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Neferteenie
Author of 9 Stories |
Disclaimer:
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Just a small note, this is an AU story. It disregards the fifth and sixth book completely. Maybe the fourth book too. Not sure yet...But just letting you know it’s an AU story.
Chapter Two
Celeste Malfoy was no exception. Like Draco had said, Celeste usually chose what she wanted to do during the day. But she didn’t have any set schedule, which was slowly driving Hermione insane. Especially since Hermione desperately needed organization to survive. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it still held some truth to it.
For the past week, Celeste had been playing with her dolls every single day. So Hermione had set out the dollhouse, in anticipation of some normalcy, finally. She was quite happy when Celeste came into her playroom after breakfast, and immediately began playing with her dolls. It amazed Hermione at times, how someone could be so engrossed in something so simple. To be that young and carefree again...
But then halfway through the day, Celeste had tossed down her dolls and declared that it was time to see Daddy. Not knowing what to do, since “Daddy” had left no instructions on what to do if this should happen, Hermione just stared at her. That’s when the tears began to form.
“Oh poppet,” Hermione said, gathering Celeste in her arms. “We can’t see ‘Daddy’ right now. He’s at work, busy.”
“Please?” Celeste asked, looking at Hermione with wide, innocent grey eyes, tears trickling from them. “Daddy won’t mind. I’m his angel.” Celeste sniffled.
Hermione couldn’t stand watching Celeste so distraught, so she agreed. Celeste was a darling, and she had Hermione under her control. It was pretty pathetic, for a twenty-six year old woman to be ruled by a five-year old little girl. But Celeste was such a sweetheart, who could ever turn her down?
Ah yes, Celeste’s mother of course. Hermione had been curious about that, but had never been one to pry. Oh, who was she kidding? The first chance she got, she asked Pansy what had happened. Apparently, Celeste’s mother had decided motherhood was not for her and had up and left without any notice. She had just left Celeste in her cot, packed her belongings, and left.
Hermione listened to all of this with shock and horror etched on her face. Who could do that to a poor defenseless, little baby? Leaving them to fend on their own, for even a few moments, was absolutely horrible. Personally, Hermione thought Celeste was better off without such a mother.
Then there were the other nannies. The first one had been good, but when she neared her sixty-fifth birthday, she decided it was time to retire and see the world. So Malfoy was out one of the best nannies that could be found. The next one was young, in her earlier twenties. She had kept coming on to Draco, who would try to politely reject her. A couple of weeks after she was hired, she was checked into St. Mungo’s. Nobody ever found out the true cause why. Draco, upon coming home from work, had found her rocking on the floor, mumbling to herself, her eyes looking sunken in. After that, nannies came and went, in all age ranges. None lasted for more than three weeks. Hermione had set a new record.
She gathered a traveling cloak for Celeste, as well as one for herself. Then she took Celeste’s hand, threw some Floo Powder into the fireplace, and said “Malfoy Enterprises, Draco Malfoy’s office.” They soon vanished into the green flame, before Hermione could reconsider her rash decision.
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Hermione tripped out of the fireplace in Draco’s office and fell with a thump. Celeste fell unto her, quite gracefully actually. Hermione wondered how that had happened. She was sure Celeste had been in front of her. Oh well, it was for the better she supposed. At least she didn’t need to worry about having squashed the little girl.
She lay on the soft carpeting of Draco Malfoy’s office floor, trying to catch her breath, stalling for time. She had no idea how Draco would react to their intrusion. What if they interrupted something important? But before she even had time to contemplate a reasonable explanation, Celeste was ambling off of her and running towards her daddy.
“Daddy!” Celeste gurgled with glee, as Draco picked her up.
Hermione decided it was time to face her fate. She looked up from where she was still sprawled across the floor, wary of Draco Malfoy’s wrath for interrupting his business day. But she had no need because what she found was a very happy Malfoy laughing with a very happy, very giggly Celeste.
She plopped back down on the floor and closed her eyes in relief. She stayed that way, until she felt a shadow loom over her. Opening her eyes, she found herself staring into laughing blue eyes and an outstretched hand. She waved the hand away and helped herself to her feet, scowling at the man with the blue eyes. After all, he had helped Ginny conspire to get her in this position. Yes, she was still miffed about that.
“Good to see you, Hermione,” the blue-eyed man said, bringing Draco’s attention to her.
“Can’t say the same about you, Blaise,” Hermione muttered, with a slight smile, causing Blaise to laugh.
“Blaise, will you excuse us please?” Malfoy asked, while setting Celeste down on the plush couch he had in his office.
“Sure, Malfoy. But not before I get a hug from the most adorable girl in the world,” he looked pointedly at Hermione, “and I don’t mean you, Hermione.”
Celeste giggled before bounding off of the chair that she was just set on and running towards a kneeling Blaise. She gave him a tight hug and didn’t let go, even when he began to stand up, until he set her down again.
“Am I your favorite, Uncle Blaise?” Celeste asked, with no modesty at all.
“Of course,” Blaise replied, with a wink. “Just don’t let Auntie Ginny know, okay?”
Celeste giggled some more. “You’re so funny, Uncle Blaise.”
Blaise smiled at her and began to walk out. Before he was out the door, he turned around and gave Draco a look that Hermione couldn’t decipher but that made Draco tense.
“Get out Blaise,” Draco commanded, tersely.
As soon as Blaise left, Hermione began to feel nervous. In the past month, she had often made it a point to avoid Draco Malfoy as much as she possibly could. She had learned, from an incident about two weeks ago, that he could still inspire the same feelings that she had for him at Hogwarts. She also found out that the slightest touch, the slightest skim of skin on skin, could send pleasant tremors throughout her body and leave her aching for more contact. She had always felt embarrassed afterward. After all, she was there to do a job...as the nanny. It was definitely not right to be thinking about her employer in that light. No doubt, he would not be amused if he knew of her thoughts.
And now. She glanced at him warily. What was Malfoy thinking now? Was she in trouble for interrupting something important? Was he plotting her untimely death for interrupting whatever he had been doing? And now that Blaise was gone, there would be no witnesses of her demise. A giggly little five-year old didn’t count as a witness. Hermione was so busy contemplating any and every possible argument for her favor, that she didn’t realize that Draco Malfoy was staring at her intently.
Hermione gulped.
“Umm...I’m, er, sorry about the intrusion...”
Draco held up his hand, interrupting her with something she wasn’t expecting—
“It’s fine. It’s about lunchtime anyway. Why don’t we all go grab a bite to eat?”
—an invitation to lunch.
Of course, it wasn’t going to be just the two of them, as Hermione had so often fantasized about in her school days. Celeste would be there, too. But she still couldn’t help but gape in surprise and, dare she admit it, pleasure. Maybe Ginny was right. Maybe working for Draco Malfoy would give her some ounce of courage to make a move on the man she had been lusting after for years. Maybe.
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Draco took them to an informal little deli across the street from his offices in wizard London. It had a big glass window in the front, with a white Marino Deli sign painted on in nice, cursive writing. Each wall was painted a different, each color warm and inviting. There were several small tables pushed up against the wall, leaving a clear path from the door to the counter and the middle of the room open. As they entered, several other patrons and the kind-looking old woman behind the counter waved at Draco. From what Hermione could tell, he was quite the regular here.
They chose a table by the window, and Celeste got serious about the business at hand as soon as she was seated.
“Daddy,” she said, looking at Draco with all the seriousness a little girl could muster, “I would like a tuna sandwich and grape juice, please. Don’t forget the pickle on the side!” She turned to Hermione then, expectantly.
“Er,” Hermione muttered, glancing helplessly at a mirthful Draco. “I’ll have what she’s having, I suppose.”
Celeste nodded approvingly, before reverting back to her normal childish tendencies. She smiled at Hermione. “They’ve got the bestest tuna! Don’t worry!”
Draco nodded and went to order three tuna sandwiches, three grape juices, and two dill pickles at the counter.
“Who’s the pretty lady?” asked the kind-looking old woman behind the counter, when he neared.
“My newest nanny,” replied Draco, with a smile.
“Looks like a keeper,” the woman said, a mischievous grin forming on her face.
Draco caught this and gave her a warning look. “Don’t even think about any matchmaking attempts, Vivi.”
“But Draco, dear! You’ve been alone for so long! And you must know that Celeste needs a stable mother figure.”
Draco cut her a sharp look.
“All I’m trying to say is that that lady over there could be the one.”
Draco shook his head. “I don’t think so. We’ve got a history.”
Vivi shot him an inquisitive look.
“Long story.”
“Hun, you’ve got about five minutes before your order’s up. Give me the condensed version.”
Draco shook his head, resisting. But then Vivi, who had become like a mother figure to him, gave him a you-better-tell-me-or-else look and he felt like a child again and caved in.
“Fine. If you really must know, and I know you must, we met at Hogwarts. Hate at first sight, I guess you could say. I was sort of a brat...” Vivi raised an eyebrow, as if to question his use of the words ‘sort of,’ which Draco ignored. “But somewhere along the way—sometime after third year, maybe even later than that—the hate dissipated. We weren’t friends. Far from it. But we didn’t hate anymore. I—I even...”
A bell chimed, followed by a shouted “Order’s up!” interrupting Draco.
Vivi took the order and handed it over to Draco, who hastily grabbed it and walked back to his table, acting as if he narrowly escaped torture.
When he reached the table, Celeste was talking animatedly. But even so, she noticed that the food was there and immediately grabbed half of her sandwich before Draco had even set the tray of food down on the table.
“I guess someone’s hungry,” Hermione commented, wryly, as Celeste became enamored in her food and oblivious to the two adults with her.
Draco nodded, agreeing as he took a bite out of his own sandwich and Hermione did the same.
“So, Granger, mind if I ask what your occupation was before you took on the oh-so-wonderful job of being Celeste’s nanny?” asked Draco, a smirk on his face while still chewing his food.
“Not at all,” Hermione replied, after doing the proper thing and swallowing her food. “I was an accountant, actually.”
“That’s quite a difference in fields. And not exactly what I pictured.”
“Yes, well...I thought it was time for a bit of a change.”
Draco raised a disbelieving eyebrow.
“Really!”
“If you say so, Granger.”
“And anyway, what do you mean ‘not exactly what I pictured’?” Hermione felt slightly giddy at the idea that he had thought about—pictured her—her at all since their days at Hogwarts. “What did you picture me doing?”
Draco looked at her thoughtfully. “Believe it or not Granger; I imagined you would have worked for the Ministry. Possibly even in a high position.”
Hermione didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. Possibly?
“Right. Well, what about you? Always wanted to be president of your own company, did you?”
“Of course! Malfoys always lead.”
Hermione could believe that. Malfoy had always been the leader of his group at Hogwarts. He had the smarts and the charisma to do so. That was also probably why so many girls had fallen for her, herself included.
“So then what really happened, Granger?” Draco asked, cutting into her thoughts. “Why did you really leave your previous position? I’m sure it paid much better and was much more satisfying for you.”
Hermione felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment, and then she frowned. It was really any of his business, and she told him so. “You don’t know me, Malfoy!” she hissed at him. “Don’t even think you know me! You don’t know what satisfies me or not!”
Draco smirked at her, in a mischievous way. “I could learn, Granger. I’m a very fast learner,” he said in a tone clearly laced with sexual innuendo. Hermione couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but she suddenly felt the need to fan herself. Her cheeks were starting to get redder and...Was it hot in here or was it just her?
She tried to gain control of her features and school her expression into a composed one, before replying, quite primly, “That is a highly inappropriate way to talk, Mr. Malfoy. Especially in front of one as young as Celeste.”
Draco laughed, and said, “Nice try, Granger. Celeste isn’t even paying attention to us.”
And he was right. She was still very much enamored in her food. How long does it take a little girl to finish a tuna sandwich and a dill pickle? Hermione wondered.
He mock-leered at her, then. “Besides, I know you like it.”
Hermione laughed. She couldn’t help it. His expression was so absurd. After a few moments, he joined her, and the both of them laughing caught Celeste’s attention.
“Waff’s sho ‘unny?” she asked, through a mouthful of food.
“Your Daddy, darling.” Hermione answered, wiping away some tears. “He’s an absolute hoot.”
Celeste frowned at this, and then shook her head. “No, Her-my-oh-knee. Daddy’s not an owl! He’s busy-ness man.”
This caused Hermione to laugh harder, and led Draco to be the one to explain to Celeste that yes, Hermione knew that Daddy really was a ‘busy-ness man’ and that no, Daddy was not secretly an owl when he was not with her.
Celeste seemed to accept his explanation, just as Hermione let go of her final bouts of laughter.
They continued their lunch in that manner, by getting to know a little bit about each other, with some playful banter and Celeste interjecting curious questions and comments from time to time. They did not notice the man stationed across the street, trying to look inconspicuous, the camera in his hand zoomed in on them and snapping away.
TBC
P.S. Happy Holidays! Hope everyone has a Happy New Year! And hopefully there will be lots more updates this coming year and maybe even—gasp—a completion. Here’s to hoping...
Nanny Wanted!
By Neferteenie
Posted on: 12/29/2006
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