's very similar to the Ministry of Magic ones," Malfoy said and stepped out into a hall much smaller than the area they had come from.
"Very interesting, Mr. Malfoy," Snape answered in a bored, slightly sarcastic tone. "Too unfortunate, however, that you didn't put as much interest into your potions as you do for muggle contraptions. You could have improved your NEWTS grade considerably," he sneered while they walked down the hall.
"I didn't like the teacher they gave us, after you killed Dumbledore and vanished. She was a waste of space, that woman . . . called herself a professor for potions . . . more a professor for the art of liquor testing, I'd say . . . " Draco said, at the same time he was scanning the doors for number 205.
"Here it is!" he said coming to a stop. Draco took a deep shuddering breath. Suddenly his stomach plummeted and his heart did a few summersaults. What the hell was wrong with him? He was normally not that giddy. For years he had trained himself into complete obedience in mind and body; a preparation necessary to join the ranks of deatheaters at the time. And now he was a shaky right old mess, more scared of what he would find behind that door, than standing in the presence of an angry Dark Lord, ready to receive the Cruciatus.
"So that'll be it, huh?" he asked looking uncertain into the older man's eyes.
Snape could sense Malfoy's hesitation and nodded while he put a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder.
"It's for the best, Draco. I will be waiting here," was all he said before opening the door.
The hospital room Draco entered wasn't very large, but it certainly looked brighter than the hallway. His eyes roamed around. Two beds were standing on either side of a large window, but only one bed was occupied.
An older nurse turned around with a bundle in her arm and smiled broadly.
"Oh, here is the new daddy, ready to pick you up," she exclaimed in an annoying sing song voice, before turning back to the young mother and handing her the bundle of blue blankets. "I knew instantly that you are the father, those piercing eyes gave it away. Like father, like son," she added.
"Here is your baby, young lady, and I'll leave you to your family. Push the button if you are dressed and ready to go, ok?" the nurse instructed the young mother sitting on the bed, who nodded with a faint smile on her lips.
Before the nurse left the room, she turned briefly to Draco.
"Your wife is still tired from it all. Most of our young mothers don't request a wheelchair, but if you'd like I can get one to wheel her to the main entrance," she said with a questioning expression.
"That won't be necessary," Draco answered, confused as to what a wheel chair was, but glad when the nurse finally left, closing the door behind her.
"Wife," Draco mumbled almost inaudible. "She's not my wife."
"What are you doing here, Draco?" The young mother asked after taking her eyes of the baby boy she was currently nursing. 'His baby, his son', Draco thought absentmindedly.
Her eyes widened in amusement. "And, what are you wearing." She couldn't suppress a smirk.
Draco stepped forward cautiously, all the while staring in wonder at the interaction of mother and son. The baby's hand reached out to grasp the mother's finger while suckling greedily on her breast.
Draco shook his head slightly and composed himself. He would not allow for himself to go soft now, would he?
"Well?" The young woman urged while watching him curiously.
"I don't suppose you have changed your mind, Draco?" she asked next.
With a resolute expression on his face he stepped closer and pulled out his wand.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he whispered, lifting his wand at the woman who stared at him alarmed.
"What are you doing, Draco?" she uttered before everything around her turned black.
"Obliviate! . . . Stupefy!"