And Baby Makes Three - Home Alone
How hard could it be, really?
That was what Draco told himself when Ginny left Liam in his care for a few hours while she went to lunch with Hermione and did some shopping. She’d feed the baby and put him down for his nap. He’d be out for hours she had told him. Hours. She’d be back before he woke up most likely.
He thought she had an awful lot of faith in him since not only did she leave him alone with the baby, she also gave almost the entire staff the afternoon off. Sure he’d taken care of Liam before, but never completely on his own meaning he was able to hand the baby off to someone else to take care of the more unsavory aspects of child rearing.
But, not today.
He was on his own, well, not really. As soon as Ginny Disapparated, he called Greg over to listen to the Falcons/Harpies Quidditch match on the WWN. There was no way he was going to be alone. Not that Greg knew anything about babies, but the presence of another adult was comforting.
Gregory Goyle had been Draco’s bodyguard of sorts since they were little boys, growing into good friends by their last year at Hogwarts. He threw in his lot with Draco, working secretly against Voldemort. He currently headed up security for D & G International Holdings Company, the legitimatized version of the Malfoy family business. He personally saw to the security of Draco and his family.
Naturally, as soon as Greg appeared he had to check the baby’s head for hair. It had become a ritual every time he saw Liam. He pronounced the baby still bald while lamenting: “I’m never going to see that bottle of Scotch at this rate. Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with him?”
They settled in for an afternoon of listening to Quidditch and man talk which meant that they were gossiping worse than women.
“Do you hear something,” Greg asked, distracted from an intense discussion of Pansy Parkinson’s love life or lack thereof. They were on their fourth round of butterbeers and second bag of crisps. “I think Liam is waking up.”
“No way,” Draco answered, glancing at the clock. Ginny had been gone nearly three hours now. “She said she’d be back before he woke up.” But there was no denying the rustling sound coming from the baby cot on the other side of the game room.
Greg laughed at him. “You know how women are when they get together.”
Draco went to take a peek at his son. Sure enough, he was restless, kicking his legs and fussing. He picked up the baby, holding him against his chest. “What’s the problem little monster?”
Liam rubbed his face against his father’s chest, grabbing a hold of his jumper while continuing to grunt in sleepy frustration.
“Good Merlin, you’re as grumpy as your Mum when she first wakes up,” Draco observed as he bounced the baby gently.
Greg took the opportunity to examine the back of Liam’s head closely. “Nope, not a single hair.”
“Like I don’t check every morning! I know he doesn’t have any hair.” He let out a frustrated sigh.
His friend just laughed at him.
“Do you want a bottle,” he asked hopefully before summoning a bottle from the kitchen. He cast a warming charm and offered it to the baby who promptly refused. “I know it’s not your Mum, but it’s all I got.” He tried again to get Liam to take the bottle, but the he kept pushing the teat out of his mouth every time his father managed to get it in.
“I don’t think he’s hungry,” Greg offered helpfully.
“What do you want Liam?” Draco’s frustration was quickly escalating to a low level panic as the whimpering was dissolving into howls. “Can you tell Daddy that? Please?”
“Uhm, he’s turning red. That isn’t good is it?”
“Where is your mother?”
“Should we floo Pansy, maybe?”
Draco gave his friend his patented dark scowl. “You have got to be kidding me! Pansy? She knows even less about babies than we do!”
“I suppose you’re right,” Greg said, cringing as Liam took the screaming up another octave. “How about Mrs. Weasley?”
“No,” Draco said adamantly. “Ginny’ll find out.”
“So what?”
“So what? I’d never be left alone with Liam again that’s what!”
Greg gave him a very dubious look. “I think my ears are starting to bleed.”
“Okay, he’s not sleepy, not hungry, he’s not sick…he must miss his Mummy.” Draco was desperately avoiding the obvious problem. He’d not changed the first nappy and if all went according to his plan, he’d never have to dirty his hands so to speak.
“Uhm, what about his nappy? I bet he’s soiled. You haven’t checked that yet.”
He just stared at Greg wondering when exactly he grew his current brain because he was being way too helpful for his own good. He was never this helpful while at Hogwarts. “Yes, right, nappy,” his voice faded, trying not to think of the unspeakable horrors were probably lurking in Liam’s nappy. “Upstairs, I suppose.” He Disapperated, unable to stand the crying anymore.
Draco was gathering the things he thought he needed for changing a nappy when Greg appeared with a loud pop.
“You need powder too,” he offered immediately.
“Since when did you become an expert on babies,” Draco queried, sounding eerily like he did at his nastiest.
Greg held up his hands in surrender. “Hey! Just making an observation.”
“Yeah, well, keep ’em to yourself.”
Draco set about undressing his son who had to have had on the most complicated outfit ever. He took up position at the foot of the table as he managed to strip the baby out of his little denim overalls and his light blue cotton one piece after a few minutes of frustrated fumbling with snaps, hooks and buttons. “Your mother should be burned at the stake for putting you in this…this thing.”
“Burning at the stake would be rather pointless or didn’t you pay attention in second year History class?”
“Do you mind?” Draco asked crossly. “And didn’t you fail that class?”
Greg took a step back from the changing table as Draco started to remove the nappy. “No, I didn’t fail. I cribbed off you remember?”
It wasn’t nearly as bad as he feared it would be – the nappy was soaking wet. Dripping wet would be more accurate. Liam started to calm down almost immediately, kicking his feet, the howls of rage subsiding.
“Feels better already doesn’t it,” Draco asked softly as he reached across the table for the cleaning cloths. “To be honest, I would have screamed my head off too.”
“Uh Draco,” Greg said hesitantly while motioning at the baby.
“What,” he started, his hand going to his chest. “What the hell?!” He felt a decidedly warm wetness spreading across the front of his beloved Falcons jumper.
“You might not have wanted to stand there,” Greg’s voice trailed off into a snicker.
A look of utter disgust mingled with abject horror settled on Draco’s features as the realization of the situation set in. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that something like this could happen. All his carefully laid plans to avoid the grosser aspects of having a baby had been for naught. He simply couldn’t believe it; he’d pushed his luck a bit too far.
His son, his precious, beautiful, bald baby boy had just used his favorite jumper as nappy.
Draco did the only thing he knew to do – he stuck his hand down to deflect the flow before Liam’s aim got any higher as he grabbed a clean nappy to soak up the mess.
Greg was doubled over gasping for breath. “Oh Merlin! The look on your face,” he said between pants.
“It’s not that funny!”
“Oh yes it is!”
“If you speak of this to anyone,” Draco threatened while attempting to diaper the baby as quickly as possible so there would be no repeat performance. “And I will be forced to kill you twelve painful ways.”
“Ah, be careful with the pins!”
“Do you honestly think I’d stab my son with a pin?” Draco yelped in pain as he stabbed his thumb, instinctively sticking it in his mouth. He promptly turned a very unnatural shade of green as he realized he just used the same hand to protect his now ruined jumper. He managed to get the nappy haphazardly on the now happily gurgling Liam. “Hold him while I go brush my teeth and change clothes.”
Greg took the powdered covered, naked except for a nappy baby. “I’ll find him some clothes.”
While Draco was gone, he rooted around in the dresser for something to put on Liam that wasn’t too complicated, spilling most of the contents on the floor in the process. He finally opted for a red t-shirt, a multicolored Weasely knitted hat and ducky socks because the baby was squirming too much to attempt anything else, not to mention the nappy was on precariously at best.
“I’m going to have to burn this,” Draco announced as he entered the nursery carefully holding the soiled garment in question out in front of him by the cuff.
Greg looked up from his task of tugging on the last sock. “You can wash it you know.”
“It doesn’t matter! I will forever know that it’s been violated and I cannot in good conscience wear it again.”
“Whatever.”
“There you are! I was wondering where everyone was,” Ginny’s voice trailed off as she took in the total devastation that used to be the nursery. “Just what is going on here?”
“You don’t really want to know,” Draco replied dryly.
Ginny took one look at Liam who was contentedly playing with his feet before leveling her husband and his friend with an angry glare, her ears having gone red. “What have you done to my baby?”
How hard could it be, really?
That was what Draco told himself when Ginny left Liam in his care for a few hours while she went to lunch with Hermione and did some shopping. She’d feed the baby and put him down for his nap. He’d be out for hours she had told him. Hours. She’d be back before he woke up most likely.
He thought she had an awful lot of faith in him since not only did she leave him alone with the baby, she also gave almost the entire staff the afternoon off. Sure he’d taken care of Liam before, but never completely on his own meaning he was able to hand the baby off to someone else to take care of the more unsavory aspects of child rearing.
But, not today.
He was on his own, well, not really. As soon as Ginny Disapparated, he called Greg over to listen to the Falcons/Harpies Quidditch match on the WWN. There was no way he was going to be alone. Not that Greg knew anything about babies, but the presence of another adult was comforting.
Gregory Goyle had been Draco’s bodyguard of sorts since they were little boys, growing into good friends by their last year at Hogwarts. He threw in his lot with Draco, working secretly against Voldemort. He currently headed up security for D & G International Holdings Company, the legitimatized version of the Malfoy family business. He personally saw to the security of Draco and his family.
Naturally, as soon as Greg appeared he had to check the baby’s head for hair. It had become a ritual every time he saw Liam. He pronounced the baby still bald while lamenting: “I’m never going to see that bottle of Scotch at this rate. Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with him?”
They settled in for an afternoon of listening to Quidditch and man talk which meant that they were gossiping worse than women.
“Do you hear something,” Greg asked, distracted from an intense discussion of Pansy Parkinson’s love life or lack thereof. They were on their fourth round of butterbeers and second bag of crisps. “I think Liam is waking up.”
“No way,” Draco answered, glancing at the clock. Ginny had been gone nearly three hours now. “She said she’d be back before he woke up.” But there was no denying the rustling sound coming from the baby cot on the other side of the game room.
Greg laughed at him. “You know how women are when they get together.”
Draco went to take a peek at his son. Sure enough, he was restless, kicking his legs and fussing. He picked up the baby, holding him against his chest. “What’s the problem little monster?”
Liam rubbed his face against his father’s chest, grabbing a hold of his jumper while continuing to grunt in sleepy frustration.
“Good Merlin, you’re as grumpy as your Mum when she first wakes up,” Draco observed as he bounced the baby gently.
Greg took the opportunity to examine the back of Liam’s head closely. “Nope, not a single hair.”
“Like I don’t check every morning! I know he doesn’t have any hair.” He let out a frustrated sigh.
His friend just laughed at him.
“Do you want a bottle,” he asked hopefully before summoning a bottle from the kitchen. He cast a warming charm and offered it to the baby who promptly refused. “I know it’s not your Mum, but it’s all I got.” He tried again to get Liam to take the bottle, but the he kept pushing the teat out of his mouth every time his father managed to get it in.
“I don’t think he’s hungry,” Greg offered helpfully.
“What do you want Liam?” Draco’s frustration was quickly escalating to a low level panic as the whimpering was dissolving into howls. “Can you tell Daddy that? Please?”
“Uhm, he’s turning red. That isn’t good is it?”
“Where is your mother?”
“Should we floo Pansy, maybe?”
Draco gave his friend his patented dark scowl. “You have got to be kidding me! Pansy? She knows even less about babies than we do!”
“I suppose you’re right,” Greg said, cringing as Liam took the screaming up another octave. “How about Mrs. Weasley?”
“No,” Draco said adamantly. “Ginny’ll find out.”
“So what?”
“So what? I’d never be left alone with Liam again that’s what!”
Greg gave him a very dubious look. “I think my ears are starting to bleed.”
“Okay, he’s not sleepy, not hungry, he’s not sick…he must miss his Mummy.” Draco was desperately avoiding the obvious problem. He’d not changed the first nappy and if all went according to his plan, he’d never have to dirty his hands so to speak.
“Uhm, what about his nappy? I bet he’s soiled. You haven’t checked that yet.”
He just stared at Greg wondering when exactly he grew his current brain because he was being way too helpful for his own good. He was never this helpful while at Hogwarts. “Yes, right, nappy,” his voice faded, trying not to think of the unspeakable horrors were probably lurking in Liam’s nappy. “Upstairs, I suppose.” He Disapperated, unable to stand the crying anymore.
Draco was gathering the things he thought he needed for changing a nappy when Greg appeared with a loud pop.
“You need powder too,” he offered immediately.
“Since when did you become an expert on babies,” Draco queried, sounding eerily like he did at his nastiest.
Greg held up his hands in surrender. “Hey! Just making an observation.”
“Yeah, well, keep ’em to yourself.”
Draco set about undressing his son who had to have had on the most complicated outfit ever. He took up position at the foot of the table as he managed to strip the baby out of his little denim overalls and his light blue cotton one piece after a few minutes of frustrated fumbling with snaps, hooks and buttons. “Your mother should be burned at the stake for putting you in this…this thing.”
“Burning at the stake would be rather pointless or didn’t you pay attention in second year History class?”
“Do you mind?” Draco asked crossly. “And didn’t you fail that class?”
Greg took a step back from the changing table as Draco started to remove the nappy. “No, I didn’t fail. I cribbed off you remember?”
It wasn’t nearly as bad as he feared it would be – the nappy was soaking wet. Dripping wet would be more accurate. Liam started to calm down almost immediately, kicking his feet, the howls of rage subsiding.
“Feels better already doesn’t it,” Draco asked softly as he reached across the table for the cleaning cloths. “To be honest, I would have screamed my head off too.”
“Uh Draco,” Greg said hesitantly while motioning at the baby.
“What,” he started, his hand going to his chest. “What the hell?!” He felt a decidedly warm wetness spreading across the front of his beloved Falcons jumper.
“You might not have wanted to stand there,” Greg’s voice trailed off into a snicker.
A look of utter disgust mingled with abject horror settled on Draco’s features as the realization of the situation set in. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that something like this could happen. All his carefully laid plans to avoid the grosser aspects of having a baby had been for naught. He simply couldn’t believe it; he’d pushed his luck a bit too far.
His son, his precious, beautiful, bald baby boy had just used his favorite jumper as nappy.
Draco did the only thing he knew to do – he stuck his hand down to deflect the flow before Liam’s aim got any higher as he grabbed a clean nappy to soak up the mess.
Greg was doubled over gasping for breath. “Oh Merlin! The look on your face,” he said between pants.
“It’s not that funny!”
“Oh yes it is!”
“If you speak of this to anyone,” Draco threatened while attempting to diaper the baby as quickly as possible so there would be no repeat performance. “And I will be forced to kill you twelve painful ways.”
“Ah, be careful with the pins!”
“Do you honestly think I’d stab my son with a pin?” Draco yelped in pain as he stabbed his thumb, instinctively sticking it in his mouth. He promptly turned a very unnatural shade of green as he realized he just used the same hand to protect his now ruined jumper. He managed to get the nappy haphazardly on the now happily gurgling Liam. “Hold him while I go brush my teeth and change clothes.”
Greg took the powdered covered, naked except for a nappy baby. “I’ll find him some clothes.”
While Draco was gone, he rooted around in the dresser for something to put on Liam that wasn’t too complicated, spilling most of the contents on the floor in the process. He finally opted for a red t-shirt, a multicolored Weasely knitted hat and ducky socks because the baby was squirming too much to attempt anything else, not to mention the nappy was on precariously at best.
“I’m going to have to burn this,” Draco announced as he entered the nursery carefully holding the soiled garment in question out in front of him by the cuff.
Greg looked up from his task of tugging on the last sock. “You can wash it you know.”
“It doesn’t matter! I will forever know that it’s been violated and I cannot in good conscience wear it again.”
“Whatever.”
“There you are! I was wondering where everyone was,” Ginny’s voice trailed off as she took in the total devastation that used to be the nursery. “Just what is going on here?”
“You don’t really want to know,” Draco replied dryly.
Ginny took one look at Liam who was contentedly playing with his feet before leveling her husband and his friend with an angry glare, her ears having gone red. “What have you done to my baby?”
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