"Ma-til-da, Ma-til-da, Ma-til-da she take me money and run Venezuela…"
Harry's singing was driving Hermione absolutely bonkers. She had a stack of student dissertations to read and assess, lessons to plan and endless meetings before the semester's end and there her husband was, singing the idiotic Belafonte song of which he only knew the one verse. Matilda, their granddaughter, was sitting on her highchair with her face covered in mashed carrots, completely oblivious as she sucked on her spoon, itching her gums.
"Oh, Merlin, help me! Matilda's not even one and she'll soon be begging to have her name changed!" She shouted at him from the kitchen doorway.
Harry turned around and in all his froufrou yellow apron glory beamed at her.
"Never thought I'd enjoy being a grandfather so much… I mean, just the fact that at 6 our Rosie will be fetching her… No sleepless nights, no more dirty nappies at 3 am… I mean, bloody brilliant!"
"And she's cute, isn't she? As cute as a Pygmy Puff!" Hermione cooed, squeezing one of Matilda's chubby toes, "She's just like my Mum."
The little one just squealed in delight, reaching for one of her granny's curls with her carrot-covered finger. Hermione swerved away just in time.
"I'd hate to see them returning to New York, love. What'll we do with ourselves on Thursdays without her? Stare at the telly and watch The Vicar of Dibley specials again?"
"I was thinking of Downton Abbey, more like… Don't you think Violet Crawley's just like McGonagall?"
"Nah, someone needs to change her prescription glasses. McGonagall would never wear colors," Harry scoffed. "Also, is lasagna all right for dinner?"
"Sure, I'll make the salad?"
All of a sudden a high-pitched scream erupted from their Matilda-puff, whose red face looked about to explode, frighteningly similar to Uncle Vernon. It certainly triggered things in Harry. His expression was of pure horror as their idyllic afternoon seemed to morph into nightmare.
Hermione grabbed for a cloth to clean the baby, still incessantly screaming and crying. She picked her up and the baby squirmed, hot tears trailing down her chubby cheeks.
"What is she a goddamn dementor now?"
"It's time for her nap with granddad Harry!" Hermione cried out, her voice laced with the pain of having her hair forcefully pulled.
Harry's shoulders drooped and he had to swallow in fear. He hadn't put a child down for a nap in over twenty-odd years… And even then he wasn't the best.
"Come to think of it, New York is far sunnier than our part of the world. She could benefit from some vitamin D…"
Hermione gave him a little shove and the two of them laughed over Matilda's racket.
"You finish dinner, I'll deal with the kid."
"A true Gryffindor, indeed!" He cried out, blowing her a kiss.