Parenting Class Chapter Twelve

Disclaimer: I’ve been pondering this…I don’t control your reactions to this fic, but yet I control the character’s. But in a sense, doesn’t Rowling control the characters since she created them? Kami, my brain hurts…

Parenting Class

Life Hurts

It had now been several days since the Hogmeade trip, eleven to be exact. And quite a lot had happened over those days…

For starters, Sparkles had been christened and given a new home. It had been a huge ceremony, equipped fully with holy water (‘blessed’ by Hermione), a little white shirt for Sparkles, and a Baptismal candle.

Draco had posed as the parent to his new charge, and Harry as the priest, Hermione as the audience. As the girl and proud parent watched, Sparkles was dumped and soaked in the water, before emerging and having a drying charm performed.

He was then handed back to his new owner, who promised to love and cherish this newborn. In case you’re wondering…this child is none other then the stuffed dragon Hermione and Harry gave Draco.

After being accepted warmly into the family, Sparkles and Draco were inseparable. Each and every class the dragon would be sitting in the child’s lap, safe in Hermione’s book bag during Care of Magical Creatures, and beside him during meals.

Of course, many other things happened to the child in his stay with his adopted guardians. He managed to pull several pranks on them after getting a hold of Harry’s wand, with Pansy’s help of course.

These little jokes of his included everything from putting a Ton Tongue Toffee in Hermione’s eggs at breakfast to hanging Harry’s clothes like pennants on top of the North Tower, with the help of Harry’s Firebolt.

Both Gryffindors, mainly Harry, had been impressed that the child had been able to control the fastest broom ever created. So of course, the Quidditch loving boy had taken his charge out on several long rides over the lake and around Hogwarts’ grounds.

But then, we must remember that this is Draco, slightly accident prone though he doesn’t mean to be. And with broomsticks, fast speeds, and high winds, come accidents… so that’s how Hermione found herself camped out at the Hospital Wing two nights straight as Draco and Harry were both treated for pneumonia after falling in the ice cold lake.

Madam Pomfrey had said that both were lucky…it was only September and the lake wasn’t as cold as it was in the winter months, though it was still rather chilly for fall.

And of course, Terry provided quite a bit of amusement…Draco and the Ravenclaw had gotten off on rather bad terms. Now, they had to be separated lest Terry try to attack Draco and Draco fight back.

One time, Ron had to physically get in-between the snarling kids and had ended up with tooth marks from Terry all up his left arm as he tried to get at Draco, after the child had ‘accidentally’ pushed a glass of pumpkin juice into Terry’s lap.

Draco had also had his first Herbology Class, and truth tell, was terrified of it. For the entire lesson he had clung to Sparkles and Hermione, convinced all the plants were going to try to eat him.

Hermione was still puzzling over the fact that Draco didn’t mind getting eaten by a dragon, yet the thought of a rather harmless plant (such as the Feathery Florescent Flower) sent him hiding beneath the table.

Currently, Hermione was curled up in an armchair, immersed in Hogwarts, a History, while Harry lounged on the sofa, watching Draco run around the room after Crookshanks, who had his beloved stuffed dragon in his mouth.

“BLOODY CAT!” Draco yelled, “GET YOUR FUZZY, ORANGE ARSE BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!”

“Draco!” scolded Hermione, glancing up from the thick text. “Where on earth did you here those words? Those are bad!”

“From Ron,” the child admitted, hanging his head and stopping his chase.

“Oooh,” the girl fumed, slapping her book shut. “He is going to hear about this! Lavender was right! The children are picking up on his language!” Draco only smiled as Hermione stormed over to the portrait hole.

It swung open obediently and the girl stalked out, only for a loud thump to sound a second later. “Miss Granger! Please look where you’re going!” huffed the Transfiguration professor.

“I’m sorry,” came the muffled reply of the Gryffindor, who was beneath the woman.

With a groan, McGonagall rose to her feet and offered Hermione a hand up. “Were you leaving? I would like you to hear something first.”

‘Maiming Ron can wait,’ Hermione concluded. “Sure, come on in,” she invited, walking back into the room, Leviculus watching the whole exchange with a goofy grin. Both entered and McGonagall seated herself in a second armchair, watching the blond child with amusement as he once more chased the cat around the room for possession of his toy.

“I have something very important to tell you,” the teacher said seriously, reaching into her robes and handing Hermione, who had seated herself next to Harry, a small vial of a dark red potion. “Two weeks have gone by, and it is now time for Mr. Malfoy to become himself again.”

“Already?” Hermione murmured, tears coming to her eyes. “But it can’t have been…”

“It has been fourteen days to this date, Miss Granger. I’ve discussed with Professor Tobin, and we have made a change to the system…only Mr. Malfoy will take a potion today…in two days time, both you and Mr. Potter will take the de-aging potion.”

“Why wait?” asked Harry.

“We feel the students might need a break, to just catch up and talk to their friends, and possibly their partners…and I trust some individuals might even need time to just be alone.”

“Should we give it to him now?” queried Harry, his own voice choked up.

“Yes. It will knock Mr. Malfoy out for several hours…he’ll probably wake up around dinnertime so he can go eat. And all of his clothes inside his trunk and on him will go make to his normal size.”

Hermione paled. “You mean they have to be in the trunk?”

“That’s right…and at their normal size, no shrinking charms.”

With a soft cry, Hermione raced into Draco’s room, the sound of a trunk being slammed down and then opening filling the front room. “What’s Hermione doing with all my clothes?” Draco asked, climbing into Harry’s lap, Sparkles safe in his arms. “She told me to fold them earlier…and now she’s unfolding them.”

“Hermione wants them all in the trunk now,” Harry explained, wiping away the tears gathering in his eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Draco asked softly, reaching up and wiping a tear that Harry hadn’t caught.

“I’ll be going now, Mr. Potter,” announced McGonagall, rising to her feet. Smiling sadly at the child, she ruffled the blond locks and then continued out the door, the portrait closing behind her.

“Got them all to fit!” exclaimed Hermione, exiting Draco’s room with a satisfied smirk on her face. But one look at the child, hugging his dragon and sitting on Harry’s lap sent her into a wave of tears.

“Why are you both crying?” Draco asked again, concern forming on his angelic features.

“Come here, Draco,” Hermione murmured, holding out her arms for the boy. Scrambling off of Harry’s lap, Draco allowed himself to be picked up and carried into his bedroom, Harry trailing behind.

“What’s going on?” Hermione didn’t answer the Slytherin’s question, just sat him down under his covers and sat on the edge of the bed, Harry on the other side. “Did I do something wrong?”

“You did nothing,” Hermione whispered, pushing him so he lay on his pillow. “Absolutely nothing wrong.” Harry, who had been holding onto the stuffed dragon, passed it to the child, who immediately latched onto it.

“Why are you tucking me in? It isn’t even lunchtime yet.”

“You know we love you, right Draco?” Hermione whispered, placing a kiss on his brow. The child nodded, more puzzled then ever. “We need you to drink this for us, okay?” she murmured, holding out the vial.

“Why?”

“It’s…for a test Professor McGonagall is holding…it’ll taste good though,” Hermione assured, voice heavy with tears.

“We’ll always love you and care for you, no matter what,” Harry whispered, placing a kiss on top of the golden head. “Remember that, okay?” Draco gave a nod and sat up, accepting the vial from Hermione.

“You’re right,” he smiled, “it does taste good. Like cranberries!” Hermione pulled the child to her, cradling him in her arms, as he started to go limp, the glass falling from his hand and shattering to the ground, eyes closing in sleep.

Harry pried the child out of Hermione’s arms and laid him back down, having to hold Hermione to keep her from grabbing Draco again. Slowly, as they watched with bated breath, Draco began to change.

Seconds later, a sleeping sixteen-year-old lie on the bed, one arm still wrapped around Sparkles, a peaceful expression on his face. Hermione burst into loud wails, the child they’d cared for now officially gone.

Harry gently grabbed Hermione by her shoulders and led her from the room to the common room couch, sitting her down and pulling her into a hug, attempting to comfort her.

“Why did we have to change him back?” she sobbed, burying her head into Harry’s shoulder. “Why couldn’t we just keep him like that?”

“Because that’s not who he’s supposed to be,” Harry murmured. “At least we got to spend some time with him, right? And who knows? Maybe he’s changed.”

“I hope so,” Hermione mumbled, sitting up and wiping her eyes.

“Besides, you two are destined to be together,” Harry grinned. “And it wouldn’t be much fun if he was still a prat.”

“We were not destined!” Hermione cried, face reddening in embarrassment. “Unexpected could be anyone…like maybe I’d fall in love with Snape!” Harry mentally tried to picture the couple and gagged.

“Don’t ever say that again,” he begged, still chasing away nasty images. “Please, please, please don’t ever say that.”

“I was just making a point,” Hermione sniffed.

For the rest of the day, the two lounged around the common room, neither hungry for lunch. Hermione managed to finish up her homework due on Monday, and still had time to gloat that she was free of Harry’s own work and watch her friend toil through it.

When the clock chimed five, a loud grumble accompanied it. “I think I’m hungry,” Harry chuckled, patting his stomach. “Should we head down to dinner?”

“What about Draco?” Hermione murmured, glancing at the closed bedroom door where the Slytherin still slept. “What if he wakes up?”

“I don’t think we’re going to be the first thing he wants to see,” Harry said softly, placing a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “McGonagall said that some of them would just want to be alone…I think Draco would be under that category. A lot happened to him…he’ll need some time to think about it.”

“I guess you’re right…” Hermione said reluctantly. “But he should be awake now, shouldn’t he? I’ll go ask if he wants to come down with us.”

Harry opened his mouth to say that wasn’t such a good idea, but Hermione was already outside Draco’s door. Her hand twisted the knob, but much to her surprise it was locked. “Draco? Are you okay?” she murmured, not really expecting a reply. She didn’t get one. “Well, he woke up,” she announced softly to Harry, leaving the closed door. “We can bring him something back from dinner…he’s sure to be hungry by then.”

Throwing one last concerned look at the locked door, Hermione exited the portrait and towards dinner. Entering the Great Hall, she was quite sad to see no children at the benches, just all teenagers.

Terry was still sitting at the Gryffindor table, apologizing to everyone. “You should have seen him!” giggled Lavender as Harry and Hermione sat down. “He went up and hugged Snape a few minutes ago!”

Harry stared goggle-eyed at the Ravenclaw. “You did what?”

“Hugged him,” the boy laughed. “I wanted to apologize for biting him earlier…and some of the potion effects are still lingering…like I’m still expecting hugs and I still keep trying to bite.”

“You bit Snape?” Hermione repeated faintly. “I’m honestly surprised you aren’t dead.”

“Us too,” muttered Ron. “From the constant abuse Terry managed to put us through.”

“I said I was sorry!” Terry exclaimed. “I honestly didn’t mean for you to go to the hospital!”

“Uh huh,” the red head grumbled.

“How did your parents ever handle you?” Lavender asked, quite interested in the answer.

Terry rubbed the back of his head. “They didn’t give me any sort of sweet or cake…that’s what made me act like that.”

“We are such idiots,” Lavender groaned, pounding her head against the table. “If we’d only known.” Then a thought occurred to her. “Why didn’t you tell us not to give you candy?”

“Why would I? I was deprived of sugar as a child…you can’t mean to tell me I’d willingly give it up when I knew you and Ron knew nothing about it.”

“Hey, Mione,” said Ginny, sliding into the seat next to her friend. “Where’s Draco?” she asked, looking around the hall. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

“He locked himself in his room,” Hermione said quietly. “He just needs to be alone for a little bit.”

“Hermione? I mean…Granger?” asked a voice from behind the Gryffindor. The girl turned to see Pansy fidgeting behind her, twisting her hair black hair between her fingers.

“It’s Hermione, Pansy,” the girl said firmly, holding out her hand to the Slytherin. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

After a split second decision, Pansy smiled and took the offered hand, giving it a small shake. “I was wondering…do you know where Draco is?”

“Locked in his room,” Hermione said sadly. “Harry and I are just leaving him alone for a little while…he needs some time to think.”

“Oh…all right. Well…when you see him, tell him I said I hope he feels better.” Hermione nodded as Pansy turned and went back to her own table. She had understood what the Slytherin had said…she wanted Draco to know she cared about him and to know she was his friend.

“I’m going to head back to the room,” stated Hermione, wrapping a roll into a napkin. “And I promise not to disturb Draco,” she promised, noticing the look Harry was giving her.

Walking back down the hall, the girl sighed. Everyone else appeared to be all right with their older forms…though embarrassed like Terry perhaps. But Draco…so much she’d learned about him…so much he wanted to keep secret. How could anyone expect to go back to his own ways after going through all that?

Entering the common room, Hermione sat down on the couch, and picked up a book to read, desperate to get her mind off of Draco. But after seconds of reading, a soft noise disturbed her concentration and she set the book aside.

Creeping up to the Slytherin’s door, she pressed her ear against it, the sound now distinguishable. Crying. Draco was crying. At once, the mothering instincts she’d started to react to kicked in. Trying the door, she glared at the brass knob when it refused to turn.

“Alohamora,” she breathed, flicking her wand at the door. Silently, the door opened and Hermione entered, feeling her own eyes mist up at the sight laid out before her. Draco was still in his black robes he’d been wearing, and still beneath the covers, though he was curled up around Sparkles, shoulders shaking with soft sobs.

Crossing silently over to the bed, Hermione clambered up and slid under the covers beneath the crying boy, arms hesitantly wrapping around him in a hug. Draco didn’t push away like she’d expected, he merely pulled her to him and buried his face against her.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, rubbing small circles on his back. “Everything is all right.”

With a sudden jolt, Draco sat up and shoved the Gryffindor away, silver eyes glittering with anger and tears. “Nothing is all right,” he hissed, “and it never will be.”

“Draco…”

He roughly pushed her hand off of his shoulder, before drawing back farther on his bed. “Just leave me alone, Granger….please,” he whispered brokenly.

“I just want to let you know…what Harry and I said was true. We really do love you, Draco…and we just want to help.”

“I don’t need any help,” the Slytherin murmured, looking down at his clasped hands. “If you’d wanted to help me, you wouldn’t have been born.”

Hermione recoiled like she’d been slapped, a hurt look washing over her face. “That really isn’t you talking,” she said after a minute, eyes downcast. “You told me so many times you loved me…that must have meant something.”

“It didn’t,” Draco snarled. “Just forget any of that ever happened.”

“It did happen, and I won’t forget. During those two weeks, you were a human Draco. You weren’t afraid to show your feelings, tell us your problems, allowed us to comfort you. You didn’t mind being told you were loved for, you accepted the hugs we gave you. Don’t you dare try and tell me that was nothing.”

“Maybe I just want it to be nothing,” Draco retorted. “I didn’t want you in my life…why did you have to be nice to me?” he whispered, tears trickling down his cheeks. “Why couldn’t you just ignore me and throw me away? Then this wouldn’t have happened.”

“What wouldn’t have happened?” Hermione asked quietly, inching closer and cupping his cheek in her hand, thumb wiping away the tears. Draco stiffened, but didn’t move.

“You wouldn’t have made me care about you.”