Compatible Evil
Sleeping Dragons Die
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership to Harry Potter and all associated characters, and I never will.
"Is he adorable as a baby?" Pomona Sprout leant across the coffee table conspiratorially, "I was so sure he was."
"Oh yes," Minerva McGonagall reassured her, sipping from a thin china cup of tea, "and she is as well, bless her; little brown curls all over her head and such big eyes."
"How darling," Pomona cooed, pouring herself a chunky mug of tea from the teapot.
The two women sat in silence for a moment, with soft smiles on their faces, reminiscing about their various nieces and nephews as small children.
"And," Minerva added in a low, proud voice, "both of them can talk. Already, I mean, just imagine."
"Well, well. But we always knew they were terribly clever, didn't we?"
"Indeed. And dear Hermione with top grades in all of her classes, bar one."
Minerva gave the brooding man clothed in black a filthy glare. Rolling his eyes in her direction, he continued nursing his cup of tea and brushing crumbs from his robes. Pomona followed her line of sight, and sighed loudly and disapprovingly. Severus Snape looked up and fixed them both with a menacing sneer. Pomona pursed her lips as Minerva topped up her tea, ignoring his immature attempts to rile them.
"He never was friendly nor fair, Minerva," soothed Pomona, "you can't really expect him to give Gryffindors fair marks."
"Well, I give all my Slytherins fair marks," she sniffed loudly.
"Don't talk such rubbish!" bellowed Snape suddenly, standing up explosively, "You always mark my children down!"
The two spinsters watched his quit the staffroom with scandalized looks. Even Pomona Sprout managed to look shocked, with her crooked hat and dirty face. Minerva McGonagall appeared to have sucked a lemon, but as she always wore that face when dealing with Slytherins, it was no surprise. She harboured no friendly feelings for the man who had tarnished the perfect reputation of her, admittedly, favourite Gryffindor.
"At least he cares for his Slytherins," Pomona said at last, breaking the shocked silence.
"Indeed, indeed," agreed Minerva, setting her cup down so hard it rattled in the saucer, "that at least is something."
"And the poor man's godson has just been transfigured to a toddler," Pomona continued, and Minerva's face darkened.
"I just don't understand how it happened. Two of my best pupils, to make a mistake like that…Well, I certainly wasn't expecting it."
"Aye, my dear," the tubby woman gossiped, "I am one hundred percent sure that Ronald Weasley had something to do with it."
"I do believe you're right. And with such clever brothers as well.
"Oh yes, why, even Fred and George were intelligent in their own ways, I suppose."
"Definitely, why, Pomona I am so glad I don't lead Slytherin house. How awful that would be. I mean, honestly dear, when was the last time Severus brought up any of his former pupils with any pride?"
…
"No, no, no, Miss Hermione does not want to be doing that!" Dobby frantically corrected, seizing the bottle of ink she was holding in her fist.
"Blooper," she said crossly, pouting.
"Oh dear, Winky does not know what is wrong with Master Draco, Dobby," Winky spared her cohort a worried glance as she twiddled her ears in panic.
Master Draco Malfoy was sitting on the comfortable red carpet, thumping his chubby little hand against the floor imperiously. Thick blonde hair was standing up in every direction from his pale head, and wide blue eyes glared at the small houself.
"Here, Winky, you take Miss Hermione, and Dobby will take the gracious Master Draco."
Winky nodded, and patted Draco on the head with her spindly fingers. He let out a small cry of indignation and batted her away. As both houseleves watched him, waiting for the inevitably temper tantrum that was coming, a delighted gurgle sounded behind them. Hermione was sitting on the floor a few feet away, her delightful red mouth covered in dark blue ink which was dripping down her chin.
"Oh no!" wailed Winky, hurrying over, "Miss Hermione shouldn't have done that, oh no, she shouldn't! Poor, poor Miss Hermione."
"Ha-ha!" said Master Malfoy rather distinctly, and then giggled happily.
"Hewmione dwank da ink," Hermione proclaimed proudly.
"Oh no, Master Draco, this is not funny, no, not at all," Dobby said frantically while Master Draco rolled around on the floor in hysterics.
"Is! Is!" he insisted loudly.
"Is Miss Hermione hungry?" Winky asked, on the verge of despair.
"Hey Dobby, Winky," a voice greeted, and two boys stuck their heads around the nursery door, "how's it going? Is Hermione alright?"
"Hawwy! Won!" called out Miss Hermione delightedly, and waved her rattle at them in excitement.
"Hey Hermione," Ron greeted, coming into the room and picking her up awkwardly, "you have no idea how badly I am going to fail transfiguration. I don't suppose you can still help?"
"Blooper!" she screamed, and hit his savagely over the head with the green and yellow rattle she was clenching in her right hand, "Blooper know 'bout test thwee weeks ago!"
"Yeah, I shouldn't have asked. She's less accommodating as a baby," Ron groaned, and passed her to Harry.
"Blooper," she said one last time, and blew a loud raspberry at him.
"Gross," Harry exclaimed morosely, "have you been drinking ink? My shirt's ruined."
Master Draco chortled loudly, and carried on blowing bubbles from the safety of Dobby's thin arms. The houself, who had cared for him once as a child already, brushed his hair with a soft brush. Winky stood and watched rather helplessly. Harry and Ron pulled disgusted faces at Malfoy, and dropped Hermione gently on the floor again.
"Well, have to be off, so nice to see you," Harry shouted as they vanished.
"Bloopers! Bloopers!" Miss Hermione shouted loudly, and slammed her fist against the floor.
"Ha," Master Draco said, wobbling on unsteady legs over to where she sat next to the door, "bloopers."
Hermione gave one final, tear filled glance at the shut door, and began to wail loudly. Tears streamed down her face, mixing unattractively with phlegm. They dripped off her dimpled chin and down her blue pinafore, puddling on the carpet. Draco surveyed her for a moment, and then sat down resolutely next to her. His little podgy arms held out his teddy bear, which he clasped in both hands. He was studiously studying the window when she grasped it, and began to cuddle it.
"Bloopers," she moaned softly, and kissed the bear clumsily on the nose.
"Don' cry," Draco said, regarding her with bright eyes, "not as funny w'en you cry."
Hermione gave him a tremulous, tear filled smile, and waved a teddy bear paw at him. He gazed at her for a second, slightly stupefied, and then burst out into joyous, hiccupping laughter. Soon, she joined with him, and even Winky stopped ironing her fingers long enough to smile indulgently at the pair of them.
Such jolly children, Miss Hermione and Master Draco were - the elf thought to herself - such little angels the Miss and Master were.