The Nanny Who Lived

The Nanny Who Lived

Chapter VI: Testing waters

…

Once Draco and Hermione had portkeyed themselves away to Paris, their silhouettes had turned into spirals and had vanished into thin air with a soft pop.

And then, there was silence.

And not just any silence, no. Nonononono. No. It was the type of silence that made tension so thick that one could slice it with a butter knife. It was the kind of silence that wasn’t really silent at all. It was a silence that felt inexplicably sticky; a silence that had some elements to it, somehow adding to the sheer stickiness of it all.

The clock ticked almost mockingly – it was probably an ancient thing that Malfoy inherited from his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-not-that-great-grandfather, so it wouldn’t be surprising that the clock mocked him – and it echoed loudly around the room. The wind outside blew, a light breeze with a slight whistle to it, gently rattling the windows of the living room. The fireplace was dimly lit, the ashes were grey and orange, and an occasional spark would crackle every now and then, somewhat pulling Harry out whatever reverie he found himself in.

Tick… Tack… Tick… Tack…

There he was, in this weird, sticky silence, with Scorpius in his arms.

And somehow – and truly, he didn’t know how or why – but sweet fucking Merlin, it. Was. Awkward.

Tick… Tack… Tick… Tack…

What the fuck was he supposed to do with the baby? Was he supposed to rock him, even though he wasn’t crying? Was he supposed to play with him? Was he supposed to put him in his crib and let him sleep? What was he supposed to do!?

Tick… Tack… Ti–

–SOMEBODY, PUH-LEASE, THROW THAT FUCKING CLOCK OUT OF THE WINDOW!

SHEESH!

Harry looked down at him, and Scorpius, with his big, bright mercury eyes, stared back. And, as if Scorpius sensed Harry’s awkwardness, the baby, quite ironically, chose to be the bigger person and ‘started a conversation’, finally breaking the ice.

“Ga. Teto baaarl. Yoya?”

“Uh. Okay?”

“Baaaa. Tetetetete! Paf.”

“I, uh… I agree?”

“Rararaaaa!”

And then, Scorpius burst out laughing, he just erupted into baby giggles. It was as if he had cracked the world’s most hilarious joke, and the tiny infant was just an adorable bubble of contagious laughter. He was laughing so very heartily, merrily kicking with his chubby fists and feet, that a blob of snot began foaming up in his nose and drool began dripping from the corners of his mouth.

When Harry saw that, his heart melted, and a wave of ease seemed to settle into him. He began to let loose, joining Scorpius in his baby giggles, the tension on his shoulders finally easing off and the knot in his stomach finally letting him breathe. Truly, it was an adorable sight, with Scorpius’ little curls bouncing on his head and the bubble of snot in his nose.

However, the bubble was getting bigger and bigger.

Oh, the disaster…

And the toddler found it funnier and funnier.

The impending disaster…

And Harry just kept laughing with the little lad.

Completely clueless about the disaster that was about to unfold…

The bubble finally popped and Scorpius laughed even more, to the point of releasing deafening screeches. As soon as that bubble exploded, another one formed, and popped again. Rinse and repeat, it happened again, and again, and again. It was as if Scorpius’ nose just couldn’t stop producing those bubbles, and Harry, having fully forgotten about the initial sticky awkwardness of it all, thought it was hilarious and was on the brink of tears of hilarity.

Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop!

Ah, so being a nanny wasn’t so bad, after all. Scorpius was a little chad, a good teeny-tiny laddie that seemed to enjoy the simple joys of life. He was a ray of sunshine, a jolly beacon of light, a field of roses! If he kept the attitude for the rest of the night, taking care of him would be a piece of cake! A walk in the park, no sweat!

Pfffft, and he’d been worried about it, fretting over nothing. Which, to be fair, being Draco and Hermione’s son, Harry had a solid reason to be worried about it – more like, fucking terrified – but he was pleasantly surprised when he found out that the little tyke was all rainbows and butterflies, Scorpius was all sweet-and-candy raindrops.

Swept away by the cuteness, the fun and the sheer adorableness of the moment, Harry couldn’t help himself and began to tickle Scorps on his cheeks and below his chin. And Scorpius, sweet, darling, little Scorpius, laughed even more.

Harry was delighted. It was all fun and games with this kid!

Until…

Ohhhhh-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho…

Un-fucking-til!

Amidst all the laughter, the happiness and the joy, Harry’s arms began to feel increasingly, suspiciously warm. And damp.

And as if lightning had struck him, Harry froze, breath hitching.

Oh.

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

Nnnnnnnooooo, nonononono…

This was not part of the plan.

Feeling as if he was in a horror movie, Harry slowly peered down at the baby in his arms. Scorps’ baby giggles had suddenly subsided, his little face drew a grumpy frown, his doe eyes shimmered like two drops of mercury, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. The tiny infant took in a deep breath, his cheeks puffing up like balloons, and then…

“WWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Yup. Mh-hm. That’s right.

The baby peed. On himself.

“Off to a smashing start, Harry.” He muttered to himself, cringing hard at the fact that he had been alone with the baby for five minutes and he had already managed to get him to wet himself, “Brilliant.” 

…

Draco could not believe he was all suited up. After two weeks sporting nothing but jumpers covered in vomit, snot and drool, wearing a dress-up shirt, a black blazer and a silken necktie genuinely made him feel like he was in a dream.

…Or a nightmare, depending on how he looked at it.

Peeking from behind the stage he was supposed to deliver his speech on, Draco saw how the crowds began to gather and settle in. Rows upon rows of people, their chatter loud and indistinguishable, and the front row was reserved for the finest guests, Prime Ministers and Presidents who had floo’ed in from all around Europe, just to listen to his speech.

The image of Lucius, calmly sipping on his Viognier popped into his mind, his voice echoing loudly inside his head, “…Sloppy, clumsy and unprepared as it might be.”

Shaking the thought off his head, he groaned to himself, “Oh, fuck off, not now.”  

“Uh, ooooo-kay? I just wanted to wish you luck, but if you’re really that nervous, I’ll see myself out…”

When he turned around and saw Hermione, his eyes widened and his hands flew to his head, releasing an apologetic hiss, “Ah, fuck! No, no, no, no, no, I’m sorry, darling. It’s not you, it’s just– My father, the thing he said about a clumsy speech – I just got a flashback and– Argh. Sweet fucking Salazar, I keep on reading what I wrote, and honestly, I can’t help but think it’s trash.”

“Draco–”

“–And then I think to myself, ‘Well, of course it’s fucking trash, Draco. You wrote it in thirty minutes, because in the other four hours and a half, you were either busy with trying to shoo off your parents, or with changing a billion onesies, or with dealing with Potter and his inexperienced nanny services.’”

“Draco. Hey.”

“And then, I think about how I left my baby with that incompetent idiot and hoooooooooly shit. It’s like I can hear Scorpius crying all the way from home – Or laughing like an evil toddler, setting our house on fire.”

“Draaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaacooooo…”

“Which, reminds me… Hey, Granger, did you know that I happened to have accidental bursts of magic from a very early age? OH, SWEET SALAZAR, WHAT IF–”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione opted for the only way she knew would shut him up. As Draco kept on rambling and rambling, she grabbed his tie, pulled him in, and enclosed her lips with his, kissing him. Instantly, Draco relaxed into Hermione’s embrace, closed his eyes and placed his hands on her hips, pulling her close to him. He kissed her deeply and slowly, almost sighing into her lips.

Ah, bliss. That was exactly what he needed.

Slowly pulling away, Hermione rested her forehead against Draco’s, a platinum curl entangling itself with one of her auburn ones, “Draco, love. Can you please shut up for a minute?”

He smiled, a love-drunken, silly smile, thankful that his wife had taken him out of that spiral of crazy thoughts, “Sorry. The nerves.”

Her hand flew up to cup his cheek, her thumb caressing his skin with tenderness, she whispered, “Draco, listen to me. I’ve read your speech. It’s not trash. It’s neither sloppy, nor clumsy–”

“–What about ‘unprepared’?”

“Remind me to give Lucius a smack to the back of his head the next time your parents come over to lunch. Honestly.” She rolled her eyes, “Love, it’s as prepared as it can be. It’s not just the thirty minutes you’ve spent writing these lines – It’s the years of research you’ve spent on this project, the hard work you put into it. The tears, the sweat, and your sheer determination to achieve the results you wanted. You wanted to erase the Dark Mark from your skin, for all the right reasons. And you didn’t stop pushing yourself until you achieved exactly that. It’s not unprepared, Draco. It’s not sloppy, it’s not clumsy – And our baby has not set the house on fire.”  

“Seriously, what is it with this family and ruining their inspirational speeches right at the end?”

“What can I say? It’s fun.” She snorted, “No, but on a serious note – While it’s true that Harry doesn’t have any experience with children, Harry… Well, he’s… Harry. One way or another, he always seems to win. And if our baby decides to drag him through his battlefield of vomit, snot and dirty diapers, and fight him until the bitter end–”

“–Which fucking terrifies me, thank you very much–”

“–Harry will find a way to manage his way through that, err…” She rolled her hand in a circular motion, trying to find the right word, “…War. So, to end my inspirational speech without ruining it – Draco, love. I’m sure our little Scorpius will be fine.”

…

IT WASN’T FINE, IT WASN’T FINE, IT WASN’T FINE!

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!

With the wailing infant in his arms, Harry rushed to Scorpius’ nursery. It wasn’t a rush in the sense that he ran, as he – thank Merlin, Circe and Morgana! – thought it irresponsible to just run with a crying toddler in his arms, especially when it was effectively the first time he’d ever held a baby. No. Rather, his hustle seemed more like a comical waddle, akin to a wobbly penguin in a rush, as his feet shuffled awkwardly and rapidly across the floor.

Waddle, waddle, waddle, waddle!

And even if he was hurrying up as much as he could to finally arrive to Scorpius’ nursery, sweet Merlin, He. Was. So. Slow.

But fortunately, good things came to those who wai—Err, waddled. And so, as he finally reached the nursery, Harry laid Scorpius on his changing table as carefully as it went, and reached for the red box containing the baby powder and the yellow bag with the night-time diapers.

With his hands trembling from the rush of adrenaline and, why even deny it, sheer fucking panic, Harry hovered over Scorpius and attempted to open up the buttons of his onesie. Unfortunately, as the poor baby was so uncomfortable with his bum soaked in a diaper full of pee, Scorpius kept on thrashing and flailing, with his tiny fists and chubby feet up in the air.

And poor Harry, The-Boy-Who-Was-Probably-Bound-To-Die-That-Evening, leaned a bit too close to see the if he was actually unbuttoning the onesie or if he was just fumbling around, when, suddenly, out of the blue…

…KAPOW!

A GLORIOUS KICK TO THE FACE!

The kick had been mighty for a two-week-old newborn, sweet Merlin! In fact, the kick had been so powerful, that Harry’s face actually jerked to the side and his glasses genuinely fell off his face. Lifting his hand to readjust his glasses and soothe his jaw, Harry side-eyed Scorpius, and the memory of Hermione punching Malfoy in the face back in third year suddenly flashed behind his eyes.

Wait a minute. Didn’t Hermione break Malfoy’s nose back then…?

“Oh, wow.” He whistled and his eyes widened, the realisation hitting him hard. If a two-week old was capable of such a kick, Harry didn’t want to even begin to imagine what that punch had felt like, “Mental note – Never mess with ‘Mione. Which basically translates to: Never mess with Scorpius. That being said, I guess it’s best to just get the diaper change over with. Right, Scorpius?”

And suddenly, as if Harry had summoned some kind of deity, Scorpius stopped crying. Instead, the baby looked him dead in the eye, his eyes gleaming with mischief, attempting to shatter all of Harry’s hopes and dreams.

‘Just get the diaper change over with’, he says?

Pffft… BAHAHAHAHAHA!

Oh, Harry.

Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarry, Harry, Harry, Harry…

Sweet, innocent Harry.

Just wait and see what it means to ‘get the diaper change over with’.

Just wait and see.

…