Chapter 5

Hermione arrived at Draco's house ten minutes earlier than necessary. It was a small, modest, two-story home with a stone path and potted flowers. There was a seat swing on the front porch and children's toys littered the area. The front door swung open as she approached, stopping her in her tracks. Draco emerged, oatmeal in his hair and Lilah in his arms.

"Thank Merlin," he muttered. "Please help."

Smiling, she stepped onto the porch and took the baby from him. "So, um, the airplane had to make a crash landing on the way to the hangar?" she guessed.

Draco frowned. "I didn't understand a word of that," he told her. "No, someone decided she wasn't hungry and that breakfast belonged on me instead."

"That someone wouldn't be eight months old, would she?" Hermione asked.

Turning on his heel, he shrugged and reentered the house. "I wasn't expecting you so early," he said. "There's some coffee in the kitchen. I remember you said you liked coffee. Also, the refrigerator is full, so help yourself to anything in it. I really need to clean myself up. You don't mind watching her for a bit?"

"Oh," Hermione replied with a frown. "You want me to watch her? I don't know that I-"

"Granger," he cut her off. "You're not funny."

She smiled. "I'm a little funny," she muttered. "Look, go get ready for work. I'll take care of things down here. There's a chance I might even get her to eat. Oh, and you have oatmeal on the back of your shirt."

Draco groaned as he glanced over his shoulder at the stain. As he ascended the stairs, he began to undo the buttons unaware that Hermione watched. He wore nothing beneath the blue button-down shirt, and his pale, toned back was all she could see. It wasn't until Lilah squealed that Hermione came to her senses. "Come on, troublemaker," she mumbled as she quickly walked to the kitchen.

Half an hour later, Draco returned to the first floor with a clean shirt and damp hair. Hermione and Lilah were seated on the living room carpet with plastic, multicolored blocks spread around them. "Making a mess already, Granger?" he asked.

Glancing up, she smiled. "If you think this is bad, you should see the kitchen," she retorted. "By the way, there are some eggs on the stove for you."

"They won't kill me, will they?" he inquired.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Now why would I do that?" she wondered.

He entered the kitchen and returned moments later with the plate in hand. "To keep my kid," he replied, sitting down to eat. "Clearly, she's your favorite Malfoy."

"True, very true," she agreed. "However, my flat is small and Pansy takes up a lot of room. I'd have nowhere to put her. Although, I guess if I could convince Pansy to clean out the walk in closet, Lilah would have a room. It's a pretty big closet. Full of shoes. All Pansy's. She has an illness."

Draco laughed. "You'll never get her to give up her shoes," he told her. "She's clearly turned into her mother. On second thought, tell her that. That closet will be cleared out in seconds."

Hermione grinned. "So, are you giving me permission to keep your daughter?" she wondered.

"No, Granger, you may not keep my daughter," he informed her, getting to his feet. "Thank you for breakfast. I should get to work. Oh, just a couple of rules. Don't poison her mind against me. Don't teach her how to knit socks in order to liberate house elves. Don't-"

"Give me any other ideas," Hermione interjected. "Do you have any helpful rules? Allergies, doctors' names?"

Nodding, he told her there was a list on the refrigerator door that listed all the emergency contacts. "And you know how to reach me if anything comes up," he added. Hermione nodded, but he lingered. "Um, would you be terribly insulted if I stopped by around lunchtime? I just...Lilah and I always have lunch together."

Smiling, she nodded her head. "That sounds nice," she replied. "I can make something, if you'd like."

"That would be great. Thanks, Granger," he said. Stepping in front of the fireplace, he grabbed a handful of floo powder and tossed it in before calling out his destination.

Half an hour later as Hermione folded a basketful of clean towels, the floo activated. Glancing up, expecting to see Draco and chastise him for checking in so soon, she was shocked to find it was Pansy who stepped through. "What's...up?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, so he really does have a kid," Pansy mused, watching as Lilah pounded her little hands against a toy piano. "I just wanted to make sure it wasn't some ruse to get you here, possibly hurt you. The two of you were always so mean to each other. I guess I thought that's what this was."

Hermione frowned. "How do you know he's not in the other room, waiting to attack?" she wondered.

"Is he?" Pansy whispered, her face as white as a sheet.

Laughing, Hermione shook her head. "No, he's at work. That really is his daughter," she told her. "You really have nothing to worry about, Pans."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Pansy sat down on the floor and faced Lilah. "Good to know," she replied. "You, however, do."

"What?" she asked, dropping the towel back into the basket. "What are you talking about?"

Pansy chuckled as Lilah moved on from the piano and handed her a yellow block. "Ron's at our flat," she said. "Did you not tell him about this job?"

"It hadn't come up," Hermione mumbled as she resumed her task. "What's he want?"

Shrugging, Pansy continued to stack the blocks that Lilah handed her. "To talk to you, I'm guessing."

Sighing, she folded the last towel and levitated the pile to the linen closet. "Could you tell him that I had to help my mum today?" she asked. "I promise I'll tell him about this, Pansy. Just this once, cover for me?"

Pansy got to her feet and grabbed the pot of floo powder. "Sure, but just this once."