This was a small drabble written for the Dramione Fanfiction Forum Group on Facebook. They have Drabble Challenges every week, and this was based on this weeks prompt. It was based around family and had to include the words 'baby bottle', 'Daddy said I could', and 'quiet park'. It also had to be between 100 and 1000 words, which I nailed at exactly 1000. No easy feat, let me tell you. :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize! I make no money from this! :)
Read and enjoy!
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"So, how have things been?"
Hermione smiled at her mother-in-law as they strolled through the weak morning sunshine. The fall breeze ruffled her emerald scarf and she glanced down to adjust the tiny baby bundled against her chest.
"It's been lovely, despite the sleepless nights. This little bugger had us up most of the night, but Draco has been a big help."
Narcissa grinned to herself. She'd raised her son to be a wonderful father-exactly the opposite of Lucius.
"You had an appointment at St. Mungo's last week, didn't you? How did that go?"
Her daughter in law's face lit up as they approached the quiet park they'd found on their previous walks through the Muggle village near Malfoy Cottage. "Scorpius is right on target, if not a little ahead as far as growth goes. He's still not sleeping as well as we'd like him to, but it's still normal."
The woman stopped and Narcissa produced a blanket larger than what should have fit in her handbag, spreading it over the lightly frosted grass. She settled down gracefully as Hermione unbuckled the ingenious carrying device she wore Scorpius in and handed the sleeping babe to his grandmother who gratefully settled the tiny bundle in her arms.
"So what are you and Lucius planning for Christmas?"
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"Lyra, I don't think this is a good idea."
Draco recoiled slightly at the glare his daughter shot up at him. He knew it was ridiculous to be cowed by such a tiny 5 year old, but she was certainly her mother's daughter. And her tiny little fist hurt just as much as her mother's had in third year.
"Daddy, you said we could. And Mommy will love these! They're her favorite!"
He fought to hide his smirk as Lyra stomped her tiny socked foot, a spray of flour poofing around her leg. Draco knelt down, uncaring that his previously pristine black trousers were now creased and flecked with white pastry flour.
"You're right, they are her favorite. Why don't we let Mags make the biscuits and you can help her?"
Lyra scowled at her father, her fist tightening on the whisk caked with thick dough. Her dirty blonde curls bounced in their haphazard ponytail as she shook the utensil at her father, spraying them both with bits of lumpy, buttery dough.
"No! You said that we could make them! It needs to be special!"
Despite the whining tone in her voice and the greasy bits of batter in his hair, Draco knew better than to try to resist his daughter's patented pleading stare. With a deep sigh of resignation, he stood to his full height and turned back to the kitchen counter littered with various ingredients and utensils.
"Okay, then Little Chef. Tell me what to do first."
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"We're back!"
Hermione and Narcissa glanced at each other warily as they heard a muffled yelp and a high pitched giggle.
"Draco?"
"Mum?!"
Hermione rolled her eyes, wondering what new mischief Lyra had conned her husband into. "Yes, Love, your Mum came back for a spot of tea. It got a bit nippy so I invited her back to warm up and visit with you a bit."
"Okay, just-uh...have a seat in the sitting room and…"
A tinkling crash echoed through the cottage and Draco cursed colorfully.
"Daddy! Put a Galleon in the jar!" Lyra commanded with a giggle. "Go to the sitting room, Mummy and we'll bring you biscuits!"
"Lyra, I need to get a bottle for your brother. And Mummy's losing her patience a bit."
Narcissa stifled a chuckle as she followed the younger witch into the well appointed sitting room. She had a feeling Draco would be feeling Hermione's wrath very soon as another tinkling crash sounded from the direction of the kitchen, followed by another round of muffled swearing.
Hermione glanced balefully at Narcissa, her lips pulled down into a frown as she slumped backward into the plush cushions of the sofa. "Is there any possible chance that I'm not going to be stuck cleaning up whatever 'surprise' they've concocted for me?"
"Don't you worry, dear." The elder Lady Malfoy patter her daughter-in-law's knee before scooping up her sleeping grandson and propping him against her shoulder. "I'll make sure those rascals clean up every last bit of whatever they've done. And they won't be pawning it off on Mags, believe you me."
Narcissa watched as the minutes and Hermione's eyes drifted closed in the quiet of the sitting room, undisturbed by the occasional shuffle or creak from the kitchen.
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"Mummy?"
Hermione slowly drifted to awareness, though she was certain she must be dreaming. Her normally immaculate daughter was covered, head to toe, in...flour. And butter. And biscuit dough. But with a huge smile on her face as she held out a plate of what looked like her favorite chocolate chip biscuits.
"Oh, Lyra! Did you make these for me?"
The tiny girl nodded happily and Hermione felt her eyes fill with tears. "Mummy, no! Don't cry! Daddy said I could!"
Narcissa chuckled and Draco scooped his daughter up and plopped himself beside his wife. She noticed for the first time he was just as covered with bits of cooking shrapnel as their daughter was and she couldn't stifled the bubble of laughter.
"Oh, darling, I'm not crying because I'm sad. I'm crying because I'm happy. I love you and Daddy so much!" Her slender arms wrapped around the dynamic cooking duo, nearly crushing the biscuits between them.
"Wait, wait!" Hermione and Draco pulled back as they stared wide eyed at Lyra, whose voice held a slightly panicked edge. "What about Scorp?!"
The trio glanced over to Narcissa on the other end of the couch. She held the ridiculously ostentatious gem encrusted baby bottle Lucius had insisted upon as Scorpius gulped his meal heartily.
"Oh, I love all of you. More than you could possibly imagine."