Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter, nor am I the author, producer, screenwriter, or anything remotely with having rights to gain money from the writing of this fanfic.

AN: So this story was going to be on hold…then I watched HP7 and said, Nah. So here you go. Chapter 3.

Chapter 3

"MUUUUUUUMMMMMMYYYYYY!"

Draco did not know what to think. One minute he was just coming home for the first time in five years, the next he was talking to an adorable little girl who "neewew help getting a wrink." Roscoe, his three year old Golden Retriever, walked around the corner and the little girl jumped into his arms and screamed so loud that Roscoe scurried under the table with her paws covering her ears.

He heard someone come thundering down the steps and walked that way with his arms holding the weeping, whimpering girl. A beautiful young woman was standing at the far side of the room close to the foot of the stairs. Her short brown hair was pinned and pulled back into a ponytail, her face flushed. She was wearing a worn out t-shirt and holey sweat pants. There was a smear of blue on one arm. The arm that just happened to be holding a wand pointed at his head.

"Set my daughter down, Malfoy." He knew now without a doubt that it was Hermione Granger. Only she could manage that degree of malice without scaring a child.

Hopefully she wouldn't hex him. "I can't. Your daughter" he understood her words when he repeated them. Oh bother. "Is holding on to me." He released his hold on the girl, but she clung tighter and whimpered harder. Distantly he heard Roscoe whimpering too.

Granger ran over to him, holstering her wand as she ran. She carefully dug her hands between the girl and his chest. "De, Mummy's right here. It's okay to let go." Hermione's voice, so malicious a split moment ago, was gentle now.

He felt little De shake her head and cling yet tighter. He then felt Hermione's hands leave his chest and she walked around him. Next thing he knew she was dragging his dog out by the collar shoving her out the back door. De's hold on him loosened infinitesimally.

"I think she'll let go now. Was it the d—" He was stopped by Hermione's warning eyes.

"Do not say that word around her." Again with the malice. More softly, "De, come to Mummy now. We'll go back upstairs and it'll be okay."

De transferred over to Hermione's arms and she whispered, "I'm sorry for getting out of bew Mummy."

Her sad little voice almost broke his heart. As mother and daughter walked away, he realized that Hermione Granger was in the Malfoy manner! This was something he never imagined. She must be a maid. Why else would she be here? Cleaning?

Draco walked to the window and looked at his dog. It was only November, but the weather was already colder here than it was back home in New York. Now when did I start thinking of New York as home? Roscoe, his baby girl, was moping just under the cover of the porch where Granger had tied her. He was starting to open the door when he heard a pop! of apparition.

Turning around, he saw the house-elf that had practically raised him after he turned twelve. "Thyme (he pronounced without the h), nice to see you again." It was after he spoke that he noticed the little flowered dress she was wearing.

"Mr. Malfoy has been gone a long time since Thyme (pronounced with the h) has seen him. Mr. Malfoy should know better than to be gone from Thyme for so long." The elderly house-elf admonished him. "Mr. Malfoy has a lot of nerve bringing that thing in the Missuz house. Little Miz De-de is terrified of the beasts. Whole lot of nerve."

Thyme ceased her admonitions as Hermione walked back down the stairs. Her hair had fallen down, and played with her chin as she moved. Draco realized with a start that he missed the bushiness of her hair. It lessened any chance of attraction. At least, that's what he told himself.

"Thyme, would you and Tarragon please make arrangements for that, thing. It may be abominable, but it's still a living creature." The house-elf nodded her head. "Thank you."

The elf popped! out of the room. Hermione glared at the offending dog owner. She then gestured at a chair. When he didn't sit, she raised one eyebrow and touched her wand. He immediately sat down.

"So, the prodigal son has returned."

"Yes, I suppose you could say that. Tell me Granger, what circumstances transpired that would bring you so low as to be working in my house?" Draco drawled out trying to gain the upper hand.

"Tell me, why have you been gone for five years, s—" she stopped herself from saying, 'five years, six months and three days' because that would just be stalkerish.

"No, no Granger, you should answer my question first." His voice left no room for question.

"Malfoy," she addressed him and corrected, though he didn't know the later, "It's nine-thirty at night. I'm no longer working."

He looked pointedly at her disheveled clothing and the cleaner mark that was still on her arm.

"Oh, this is just for practicality and relaxation. I usually keep a very strict 9 to 5 schedule, just so you know. There, I answered your question now answer mine." She replied viciously.

"I've been living life," he answered obtusely. "Why are you forcing my girl to sleep outside on such a frigid night as this?"

"I am doing no such thing!" Hermione burst out, not realizing he was talking about the dog.

"Oh, so Roscoe has a room set up?" He asked in that superior way of his.

"No. I would never keep a dog in the house." What she didn't say was, 'You never read any of the letters I sent you, you big-headed, buffoon of a jerk?'

"Why is that?" Aha, I've the upper hand now. And she doesn't even realize it.

"When De was two, we were walking down Diagon Alley and her hand slipped from mine as I was talking to a friend." Hermione started telling the story, and staring off in space. "She approached a young dog with maybe a week old puppies. De, being used to Hagrid's animals, just started petting them. The mum attacked her. Thankfully, she wasn't hurt more than a scratch, but she can't be around dogs anymore. Or hear the term. She won't get near Fang, and they used to be best mates."

Draco felt ashamed, though he did not let that emotion show on his face. "I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe Roscoe will aid her to overcome her fear."

Hermione zoned back in on his face. "I take it you intend on staying then?"

"Yes. I shall begin applying locally in the morning. Why, is that a problem for you Granger?" He seemed to take great glee from the idea of her discomfort.

"No. I would never let something as minute as you interfere with my life." Not that it already has. "So you will be applying for an apartment or a job?" Hermione replied with a smirk.

"A job…Why would I need an apartment?" What in the world is she on about? This is my house, not hers.

Her Hershey-kiss-brown eyes flashed. "Well, you most certainly aren't staying here."

He stood up, grey eyes hard. "I won't be staying here? In my house? I beg to differ." He tried to walk passed her. She froze him with a silent spell.

"Nice try, but after five years being away and being an adult, you have forfeited rights to the house." She pulled out her wand and levitated him out the door. "Knowing Thyme and Tarragon, the dog house will be big enough for you to share with your mutt. Goodnight."

Draco could only watch as she settled him on the porch and slam the door on his face with a look of pure glee.

OoO

The elder Malfoy couple apparated onto their porch giggling from the few (read two bottles) drinks they had at dinner. They had a business dinner that the other company head didn't show up to, so they decided to have an impromptu date night. Their joviality was silenced when they noticed the statue in front of them.

"Luci (read: loo-chee), what is that?" Narcissa had her wand ready, instantly sobered.

Lucius quickly rotated the statue and froze himself. It was an almost perfect replica of himself in his mid-twenties. The eyes twitched. They flashed in a way only Cissa's could, the way his son managed to duplicate.

"Finite Incantum." Lucius caught his son as he fell.

"DRACO! Son, are you okay?" Narcissa hovered over her son, casting simple detection spells for injuries or hidden weapons.

"Yes Mum, I'm fine." He replied standing.

"Good." SMACK! She slapped the back of his head.

"What was that for?" He turned to his mother and tried to reign in his anger.

Lucius unlocked the door and held it open for his small family to walk through. "Son, you have a lot of explaining to do. But it is after midnight and you are practically frozen. My only immediate question is who froze you on at the door?"

Draco's eyes were as angry as a category 5 hurricane. "That crazy Granger."

"Crazy? Hermione is not crazy, just over protective. Tipsy? There you are dear. Can you show Draco to his room?" The little house elf, wearing shrunken skinny pants and a tank that said Bite Me, grabbed his hand and started pulling him towards the stairs.

"Mother, I think I remember how to get to my room," He replied incredulously.

"No, you don't."

AN: wow…I so did not mean to take over a year to get this out… This one is short, but that's where I felt the best cut off was. I have already started on the next part. Don't worry! It'll be here soon

themonk