In some ways, Nym reflected, it was very different having a baby in the house, and in some ways it was exactly like the summer before. Uncle Lucius was forever caught up in his business, which suited Nym just fine, and what little free time Narcissa had had before was now taken up by baby Draco. And since even that wasn't enough for the little bugger's satisfaction, Nym was stuck on babysitting detail at least a couple of times each week. She didn't really mind playing with her baby cousin - Draco was cute, now that he was a regular baby and past that early stage where he'd looked like a giant purple prune, if Narcissa's many photos were anything to judge by - but it got boring fairly quickly. There was only so much you could do with someone who can hardly even sit up on their own yet.

Failing all else, of course, there was always shopping. Most of the time Nym spent in her aunt's company was in the upper eschelons of Diagon Alley, visiting all the exclusive little boutiques that catered to new mothers. And, of course, the more fashionable women's ones for clothes for Nym and Narcissa, because all the styles had changed, and the world would most certainly end if Nym was seen wearing last year's fashions. The mounds in the back of her enormous closet were growing noticeably, Nym thought, to the point where soon they would spill over, out her door and down into the main hallway.

As much as Nym hated shopping for herself, there was a certain fun in shopping with baby Draco. He had a true baby's instinct for getting in trouble, and even though he couldn't yet move about on his own, he had an alarming tendency to reach out and grab things as he was carried by them. It might not have been so bad, had he only grabbed clothes and so on. But with a true spirit for mischief, he tended to reach for those pretty, shiny, dangerous things, like the dragon's eye one shop keeper foolishly left sitting out. Nym wasn't sure, but later she thought the magical shock it had given him might have turned his already pale blond hair almost white. When he starts crawling, she thought, I'm going to have to get him a leash. Maybe if I put sequins on it, he'll be too busy playing with it to get into trouble. Or maybe it'll have to be diamonds.

That was the other thing Nym noticed right away about her baby cousin. When her other cousins, the muggle ones, had been babies, they'd taken an interest in things almost indescriminantly. Well, perhaps they preferred one color to another, or a certain type of toy, but who ever heard of a baby that discriminated based on the price of something. It didn't matter if it was pretty, or interesting, Draco automatically reached for the most expensive thing in any store. Narcissa cooed, and said it was cute, but Nym privately wondered what kind of kid her cousin would grow into.

She worried about this most during her uncle's dinner parties. How any child could grow up going to such things, she would never know, she reflected from her advanced age of not-quite-thirteen. She didn't mind the dinner parties quite so much anymore, though, because while Narcissa was required to attend, Nym was not, at least not for the entire thing. Which meant Nym was put on babysitting duty, which suited her fine, since she could take Draco, almost always fast asleep by this point, to the library with her, where Anton would help her with the long and arduous assignments that Remus kept sending her.

It was here that the man Nym knew only as Karkaroff found her one evening, after most of the guests had retired to the drawing room for a bit of port, or sherry, or whatever her uncle served that was the wizarding equivalent. Nym really wished he hadn't found her; Karkaroff was one of her uncle's friends who was closer to her in age, and seemed both pleasant and intelligent enough, but she found him a bit pompous, and no end trying. He had graduated from Hogwarts, but spent some time at Durmstrang, she knew from his endless reminiscings about the good old days, a full five years ago. He was considered, among her uncle's circle, something of an academic, and it was truly frightful that he had never been invited to study at one of Europe's finer schools of magic, the German National Academy, for instance. Whenever this came up, Nym felt her uncle's eyes on her, and worked to bring the converstation around to other things with as little awkwardness as possible. Her uncle knew that one of Nym's very good friends - he refused to acknowledge her references to Remus as one of her brothers - was currently studying at the most prestigious of the aforesaid schools, and that Nym herself had not only been invited to study there after she finished Hogwarts, but that the school was quite keen to have her over her breaks as well.

When Karkaroff found her, Nym was halfway up one of the second-level ladders, with Anton hovering fretfully nearby as he watched baby Draco trying to crawl out of the cardboard box Nym had put him in. Draco had only started moving about himself the week before, and was already eager to test the limits of his mobility. The problem with this was, currently, that moving beyond the confines of the box would send him tumbling thirty feet to the floor below. Nym was not the least worried that he would escape the many protective spells on the box, but Anton had less faith, and so watched in agony every time Nym brought her little cousin to the library and put him in his box. Draco himself seemed less than fond of his little prison, but had grown much more accepting of it since Nym had lined it with one of his velvet blankets and put in a silk pillow. Evidently it had not been the box's precarious position, but rather its plebian nature, which had so agreived the little boy.

Nym was aware of the foppishly dressed Karkaroff the moment he stepped into the library, but kept her attention on Anton, the book she was searching for and, most importantly, keeping her balance on the wobbly ladder.

"Really, Miss Nymphadora, it doesn't matter how many spells you've put on the box. You cannot guarantee the young master's safety."

Nym sighed and, having at last spotted the tome she searched for, reached out rather farther than was wise to snatch it from the shelf. She could have pulled the books down by magic, she supposed. But there was something decidedly unwise about moving spellbooks about with magic: you never knew what it might set off. Besides, she enjoyed clambering about high among the shelves. She had fallen, a couple of times, but her quidditch reflexes had let her catch herself on a bookshelf or ladder before she fell more than a foot or two. Nym gave the worried ghost a look of triumph and slid down the ladder with the ease of much practice, only to fetch up, arms waving wildly, as she tried to avoid barreling down Karkaroff who had, unnoticed, suddenly reached the bottom of her ladder.

"Decidedly unwise, Miss Nymphadora," Karakaroff sneered, once he'd recovered himself. He was twirling that annoying little goatee of his, which Nym would dearly loved to have ripped right off his feeble chin. "You might have hurt someone."

"No one of consequence, I promise you," Nym snapped. Her uncle's guests never came to the library; that was part of the appeal of the place to her.

Karkaroff, rather than search for a suitable reply, took the bully's way out and snatched the book out of her hand. "Poisons and Potions, Miss Nymphadora? No, no, that won't do at all. You can pretend to be as smart as you like for your uncle, but you and me, we know better, don't we? Best not play with this, or you'll get hurt."

"You and I," Nym corrected, snatching her book back.

"What?"

"You and I, not you and me." Nym rolled her eyes. "Go away, boy, you're bothering me." Had she been anywhere other than Malfoy Manor, Nym never would have said such a thing to Karkaroff who, despite his annoying nature, had many years more experience working magic than she did. However, Malfoy Manor was far more than just a house: it had been the stronghold of the Malfoy family for generations and, as an accepted Malfoy (by the house, if not by all her relations), the house would do everything it could to protect Nym which, as it happened, was quite a lot. Most wizarding families put in a few defence spells outside the house but the Malfoys, being both somewhat more suspicious and a good deal richer than most, had them liberally scattered throughout the house and grounds. Anyone that threatened Nym, excepting her aunt and uncle, would be forcibly ejected from the Manor very quickly.

Karkaroff's eyes narrowed, but he didn't make a comment. Nym had no doubt that Lucius had made it abundantly clear that his guests were here at his pleasure, and given some indication of the defence spells. Karkaroff just had to decide if he thought Nym could command those spells, and how much he stood to lose if he was wrong.

"What are you doing here, Karkaroff?"

"Your uncle has some books he said I might borrow."

"From the library?"

"Yes, of course," he snapped.

Nym shrugged. "Fair enough. Don't let me keep you."

She took her book and, calling Draco's box to come after her, left the library. The box, she decided as she ran down the front stairs and snatched a broom out of the closet, was a decidedly good idea. She'd have to modify it once Draco gained a bit more mobility, but for now she could take him with her, without having him slow her down or having to worry about what happened to him.

She reached the front gates of the Manor just seconds before Karkaroff appeared with a violent bang, his robes smoldering and his stupid little goatee looking decidedly worse for wear. Of the books he had mentioned, there was no sign. Nym need not have raced out here to meet him, but adding insult to injury, especially in the case of Karkaroff, was too good a chance to pass up.

"The Malfoys don't like having their books stolen," she told him, and turned her broom to fly back to the house. She had never trusted Karkaroff, no more than any others among her uncle's friends, but she hadn't thought him to be quite so stupid. Most old wizarding families, she had been told, kept wardings on their libraries to protect the family secrets. Hogwarts had one of the most elaborate protection systems there was, if Hogwarts: A History was to be believed, but it was no where near so obvious as the one at the Manor.

Lucius would never have lent a book out. It wasn't that he was a great reader, or particularily cared about the books themselves. But the books in the Malfoy library were rare, and most of them contained very potent spells. And if there was one thing Nym knew about her uncle, it was that he had no desire to share power, or even potential power, with anyone.

Lucius met her at the front door. "What happened?" he demanded as she dismounted her broom and stashed it back in the closet. "The library spells..."

Nym shrugged. "Karkaroff thought he might borrow some books, Uncle," she said as nonchalantly as she could. "He seemed to think you wouldn't mind."

Lucius visibly changed what he had been about to say. "And where is he now?"

"Most likely dealing with the results of a few very unpleasant hexes. For an academic, Uncle, your friend Karkaroff is remarkably stupid."

Again, Lucius visibly controlled himself. "And you were…?" he asked, looking pointedly at the book under Nym's arm.

"Adding insult to injury, uncle. I do hope you don't invite him again, he is most terribly odious." She gave her uncle a very pointed look, and he laughed. Mr. Goyle, standing behind him and Mr. Crabbe, who held the door, both laughed dutifully as well.

"It was a terrible loss to Slytherin when you went to Gryffindor, Nymphadora. You would have done the House proud."

Nym laughed. "Thank you, Uncle. But that House has more than enough misplaced pride. I'm happy where I am." She sauntered up the main staircase. Below her, she could hear Lucius quietly berating Mr.'s Crabbe and Goyle, though over what she really couldn't have said. She felt a right little twerp, speaking the way she had to when at the Manor, but if it meant making fun of people like Karakaroff, well, she'd put up with it.