Chapter 4

A/N: I am using 'oooaaannn' to symbolise a child's crying; informing you so that you don't get confused.

oooaaannn

Remus stirred in his sleep. His ears perked at the faint noise. Hearing nothing more, his body relaxed.

OooAaaNnn

Another cry … this time louder. Remus definitely registered that even in his half-asleep half-awake condition. That's the price for being a werewolf; your senses are too heightened.

OOOAAANNN

Remus shot up from his half-lying position, eyes wide. He tried to hear any disturbance … none. Was he dreaming?

He took the view in. Sirius was lying on the floor, using his legs as pillow. James was crouched against the sofa in a very uncomfortable position. There were bottles of fire-whiskey lying all around.

'That is hurting,' Remus thought, grabbing his head with his hands.

OOOAAANNN

This time he was sure of the cry. Baby's cry. From upstairs.

Hermione.

The realisation made Remus stand up immediately, causing Sirius' head to drop to the floor with a sickening 'thud'.

He didn't hear Sirius' 'Ouch!' as he rushed upstairs.

There in the room was lying little Hermione, crying to get attention.

Remus stood there watching to girl, uncertain of what to do. Is she hungry? Or her diaper needs a change? Or something else?

If only his head stops throbbing, he would be able to think straight. Note to self: never ever get drunk.

Deciding that the last time Hermione ate was twelve hours before, Remus picked up the girl and took her straight to kitchen.

Putting her in a chair, Remus looked around. "I don't think you drink tea or coffee or pumpkin juice in morning, do you, little one?"

"oooaaannn"

"That means no," Remus continued. "And if you have Sirius' habit of starting the day with butterbeer you are not getting any." He added sternly.

Silence.

Remus turned around to find the girl looking expectantly at him.

"Oh no," Remus muttered, "She has his habits … even before meeting him."

After another minute or two, Remus finally turned to the girl with a cup in his hand. "Chocolate milk!" He announced, placing it in front of her.

The girl stared at the cup in front of her and then him. Cup. Him. Cup. Him.

"Come on," Remus encouraged, "Go on. Have it. I make delicious chocolate drink." Remus licked his lips. Maybe one for him wouldn't be bad.

You need coffee, idiot. Black Coffee.

Hermione still hadn't picked her cup, though she was eyeing it hungrily.

"Why aren't you drinking?" Remus asked her.

"Dink," Hermione said in her baby voice.

"Er," Remus was confused. "That's what I said – drink."

Hermione pointed to the cup and then to him and then to herself before saying. "Dink me."

"Drink you?" He was sure she didn't mean that. Uncertainly, he picked the cup and took a sip. "There. See. It's easy."

Hermione's response was a cry.

Remus hastily put the cup back on table. "Hey … shsh.."

"Me dink mik," Hermione said, tearfully.

"Er—yeah. That's what I am asking you to do. I even showed you how to do it."

"She can't pick and drink from a big coffee mug, Moony," Sirius drawled from the doorway.

Remus looked up at him, questioningly. "Er—why?"

"Look at her size and yours," Sirius said, taking a seat beside Hermione. "With such a big cup, you will have to feed her. Give me a spoon."

Remus obliged and Sirius started feeding Hermione with spoon. Half-way through the feeding, Sirius sniffed.

"What?" Remus asked before repeating the action.

"Ewww," Sirius and Remus cried together before getting away from the source.

Who was currently enjoying playing with milk and spoon.

Hermione.

"I think she needs a diaper change," Sirius said solemnly. "Go ahead. Do it."

Remus' eyes widened in fear. "W-what?"

"Diaper change," Sirius repeated slowly as if talking to a two-year old.

"I d-don't know h-how to do it," Remus said, eyeing the happy girl spilling milk all over the table.

"It's simple," Sirius said airily. "Remove the old one. Put it in dustbin. Put on the new one. Simple."

"That was great help," Remus said sarcastically. "Thanks."

"No problems," Sirius said, thumping Remus on back. "Go on then."

Remus glared at Sirius. "I'm not doing it. You do it if you know how to."

Now, it was Sirius' turn to look fearful. "Err—I will go wake James up."

And off he went.

Within seconds he was back in the kitchen, dragging a sleepy James with him. Remus noticed the diaper bag in his hand.

"Get to work," Sirius ordered.

"Goya sweep," James mumbled, sitting beside Hermione and resting his head on table.

Hermione crackled. Happily, she poured teaspoons full of milk on James, occasionally tapping it on his temple.

"Ow," James cried, after a forceful hit. He glared at Hermione, who immediately stopped.

And then he sniffed.

Remus marvelled at the speed with which James shot up from his chair.

"She's smelling," James pointed out.

"We know," Remus said.

"And you're here to solve the problem." Sirius shoved a diaper into James hands.

"Why me?" James asked, glaring at the two of them.

"Because," Sirius started, but stopped. What should he say? That he is ex-father.

"Because you know how to," Remus finished lamely.

An awkward silence ensued.

"Er—right," James said, moving towards Hermione. She was again smiling and playing with milk. Seeing James moving towards her, she immediately dropped her 'toys' and lifted her arms.

"Up," she demanded.

Remus and Sirius sniggered. But James' glare shut them up effectively.

"Not now," James said gently. "We need to change you."

Expertly, James removed Hermione's diaper and put a new one on her. "There. All done."

Hermione gave back a two-teeth grin. "Dwn."

James laughed at that. "You know Harry could say done better than you."

"Ayy," Hermione tried to pronounce the name seriously.

With a rueful smile, James patted Hermione's head.

Remus cleared his throat before the morning got sadder. "Who all for breakfast then?"

Sirius, James and Remus immediately raised their left hands. Copying them, Hermione also lifted her hand, a second late.

All three looked at her.

"I don't think Hermione can cook," Sirius said, smiling. "How about chits, then?"

Everyone agreed and asked Hermione to pick one. Sirius.

"Why you, little devil," Sirius said, tickling her, "Had to pick on me, huh?"

"Me Dewil," Hermione said laughing.

Incidentally, the only correct word she pronounced that morning became her nickname.