Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and related materials are property of J.K. Rowling. I only own the plot.

Title: Little Children

Summary: Draco Malfoy, the boy who never grew is in for the shock of his life. After caring only for himself for the last six years, his estranged father, now sitting in Azkaban, lands him with his eight year old half- sister. With a germophobic children, two old friends that seem to be stalking you, and Ginny Weasley for a nanny...will this teach Draco to grow up a bit?

Rating: PG (for now)

A/N: Thank you to my reviewers: Midnight Mistress, Epsilon Psi, Arafel, MrsPitt, kneh13, Lorelai Anastasia. I appreciate your oppions, keep the constructive criticism coming! Thanks again. Unfortunately, this is the same chapter, with only minor changes. I took out all the cute little grammar errors.

Author: Punk up the Volume

Little Children

Chapter Two

"Ginny, it's so wonderful to see you!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, grabbing her daughter and throwing her arms around her. She was so very happy to see her daughter. Her only daughter whom she hadn't seen in at least two years.

"Mum, please," Ginny begged, trying to pull away. "I can't breath!"

"Oh, sorry dear." Mrs. Weasley apologized, letting go of Ginny. She seemed so different. So grown up. She was on her own, Mrs. Weasley nodded to herself, all on her own. "Just leave you're bags by the steps, Ginny, and Kreacher will get them and take them up-"

"Wait, Mum, did you say Kreacher?" Ginny asked, her eye's wide as she took a step back, shaking her head unbelievingly. "You didn't bring him here, did you?"

"Well...you see, after the fall of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and the Order was disbanded...Hermione felt so bad about him having to stay alone in that stuffy old house...she had to go to Egypt, couldn't very well take him..."

"Mum!" Ginny yelled in shock. "He'll kill us all in our sleep!"

"He hasn't so far."

"Yes, but-"

"C'mon, Ginny," her mother interrupted quickly, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the kitchen. "Everyone can't wait to see you!"

"Everyone?"

Ginny walked through the kitchen door, surprised by the large mob standing in the room, talking and chattering away. Hermione was the first to see her.

"Ginny!" she yelled with a big grin, running over to her friend and pulling her into a giant hug. Ginny couldn't help but smile. "We've all been wondering when you'd get here. You haven't responded to any of my owls, they've all come back with their letters, but never mind that! How are you? Have you met anyone special, if you know what I mean! Ron and I just got back from vacation in Romania and it was beautiful-"

"Slow down, Hermione," Ron reprimanded his wife, pulling he away from Ginny. "You're probably hurting her eardrums. How've you been Ginny?"

Ginny nodded, smiling. "Good. I just missed home so much, I thought I'd drop by for the summer."

"Well, that's good, we're glad to have you home."

"Aunt Ginny!" Olivia Weasley shouted, attaching herself to Ginny's leg. The eight year old girl grinned with excitement.

"Hey, Olivia," Ginny said, truly happy to finally be home. A dark figure brushed by her shoulder. Ginny turned around to face Cho Potter, beaming at her with a baby resting on her shoulder.

"Oh, Cho," Ginny breathed, staring in wonder at the baby. "Where did you get that beautiful baby?"

"I don't think you really want me to get into specifics," Cho teased. "I now introduce you to little Sirius Potter, a mere six months old."

"I had no idea-"

"I know," Cho said earnestly. "Harry and I tried for over a year to owl you, but nothing ever came of it. Where have you been?"

"Oh," Ginny said nervously, thinking quickly. "Well, my building manager was getting suspicious with all the owls. He kept chasing them away. I couldn't even get the Daily Prophet." Ginny hated lying to everyone, but they would never let her go out on her own again if they knew that she had been sleeping on random friend's couches for the past year and a half and that her most recent eviction had been from a dingy old apartment when the rent got to be too much. She couldn't stand having her mother and father find out.

"So where's Harry?" Ginny changed the subject.

Cho sighed. "Practice. You probably haven't heard, but the Dragon's traded Harry to the Wimbourne Wasps and they're working him extra hard, just to make sure that he's good enough. He tried to get out of it when he heard you were coming, but he couldn't." Cho said apologetically. Ginny shook her head.

"That's alright. It's his job. Me, I'm nothing special. He can see me any old time."

"Ginny!" Another person yelled out from across the room. Ginny turned, tired of her own name. Before she could see who it was that had called for her, two tall red headed boys had picked her up and raised her on they're shoulders.

"George, Fred!" Ginny screamed, pretending to be angry. "Let me down right now!" She pounded on Fred's back until they lowered her to the ground and beamed down on her with triumphant smiles.

"Think you're clever do you?" Ginny questioned, her hands on her hips.

" 'Course." Fred nodded.

Ginny raised her eyebrows as she saw the side of her brother's head. Half of the hair was singed off. "What happened?"

Fred grinned. "Experiments. We've been working on our new Exploding Lollies."

"They're supposed to give the victim a sharp jolt, but something keeps going wrong and-"

"They keep setting on fire."

"Exactly."

Ginny laughed. The unnerving feeling in her stomach that had been nagging her ever since she lied to Cho was starting to disappear. She looked over at her whole family in the kitchen. Bill and Fleur were whispering in each other's ears in the corner by the cabinets, they're daughter Olivia standing next to them, pulling on her mother's skirt, trying to get her attention. At the breakfast table, five year old James Potter stood across from Hermione and Ron's four year old son Lucas, they're fake wands (no doubt Christmas gifts from Fred and George) pointed at each other with Lucas's little sister, three year old Lana stood by, screaming at them to let her play.

Ginny sighed. It was good to be home.

Draco sighed. It was good to be home.

"Your house smells." Nina voiced next to him, her nose wrinkled in disgust, a face that she made a lot. His car smelled, he stairs smelled, his house smelled.

"It not a house." Draco grumbled, correcting her. "It's a flat. And there's only one bedroom. Feel free to make yourself comfortable on the couch."

The young girl seemed to ignore Draco. As he took off his coat and threw it on the dirty floor of the cramped flat, Nina bent down where her bag and opened the zipper. Carefully, she reached in and pulled out a large can of antibacterial air spray, springtime scented.

"What are you doing with that?" Draco asked, staring at the girl in wonder as she walked around to all his furniture and sprayed for exactly eight seconds before moving on to the next area.

Sighing once again, Draco walked over and took the can out of her hand.

"Give that back!" she shouted, grabbing at the can. But at four feet tall, she was no match for Draco's height.

"You're eight years old, you don't need your own air freshener." Draco said, setting the can down on the counter of the small kitchen. "Don't you have a doll you can play with, or something?"

Without responding, Nina walked back over to her bag and pulled out the pathetic old doll that she had been holding back at the ministry. Along with the missing leg, and the eye that was attached only by a single thread, the doll's dress was ripped and tattered, not at all the kind of doll that he was expecting the wealthy child to own.

"What the hell is that?" Draco questioned, staring at the doll that reminded him of so many movies where the dolls came to life and killed everyone in the house.

"She doesn't have a name." Nina said, a sad look now resting on her face. Her lip trembled as if she was about to burst with tears, but she merely set the doll on the couch and zipped up her couch.

"Don't you have a doll that is...I don't know, not falling apart?" Draco asked, walking to the fridge and pulling out a can of Coke.

"No." Nina stated simply, looking at her doll with pure adoraton. "Daddy always told me that he wanted to me to have the best of everything. So he always bought me new dolls for my birthday. I left them back home in my closet. She was my Mummy's doll first. She gave her to me when I was born."

Draco thought he heard the small girl's voice waver, but ignored it. He had barely known his stepmother, a small, quiet woman by the name of Theresa Moody, Mad-Eye's own daughter. It was no wonder why he had been so afraid of Deatheater attacks. His daughter had been one.

Draco had only seen her twice, once when he'd been forced to attend his father's wedding. She didn't seem the type. She was beautiful and quiet, she didn't seem evil and vicious like most. But appearances could be deceiving. Draco knew that as a fact. After Moody's death, his daughter was the prime suspect, but there was no proof.

"This couch is dirty." Draco was awoken from his silent reverie by Nina's loud complaint.

"It's all I've got." Draco shrugged, counting the days until the first of the month. Two weeks, two short weeks until the first payoff. He smiled happily. And then only two and a half more years until he could ship her off to Hogwarts. The smile disappeared from his face. two and a half long years...

"You'd better go to bed." Draco said, throwing the can from his coke into the recycling bin by his door. Shutting off the lights, Draco walked through the dark room towards the single bedroom at the back. He could no longer see the small girl, sitting alone on the couch in the dark, clutching her doll. "Night."

There was no response as he closed is door and climbed into bed. He was asleep before he knew, still in his clothes, but outside his door, someone else lay awake, unable to sleep.

A loud whimper awoke Draco at four in the morning. Lifting his head off of his pillow, his eyes still heavy with sleep, he slipped out of bed and walked along the cold hardwood floor, making his way to the door. He heard it again, this time softer. Pulling his door open and stepping out into the darkness of the living room, Draco could hear the soft sound of Nina crying on the couch.

"What's your problem?" he asked gruffly, rubbing his eyes. He wasn't sure what to do in a situation like this. He had never had to care for an eight year old girl before.

"I'm scared." Nina replied, lifting her head off the couch and staring at him.

"Scared of what?" Draco asked incredulously.

"The dark." the little girl answered.

"Then turn on a light."

"Can I sleep in your room?"

"For God's sake, no." Draco retorted, snorting with disgust at the idea.

"My Mum always used to let me sleep with her." Nina explained, throwing Draco a pleading look.

"Well, this may be hard to understand, but I'm not your Mum." Draco said, turning around to go back to his room, but Nina interrupted his retreat.

"Then can you sit out here? Please? I'm scared."

Preparing to say no, Draco opened his mouth, but merely sighed. He would just sit out there if it kept the little brat happy. "Fine," Draco grumbling, sitting down in the old chair across from the couch. He laid his head back trying to fall asleep, but it would not come. Thinking about his warm, comfortable bed, only a few feet away, Draco prepared himself for a long night.

A/N: there's the end of chapter two. Next chapter, the introduction of Blaise Zabini. Thanks for everyone's reviews, I really appreciate it. Be kind, rewind, and if you have the time, I have a few review questions that you guys can answer if you feel like it:

1) Is everyone in character? I mean, I figure that Draco's meaness is pretty much on the mark, but wanted to know if I'm good with the Weasley Clan, if they're all too cheery.

2) Is the plot believable? I mean, I pretty much B.S.ed my way through the British legal system in chapter one, so constructive criticism would be nice (I sound like my old Social Studies teacher : "What is rule Number Three? No harsh words only constructive criticism...)

3) Is this good, or should I completely abandon it?

4) Why is T is potpourri silent? Honestly?

Thanks for reading and please review.