Parenting Class Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer: Last time I checked, I didn’t own Harry Potter…let me go check again…nope, no gigantic news blowups, no post, and no media. Guess I still don’t own it.

Parenting Class

Daddies and Dobby!

Noteh- Beginning of chappie is more of drama/angst then humor. Gomen!

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy,” Harry greeted, his hand clutching his wand tightly, jaw clenched. Draco’s eyes had widened in fear and Hermione had pulled him into her arms, placing his hood over his head to hide the shocking blond hair, since it appeared Lucius hadn’t seen him yet.

Ginny placed a hand over Pansy’s mouth and drew the child behind her. Blaise and Neville, sensing something was wrong, held their wands as well. “And a pleasant day to you, Potter. I trust it is another Hogsmeade weekend and you and your friends aren’t sneaking out as usual?”

“It is,” the jet-black haired boy said evenly. “May I enquire as to what you’re doing here?”

“That is none of your business, Potter. But if I could ask, have you seen my son anywhere? He hasn’t written me all year and I am beginning to feel a bit worried.” Harry detected a glimmer of malice in the man’s silver eyes and felt a shudder pass through him.

“No, I haven’t seen him all day.”

The cold eyes raked over Harry to Hermione and then down to the child in her arms. He looked back up and noticed Harry standing protectively in front of the girl. “And who might the child be?”

“None of your business,” Harry growled.

It was at that moment, the wind chose to pick up and the black hood blew off, revealing the Malfoy trademark silvery blond hair. Lucius’ eyes widened. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, eyes burning into Hermione.

“P-professor Dumbledore is…he’s…” the girl was at a loss of words, not certain how to explain their project without saying anything to confuse the children. Although since Lucius was obviously very mad, it appeared that he hadn’t allowed Draco to visit Hogwarts like Hermione had told the child, and it puzzled him even more.

“I can’t believe it,” Lucius muttered. “My son, hanging out with Potter and a Mudblood. What has the world come to be?”

“Don’t call her that!” protested Draco, turning his head out Hermione’s robes and glaring at this father, though he still looked terribly frightened. “She has magic in her…just like everyone else here.”

“What did you just say to me?” Lucius hissed, drawing his own wand out and aiming it at Draco.

Harry stepped in front of Draco and Hermione, emerald eyes glimmering angrily. “Don’t you dare do anything you’ll regret.”

“Don’t worry Potter,” Lucius smirked. “I never regret anything.” A stunning spell shot off the end of the man’s wand, followed by a small explosion as another spell hit the ground and caused waves of dirt to billow up, blinding everyone.

Hermione felt Draco being torn from her arms, his cries soft against the loud swearing coming from Blaise as he tried to get out of the fog. “DRACO!” she screamed, yanking back on the child’s robes. After that, all she saw was a red light speeding at her before everything went dark.

Lucius clamped a hand over his son’s mouth and exited the pandemonium, before apparting away, Draco struggling in his arms. Seconds later, the two appeared farther inside the forest that bordered Hogsmeade.

The elder Malfoy’s face was livid as he threw Draco to the floor, the child trembling in fear. “What do you think you are doing?” he snarled, staring down at the boy, who was curled up in a tight ball on the forest floor.

“Hermione said Professor Dumbledore worked everything out with you,” Draco sniffled. “She said I wouldn’t get in trouble.”

“Well you are in trouble, you brat. What do you think you’re doing with a Mudblood? They’re not to be associated with in any way! Do you understand me? DO YOU?” he thundered, when Draco remained silent.

“Hermione’s nice,” Draco whispered. “And I like her…. More then you.”

A second later, Draco had left his spot on the ground and was airborne, before flying into a tree trunk and crumpling after his momentum had stopped at the base of the pine. “She doesn’t treat me like this,” he sobbed, pressing his back against the trunk as Lucius stepped closer. “She cares about me!”

“And what makes you think I don’t care?” Lucius hissed, silver eyes glittering before his hand lashed out and slapped the child across his face. “What makes you think I don’t care about you?” he repeated, wrapping his left hand around Draco’s neck and lifting him into the air.

Draco didn’t answer, only sobbed harder, his hands pulling at Lucius’s, trying to break free. In disgust, the man threw him to the ground, the child’s head cracking against a half cut stump rising up.

“Is this the child I raised?” Lucius continued, kicking Draco so that the boy rolled several feet across the ground. “Someone so weak? So feeble minded? Is this truly my son?”

“I…don’t want…to be…your son,” Draco whimpered, sitting up and placing a hand to his head and then drawing it away, brilliant red blood clinging to it. “You’ve never cared about me…Hermione and Harry…both do. They love me!”

“What they’re telling you is lies!” snarled Lucius, backhanding the child across the face once more, a large red print the sign of the abuse. “They don’t care at all about you, Draco. Only I care.”

“No you don’t!” Draco cried, scrambling to his feet and backing away. “If you cared you wouldn’t hurt me!”

“And if they cared, wouldn’t they be here right now?” Draco stopped his retreat, silver eyes widening. “If they truly cared, then where are they?”

“We’re right here,” Harry announced, emerging from the trees behind Lucius, his wand drawn and pointed at the man, everyone else’s aimed at him as well. Pansy was standing next to Hermione, helping the girl to stand up, as she still seemed rather shaky. “And if you dare touch him once more, you will be sorry.”

“We can send you to the authorities for child abuse,” Hermione hissed, honey eyes sparkling with rage.

“I’m so sorry, dear Mudblood,” Lucius sneered. “In the wizarding world, this sort of thing is legal. So there’s no point in reporting…nothing will come of it.” In a quick pop, the man apparated away, the space he once occupied bare.

Harry sprinted across the clearing to Draco, who was sitting on the ground, one hand clutched to his head and the other sitting carefully in his lap. “Oh my god,” Harry murmured, scooping the child into his arms and cradling him against his chest.

“You came,” Draco whispered, looking up at Harry with tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Of course we came…we love you Draco…I’m only sorry we didn’t get her sooner. It was really hard to figure out where you’d gone, but Ginny got a location charm working and we tracked you.”

By now, the rest of the group had gathered around, Hermione standing on her own. Reaching over, she plucked Draco from Harry and hugged him to her, tears dripping down her face.

“Let’s head back to the castle,” Neville suggested softly. “Cover Draco up so no one will see him…then you all have some explaining to do.”

Harry shed his cloak and wrapped it around and over Draco, now sobbing softly in Hermione’s embrace. In a solemn silence, they all made their way back to where the carriages were waiting, Pansy anxiously glancing at the shaking bundle in Hermione’s arms, her eyes wide with fright and concern.

They boarded the transports quietly, each sitting silent with their own thoughts, all revolving around the Slytherin. As soon as the carriages disembarked, everyone followed Hermione to the jester’s portrait.

“And how was the trip?” Leviculus asked cheerfully, juggling knives around his head.

“Parvulus,” Harry said quietly. “We’re really not in the mood to talk now, Leviculus…sorry,” he apologized, seeing the jester’s down trodden face. With a sigh, the portrait swung open and everyone entered, Ginny blinking several times, since she was the only one who had never yet experienced the stunning quality of the ‘Rainbow Room’ as Pansy had dubbed it.

Hermione sat down on one of the pumpkin colored couches and removed Harry’s cloak off of Draco, her frown deepening as she saw the amount of blood clinging to his head. “It doesn’t look like it’s too deep…Harry, can you go get me a rag from the bathroom and water?” The boy nodded and entered the bathroom.

Neville seated himself in one of the armchairs and Blaise took the other. Ginny sat next to Hermione on the left and Pansy scrambled into the free lap. Harry came out a few seconds later and handed the cloth to his fellow parent, who began to dab at the shallow cut on Draco’s head.

“All done,” she comforted a few minutes later, giving the child a kiss on top of his head, away from the injury. “Does anything else hurt?”

Draco shook his head softly, though the bruises around his neck and the ones forming on his face denied that fact. Hermione gave him a gentle hug, surprised when he stiffened and tried to pull away.

With a sigh, Hermione stood up, Draco snug in her arms. “We’ll be back in a few minutes she murmured, starting for Draco’s bedroom.

The other students waited, shedding their extra robes and cloaks on the floor, seeing as the fire was providing an adequate amount of warmth already. “Is Draco going to be okay?” Pansy asked, tugging on Ginny’s sleeve, her voice very loud in the silence.

“He will,” Ginny assured, hugging the girl tightly. “Hermione will make him all better.”

At that moment, Hermione and Draco emerged, the boy clothed in a pair of dark green pajamas Hermione had bought earlier that day for him, a bandage wrapped around his head and a fuzzy red blanket wrapped around him.

“How badly was he hurt?” asked Ginny, giving the child a sad smile.

“Not as bad as I thought,” Hermione said softly. “He does have some bruising on his back and stomach, from god knows what, and some on his neck and face. And then the cut on his head, but it isn’t really too deep.”

“What is going on, Hermione?” demanded Neville.

“One thing before I answer that…Blaise, is what Lucius said true?”

“Is what true?” the Slytherin asked.

“That child abuse isn’t illegal?”

“It’s true,” he sighed. “Look at it like this. Most people associate the Malfoy family with the Dark arts and you-know-who, right?” Hermione nodded. “Just last year, he was arrested at the ministry with a ton of other Death Eaters. But where is he now? Walking the streets with all the other wizards and witches.”

“But he was convicted,” the witch protested. “Why isn’t he rotting away in Azkaban?”

“The Malfoy name represents money and power,” Blaise explained. “He can just as easily buy himself out of a lifelong sentence then he can for abusing his kid. As far as the ministry knows, he could have murdered thousands of innocents as his time as a Death Eater yet he still goes free. Do you really think they’ll arrest him for hurting his own child?”

“But it isn’t fair! What did Draco do to deserve any of this?”

“Most pureblood families do keep a strict reign on their heirs. It can go anywhere from ignorance, to abuse, to death if they get too angry. Fortunately, if they do murder their child, they will be tried and sent away for a little while at least.”

“All purebloods?” Harry whispered in astonishment.

“Not true,” Ginny intervened. “I’m from a pureblood family and nothing like that goes on at my house. And you are too Neville, aren’t you?”

“I am…and nothing like that ever happens.”

“Difference is, you two were born into a different kind of pureblood family. Most purebloods do side with he-who-must-not-be-named, and therefore have some type of family problems. Every single Slytherin in this school is a pureblood, and I bet you most of them have the same kind of family problems Draco does.”

“What about you?” asked Ginny, looking at the black haired Slytherin with concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m only pretty much ignored at home,” Blaise said. “Much better, I think, then being recognized and followed everywhere. You learn to just blend it after a while and then everything goes all right for me.”

“What about you,” Ginny asked, hugging Pansy on her lap. “Are your parents nice?”

“Not really,” the girl murmured. “Father yells a lot but he’s never hit me…only mother. And mother does love me…she tells me so every night when she tucks me in.”

“Your dad hits your mom? Can’t he be arrested for that?” demanded Hermione.

“No,” said Blaise. “Marriage is an eternal bond in pureblood families. The wife basically pledges her life to her husband and has to listen to whatever he says. They have literally no freedom after they say their vows. So going to the ministry would most likely go against their husband’s wishes meaning they can’t do it.”

“That’s terrible,” Hermione muttered, hugging Draco tighter.

“Hermione?” Draco said softly. “Can I go to bed? Please?”

Sensing the child wanted to be by himself she nodded and let him slide from her lap. “Do you want me to come with you, Draco?” asked Pansy. After a moment’s hesitation, Draco nodded and Pansy scampered over to him, taking his hand and leading him into his bedroom, the door closing with a soft thud.

“I was right,” Ginny declared, though a sad smile filled her face. “Lucius did abuse him.”

“How did you know?” asked Harry.

“When he came to dinner that first night, he seemed frightened of you, Harry. And even later he still seemed scared. So that one night, after the trip to St. Mungo’s, I told him you cared about him and would never hurt him. And then right before he tricked me the day after during breakfast, he told me I was right.”

“So that’s why he let me comfort him that night it stormed,” mused Harry. “Because you told him I was nice…I think he did say something to me about that too.”

“Should we tell Dumbledore?” asked Blaise. “I mean, normally a Slytherin wouldn’t go to him at all, but should we at least let him know? I mean, maybe he could stay with Snape over the summer.”

“We’ll ask Draco about it when he turns back to sixteen,” said Hermione firmly. “For all we know, Lucius may not do that sort of thing to him at his normal age and he’s fine. I mean, he does always talk about his father.”

“Good point…but it might just be cover-up. Guess we’ll just have to wait a while, huh?”

“You know what I think would cheer him up?” suggested Harry. “What if we took him down to the kitchens to see Dobby? From what he’s said, he appeared to like Dobby.”

“Great idea, Harry!” squealed Hermione. “We can all go get some hot chocolate too…how about we all meet back here at eight tonight? We’ll sneak down and then be back in bed before anyone even notices we’re gone.”

“Did I just hear you say ‘sneak’?” grinned Blaise. “Who would have ever guessed? Smartest witch, Hermione Granger, goodie two shoes wants to ‘sneak’ out. I for one, am all for it. You wouldn’t happen to be with anyone right now, would you?” he winked.

“She has her eye on someone already,” Ginny smirked, earning her a hard elbow in the ribs. “Well, it’s true. She just doesn’t want anyone to know.”

“I think I know who it is,” chuckled Harry. “Might it be-”

Hermione clamped a hand over the Gryffindor’s mouth. “It’s no one,” she growled playfully. “Let’s leave it a secret, shall we?” Harry nodded and she released him.

“Well then, I’ll go get Pansy and we’ll be back at eight,” said Neville, rising to his feet. Hermione went with her friend to Draco’s room and peeped the door open.

“Why don’t you just leave her here? Harry and I will watch her,” Hermione smiled, looking at the children. They lay underneath the covers together, dried tear tracks on Draco’s face and Pansy’s arms wrapped around him in a hug, both fast asleep.

“You sure?”

“Positive. Having her around might make Draco feel better anyway.”

“All right then.” Both exited the doorway and Neville picked up his coat from the floor. “See you tonight then.”

“I’ll see you guys later,” said Ginny, giving Harry a kiss on the cheek. “Although someone might want to explain to Dobby what’s going on. Like maybe he can say Lucius let him come over to learn a new recipe or something.”

“I’ll go run down and let him know now,” Harry said. “Be back in a few.” Wrapping an arm around his girlfriend, they both exited the room, her head resting on his shoulder. Hermione stared after them before heaving a sigh.

Crossing the room, she entered her bedroom and changed into a fresh set of clothes, free of mud and brambles from the forest. Dragging her book bag over to her bed, she dumped out pieces or parchment and began to scribble furiously, eyes scanning the History of Magic text every few moments in front of her.

She was just about to begin her Potions essay, when she heard her door creak open. Looking up, she saw Pansy enter her bedroom, the girl shaking with her arms wrapped around herself.

“Something is wrong with Draco,” she whispered. “He’s crying and won’t wake up.”

Rolling off the bed, Hermione dashed into Draco’s room and onto the bed next to the boy. “Wake up,” she urged, pulling him into her lap and shaking him gently. “Come on, Draco. It’s a nightmare, only a bad dream…only a dream.”

With a gasp, Draco started in her arms and glanced wildly around, eyes wide with fright. “It’s okay,” Hermione comforted, stroking his hair. “You’re safe.” Slowly, his breathing began to return to normal, his body relaxing.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“What’s there to be sorry for? It’s all right for you to be scared…I still get scared all the time.”

Pansy leaned over and hugged her friend. “Are you okay, Draco?” she whispered. He gave a small nod.

“Guess what?” said Hermione brightly, trying to lighten up the rather somber mood. “Later tonight we’re all going to go down to the kitchens…and we have a surprise for you there, Draco. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

Pansy, glanced over her shoulder out Draco’s door and at the orange couches. “Where did Blaise and Neville go?” she queried.

“They’re going to meet us at eight…we didn’t want to wake you up earlier so we let you sleep.”

“Where’s Harry?” asked Draco.

“On an errand,” the girl said evasively. “He’ll be back shortly with dinner probably. He must know we’re all hungry.”

“I’m back,” called Harry from the portrait. “And I brought dinner.”

“Told you,” beamed Hermione. She’d had the feeling the house elves wouldn’t let her friend just leave empty handed and her hunch had proved correct. Placing Draco on her hip and taking one of Pansy’s hands, Hermione exited the bedroom and into the common room.

“Looks yummy,” commented Pansy, sitting down at the pink table. She reached out her hand for a cream filled pastry only to have Hermione swat at it.

“Have some chicken first,” the older girl ordered, setting a plate of grilled chicken and mashed potatoes before Pansy and another plate before Draco. “After that you can have a pastry.”

“Then how come Harry gets one?” pouted Pansy.

Harry froze, a glob of chocolate crème falling from his mouth as he gave a sheepish grin at Hermione. “Harry James Potter! No sweets before dinner! You know that!”

“Thowy Wiwe,” Harry chewed, swallowing the last of his dessert. “But it looked so good!”

“And you want the kids to have that attitude about food? Only eat what they think looks good?”

“No…”

“Then don’t do it!”

“All right, I get it,” Harry grumbled, raising his hands in front of him to ward Hermione off.

Her attention turned back to the children as she supervised their meal, making sure they didn’t sneak any sweets. Harry, feeling much like a dog who’d been punished, sulked quietly in his armchair, throwing death glares at the sweets that had so tempted him.

After they finished the meal and dessert (Harry didn’t get anymore, much to his displeasure), the group sat down on the braided rug in front of the roaring fire, allowing its warmth to play over their faces.

Hermione carefully examined the bruising on Draco’s face and neck, adding a little ointment that reduced the swelling. “Could you drink this for me?” she asked Draco, holding out a small cup of a dark blue liquid. “It’s a concealment potion,” she said, noticing the raised eyebrow. “If we meet anyone in the halls I don’t want them to see those marks.”

Obediently, Draco took the cup and drank it, a grimace on his face. “That tasted awful,” he moaned, taking the offered cup of water from Harry.

“You can’t have expected it to taste like cherries,” Hermione grinned. “But at least it did its work.” Like magic, which it was, the bruises had melted away into the boy’s pale skin, leaving it unblemished and pure.

The portrait swung open a second later to reveal Ginny, Neville, and Blaise. “How did you get in?” asked a bewildered Hermione.

“I remembered the password,” said Ginny proudly. “Shall we be going?”

All three were dressed in pajamas; ready to pretend they were sleepwalking if anyone caught them. “I have a some pajamas for Pansy,” said Neville. The little girl took the articles from the boy with a smile and retreated into the bathroom.

“Let me go get ready,” said Hermione. Harry left to his own room as well and emerged seconds later, clothed in an overlarge tee shirt and a pair of red and gold plaid pants. Soon, the group found themselves walking down the halls, Ginny’s wand the only light source. Draco was curled up in Hermione’s arms and Pansy in Blaise’s, both children wanting to be secure in the pressing darkness.

They arrived minutes later outside a portrait of a bowl of fruit, and Pansy and Draco glanced at each other. “Where does that lead to?” Pansy asked as Harry stepped up and ran his hands over a green pear.

With a shrill laugh, the fruit morphed into a door handle and Harry pulled it open. “To the kitchens,” he said with a smile. “Everyone in.”

Draco and Pansy’s eyes, as well as Blaise and Neville, who had never been to the kitchens before, widened as they took in the busy scene. House elves dashed across the floor, some cooking at huge stoves, others washing dishes, and some sweeping and mopping.

Steam and smoke poured over one section of the kitchen from the ovens, and loud, high-pitched voices chattered in non-stop sentences. One house elf broke away from the main bustle and sprinted at the group.

“Master Draco! Dobby is so glad you came to visit!” cried the excited elf, squeezing Draco around the middle.

“Dobby?” the boy asked, looking the elf over. “Dobby!” he squealed, toppling them both over as he hugged the creature back.

“Master Draco….please…Dobby is…ticklish!” the elf laughed, trying to get out from beneath the child, who was currently running his hands over the creature’s stomach, a grin on his face.

“Aww, aren’t they cute,” cooed Hermione, snapping a photo. “It really was a good idea to bring him down here,” she said quietly to Harry. “Look how happy he is.”

Pansy dashed in to join the tickle fight, the three’s laughter ringing out above the kitchen sounds, a sound of happiness and delight. Making a roll across the floor, Dobby managed to escape the Slytherins before casting some of his own magic, effectively pinning them gently to the floor, the children still in peals of laughter.

“Would you like Dobby to get Harry Potter and his friends hot chocolate?” asked the elf, bowing before the group.

“That’d be great, Dobby,” Harry smiled. “Do you have someplace we can sit too?” Nodding his green head enthusiastically, Dobby led the group over to a table in the back of the kitchen, a blue and white checkered tablecloth thrown over top with a vase of flowers in the middle.

“Dobby will go release Master Draco and Mistress Pansy and will then get you hot chocolate.” Scampering off, the elf disappeared into the midst of its kind, two children, holding onto each other for support, still laughing, emerged seconds later and made their way to the table.

“What is Dobby doing here?” giggled Pansy. “I thought he was supposed to be at your house, Draco.”

“He came here to learn how to make a pudding dish,” Hermione said quickly. She was thankful that Dobby had shed his hats and socks, so that Draco wouldn’t be suspicious when he saw his family elf with clothes.

“I hope he makes it makes it when I get back home,” the boy smiled.

“I’m sure he will,” Hermione smiled back. “Oh, look! Here come our drinks!”

Carefully, Dobby set down a tray with steaming cups. Each mug held a rich, dark liquid topped with a dollop of whipped cream and a little candy cane hooked on the side. “Thank you very much, Dobby,” Hermione thanked, taking a sip. “It’s delicious!”

“It was no problem, Hermione Granger,” Dobby blushed, tracing a circle on the ground with his foot.

“Won’t you join us?” asked Harry.

“Dobby…join Harry Potter and Master Draco?” the house elf whispered. “Dobby would love to!” he exclaimed, conjuring a stool and clambering up on it next to Draco.

“I’m glad to see you again, Dobby,” Draco smiled, leaning over and giving the house elf a hug. “But won’t Father be mad you’re not at home?”

“No…Master Lucius knows Dobby is here,” the house elf stated, earning a relived sigh from Harry, afraid the elf had forgotten what he’d told him to say.

For the next hour, the group chatted, Draco content though to just sit next to his long time friend and caregiver, drinking his hot chocolate and nibbling on the shortbread cookies another house elf had brought over.

“I think it’s time we get going, Dobby,” announced Harry, rising to his feet and stretching. “Pansy and Draco should be in bed.”

“But we’re not….tired,” yawned Pansy, blinking sleepily. Neville smiled at his charge and scooped her into his arms, the girl falling asleep a second later.

“Good bye, Dobby,” Draco said tearfully, giving the elf one last hug.

“Dobby will see Master Draco later,” Dobby smiled, returning the hug. “Take care Harry Potter and friends.” With good nights exchanged, the students took leave of each other, Ginny stealing off for Gryffindor Tower and Blaise’s group for their little home, Harry’s group theirs.

“That was a nice way to end the evening,” yawned Harry as they entered the safety of their room. “About time for bed too.”

All three trooped into the bathroom to brush their teeth and then all to Draco’s room to tuck the child in, his eyelids already drooping. “Draco,” said Hermione softly. “Harry and I want to give you something before you fall asleep.”

The child looked at them with interest, blinking the sleep away from his eyes. Harry reached behind him and picked up a box from the floor and handed it to the boy. “Mione and I made it for you last night,” he said with a grin. “We hope you like it.”

Pulling the paper off in strips and piling the ribbon in a neat coil, Draco took the lid off the package, a gasp of surprise welling up in his throat. “I can really have this?” he whispered, tears pooling in his eyes.

“It’s all yours,” Hermione said softly. Draco reached into the box and cradled the item to him. It was a soft, plush green dragon that the Gryffindors had sewed and stitched without magic the day before. Felt black eyes and silver glitter over the emerald scales completed the magnificence of the animal, the wings shining and flexible.

“Thank you so much,” Draco murmured, hugging it before jumping up and wrapping his arms around both of his guardian’s necks, their arms encircling him.

“You’re welcome, Draco,” Hermione whispered. “You’re so very welcome.”