It's not all Mary Poppins
Harry Potter Fanfiction by Happily Never Afters
Disclaimer: I am not the creator, merely the storyteller. This piece of fiction is made purely for the enjoyment of writing it and for the readers who choose to read it. No money is to be made of it. All rights belong to their respective owners.
Warning: Reader discretion is advised. This piece of fiction will have homosexual pairings and follows cliché idea of Veela!Draco Malfoy and Mate!Harry Potter. Subject matter will be dark, so please keep this in mind. Homophobes have been warned; flames will be used for toasting marshmallows and pretzels.
Summary: After the war, Harry thought he could take on anything. Become the nanny to a five year old child? No problem. Deal with the divorced father who happens to be Draco Malfoy? Not so much.
Jane: "Wanted: a nanny for two adorable children."
Mr. Banks: "Adorable? Well, that's debatable, I must say."
Harry Potter sat in a stuffy formal black robe that he hadn't worn since graduation and he felt like the collar of his shirt was trying to suffocate him slowly. The balding Headmaster sat opposite him was dwarfed by his giant mahogany desk, the golden buttons of his expensive smoking jacket straining against his round stomach. A cheap plastic nameplate with peeling gold letters spelled the unfortunate name of Mr. Hitchcock. Harry could imagine all of the snickers and nicknames like 'Mr. Itchycock' it produced from the older students of the school.
It was two thirty on a Thursday afternoon and Harry was on his third and last interview of the day. Well, that was being a tad optimistic. He never made it past the headmasters secretary for his first interview (She looked like she had swallowed a lemon when her beady eyes settled on him and none-too-politely showed him the exit). For his second interview, he was treated to the novelty of being escorted off the school premises by two security enforcers who between warning him off were asking him for his autograph. ("Very sorry about this, Mr. Potter, sir. Orders from the headmaster, you see. Brilliant work you did for the Wizarding world, offing you-know-who. I read all about it when you gave that interview to The Quibbler.")
Having sat down on the seat inside the Headmasters office, Harry counted it as a victory despite Mr. Hitchcock's extreme reluctance to meet his eyes. He was staring determinedly on a spot on the wall just above Harry's shoulder. Harry fought the urge to turn around and see what was so fascinating.
"Look, Mr. Potter, do you mind if I be totally honest with you?"
"Yeah. I mean, yes. That's fine." The Headmaster could do the funky chicken dance in nothing but a coconut bra and a grass skirt if it meant that Harry would get the job.
"I am very impressed with your application. You graduated with honours a prestigious University and come with shining praise from your lecturers. I recognise Mr Oldfield."
Harry smiled the first time that day. "He was my form tutor."
"Had a fondness for Old Dragon cigars, if I remember correctly. Anyway, I can't find fault with your work experience or your extracurricular activities."
Harry felt his smile start to slip at the corners. "There's a but in there somewhere."
It was now the Headmaster's turn to shift uncomfortably in his chair. "This school offers places to children from a wide range of backgrounds and heritages. We pride ourselves in being able to offer a safe and friendly environment for them to learn as they grow."
Harry tried to look like he was listening, but his attention was slipping. He had already read the brochure before attending the interview. Besides, he had an inkling where this conversation was leading.
Mr Hitchcock ploughed on regardless. "The parents put their trust in our hands to maintain a certain level of professionalism. We are able to offer all of these services by the generous funds donated to us by upstanding Witches and Wizards in society. I'm afraid that if I hire you, this school would risk losing said funds from a very prominent Wizard, perhaps more." he waves his arm aroun, a gesture that Harry's sure is supposed summarise every problem with him in the single flick of a wrist. "You understand the dilemma."
"A prominent Wizard of society." Harry intoned flatly.
"Exactly." He nodded while simultaneously slide the application back across the top of the desk.
Harry only knew too well who the Headmaster meant. He was talking about Julian Bagshot, Harry's ex-lover. Julian was a Ministry official who was several years older than Harry. They had met when Harry was still studying for a degree in primary education and he had been incredibly charming and swept him off his feet.
However, it was only a matter of time when things came to a head. They had been dating for several months when Harry began to suspect Julian of being disingenuous with his true feelings. Julian had been wrapped up with the fame and prestige that came with the title of 'The-boy-who-lived's' lover. But when it didn't live up to the hype he had been expecting, he had become frustrated.
Breaking it off was the best thing that Harry had done for years. However, Julian didn't take kindly to being dumped. In a fit of immaturity and spite, he had made it his mission to make sure Harry could never get a job working in a Primary School.
Harry scrubbed a hand over his face in silent frustration, nearly knocking his wire-framed glasses off his nose. "But I'm qualified for the job. Like you said, I've got strong recommendations. If people pull their support from the school, then I will contact people who will be more than willing to take their place."
Harry had to cover up a wince. He hated drawing on his 'Boy-who-lived' fame, but when times call for desperate measures, Harry would do anything.
Mr Hitchcock sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter. I'm sure there's a position out there somewhere for you. Perhaps at a public school." It almost sounded like it hurt the man to say the last two words. Like just saying 'public school' is going to put him at risk of working in one.
Harry opened his mouth but closed it again. It was probably better not to tell him that Julian had been just as persuasive with public schools as he was in the hallowed halls of private education. That it was public schools that told him to try some of the more private places to begin with.
"Thank you for your time," Harry said and pushed his chair back. The words nearly stuck in his throat but he forced them past his lips anyway.
"Best of luck with your job search," The Headmaster said but doesn't offer his hand to shake. Not that Harry would have accepted it anyway. He resisted the urge to tell him to take his luck and shove it up his cowardly ass.
By the time he got home, he's moved past pissed and settled on something between resigned and just plain exhausted, not sure where the physical part of it ends and the mental begins. The whole day had been a complete disaster. He dropped his bag by the door and flopped over onto the couch. He knew there were things he should be doing. Applying for more jobs was right at the top of the list, but it was also right at the top of the list of things he doesn't want to deal with. So he went for the next best thing on the list.
An hour later found Harry apparating to The Leaky Cauldron. Despite their being far better pubs to frequent, Harry made it a point to make it his usual haunt. It held some fond memories back when he had attended Hogwarts and he had stayed here with his surrogate family, the Weasleys.
Harry settled himself at a table near the back of the bar and ordered a pitcher. If he had his way, it would be the first of many.
"You shouldn't frown like that, Harry," Wendy said, setting a frosty pitcher of beer and a mug on the table. "When your eyebrows knit together it makes you look like you have a unibrow. Plus, it'll give you wrinkles."
Wendy was well past sixty and had been a waitress at The Leaky Caouldron since it had first opened its door. She was practically an historical landmark, knew everybody and their business as well as she knew her own. Her hair, a steely gray that she refused to dye, was wrapped around the crown of her head in a thick, silver braid. Her eyes could be either kind or frighteningly hard, depending on the circumstances, but at the moment they were softened with compassion.
She'd taken a liking to Harry before she even knew who he was in Wizarding terms and his small group of friends, which meant a few free pitchers now and then and a great deal of smothering mothering the rest of the time.
"I'll try to keep that in mind, Wendy."
"What's wrong, honey? You look like you were duped with leprechaun gold," Wendy said, sliding her substantial rear into the seat next to him.
"I didn't get any of the jobs I was interviewed for today," Harry confessed. He should have known that Wendy wouldn't give up until she had all the sorry details. In that way, she was worse than Molly Weasley. Then again, Molly didn't usually serve him and Ron pitchers of beer and tell him that he needed to get laid more often.
" Why the hell not? You have a natural talent with the ankle biters and have a perfect CV. Who could beat that?" Wendy was nothing if not loyal, taking any setback Harry experienced as a personal affront.
"Julian Bagshot with his damn influence and his money, that's who." Harry smiled bitterly, pouring himself a beer. He downed half of it, mopping up the foam that dripped down his chin with the sleeve of his robe.
"These are napkins," Wendy said sarcastically, pulling a handful out of the dispenser and handing them to Harry. "Useful muggle invention. Try some. That bastard again? He hangs around you like a bad smell. Someone should take him down a peg or three."
Harry chuckled despite himself. "Thanks. But I doubt that will ever happen. He could charm the pants off the Minister himself."
"Seriously, that sounds like harassment to me. Isn't there anything you can do? Somebody you can complain to? File a grievance or something?"
"Sure. I could file a formal complaint with the Ministry board that deals with these kinds of things. Demand an investigation, call for a hearing. But he has too many friends in high-places. My name would be dragged through all the muck. I don't know about you, but I have had enough of that during the war. I don't really want to repeat the experience."
That was one of the reasons why he didn't chase a career with the Ministry as an Auror. The war had sapped everything out of him. The thought of dealing with the Great Clean-up made him shiver. He was done with the whole 'Boy-Who-Lived' role and now he wanted to just be Harry Potter, the twenty three year old wizard.
Maybe it was guilt that drove him to want to teach. He was made to kill and do horrible things in his past. Teaching gave him the excuse to deal with people who haven't been affected by the War and maybe he could scribble out some of his sins.
"That sucks," Wendy said, drawing Harry out of his reverie. "So what are you going to do now?"
That was the question, wasn't it? "I really don't know. I have exhausted all the known avenues of primary education. I suppose I could try for a teacher at Hogwarts, but…" he shrugged hopelessly. Hogwarts felt like a mausoleum dedicated to Albus Dumbledore. If he went back there, it would mean wallowing in the past. Something Ron and his new wife Hermione were determined to never happen.
"Have you thought about trying for a position as a child nanny?" Wendy suggested.
Harry nearly chocked on his gulp of beer. Coughing, he stared at her with bewilderment. "You mean like Mary Poppins?"
Wendy gave him a strange look. "Mary who?"
He waved his hand. "Never mind. A nanny is a woman's job," he said, wrinkling his nose.
Wendy sighed in exasperation and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Of course it isn't. A friend of mine was a male nanny back in the day," Wendy said as she slid out of the chair. "And he was earning enough galleons to afford two holidays a year and a seasons England ticket for Quidditch." And with that little bombshell, she left to tend to the bar.
Harry stared after her, his mouth unattractively agape. Not even an Auror could afford all of that.
"Huh." He said thoughtfully and took another swig of his beer.
"I think that's an excellent idea, Harry."
Harry was back at 12 Grimmauld Place and using the floo to talk to Hermione and Ron about the nanny idea. Whilst Hermione was delighted at the idea of Harry as a nanny, Ron had guffawed at the idea, and then proceeded to laugh his arse off.
"I really don't see what's so funny, Ron," Hermione admonished, staring at him with a baleful glare. "The Wiazarding world is crying out for nannies. Harry would be brilliant at it."
Ron snorted a couple more times before he could string a whole sentence together. "Sorry, mate," he grinned apologetically. "It's not that I don't think you can't do it. You have a way with little Delilah that not even Fleur or Bill have. It's just all I can picture is you as some housewife in a pink apron scolding the kiddies with a rolling pin."
Harry couldn't keep a straight face when he thought about it too, but he explained what Wendy had told him and Ron looked a lot more impressed. "England tickets, eh? Think you could swing some my way-oof!"
Hermione had surreptitiously stuck her bony elbow into Ron's ribcage. "That isn't what's important. What's important is Harry getting job satisfaction. Right Harry?"
Harry looked over Hermione's head and caught the twinkling eyes of Ron. "Right, Hermione. Job satisfaction. Of course."
A week later found Harry with his legs kicked up on the coffee table watching Star Trek: The Next Generation on his muggle television and eating cereal straight from the box. All around him was a whole newsagents worth of newspapers ranging from The Daily Prophet and Magical Witch Weekly.
Looking through the Nanny vacancies, Harry was beginning to despair. Not one of them looked right for him.
Family seeking a Monday, Thursday and either Tuesday orWednesday sole charge Nanny to care for a eight year old vampire. Must not be squeamish and experienced with extreme teething. Garlic is forbidden. Hours: 8:30am - 6pm.
Easygoing family seeks pleasant, enthusiastic, outgoing au pair, live out or live in. We need someone to start by the end of July, preferably before, to care for our two
youngest children aged 2 and 4 and take them to the local nursery and playgroup, entertain them, paint and bake with them.
…Yeah, baking wasn't really his forte. In fact, cooking was pretty much a no go area all together.
About to give up and ask Kreacher if he could make him a cheese toasty when an ad catches his eye.
Fed Up With "Traditional" Nanny Care and domestic help (LIVE-IN)live-in assistant to help me reorganize my life.
Busy, disorganized but well intentioned divorced, single father with full custody of five year old daughter in desperate need of help keeping our lives on track.
Successful artdealer with one foot in the corporate world. Can't do both with a five year old tucked under my arm. I'm looking for a
Traditional agencies have been a disaster of epic proportions. Looking for someone to foster my kid's creative spirit (she's got lots of that… as well as independence, curiosity, determination, and energy… really, a lot of that), manage our daily routines, housekeeping, help with homework, organizing special outings, errands, reminding me what day it is, chaperoning school trips, whatever needs to be done… Exorbitant salary and additional living expenses covered for the right candidate (yes, you'll have to pass a full background check. I'm disorganized, not an idiot).
I know. I'd be better looking for a housewife, but I tried marriage once and won't be trying that again.
Private room, shared bath, and full run of the kitchen. Work hours vary (see "horribly irregular schedule") but Sundays, every other Saturday and nights after 7:30 are yours to do as you please… most of the time. Compensation will reflect any time that's not true.
"Huh," Harry said to himself and reread the ad. It took him fifteen minutes to change his resume and whip off a letter of interest, leaving out the part where he's desperate for income and would even consider lap dancing and sent Hedwig to the address attatched.
A day later, Hedwig returns with an expensive looking letter and envelope with an answer.
Dear Mr. Potter,
After pursuing your resume, I would like to set up an interview with you to meet you in person and for you to meet my daughter (the final and most grilling test of all). Would Saturday at two pm suit you?
I expect a response as soon as possible.
Harry couldn't help but sag in relief. This had been the most promising of interviews since he had graduated with his degree. Julian would never have considered Harry would have applied for a nanny. The fact that he had seen his resume and not balked at his name was very promising indeed.
Scribbling a quick (and decidedly not desperate) 'yes, thank you', he sent it off.
Silence accept for the scratching of a quill over expensive parchment.
Blaise Zabini sighed in exasperation as he watched his school friend and business partner bury himself in a mountain of paperwork and not bothering to pay attention to his guests (even if said guest had turned up unannounced and unwelcome). "For the love of Salazer, Draco, would you pull yourself from your work and read your damn mail." His voice bounced off of Draco's expensively furnished office walls.
It got the desired effect. Draco's attention was pulled from his work and he levelled a Malfoy Glare in his direction. "I don't know if you have noticed, Blaise, but I have to get through all of this before the meeting tomorrow and I don't really want to stay up into the early hours of the morning to finish it."
Blaise stretched out in the seat in front of Draco's desk and pointed at the ornate floor-to-ceiling windows where a snowy owl was pecking away at the glass. "You want me to get that or do you want the owl to peck its way through the window?"
Draco looked at the window and then shrugged, already turning back to his work. "I'm busy."
Blaise rolled his eyes and with a huff of annoyance, he stood up and opened the window for the owl. It soared in and landed on the back of the seat that he had just vacated, holding out its leg obediently. There was a letter attached to it.
Taking the letter, he watched the owl leave through the same window and opened it. Eyes flickering over the contents, Blaise brandished the letter at Draco. "Someone answered your au pair add…hey, they come highly recommended too."
Draco gave a grunt and shuffled his papers. "I trust your judgment. If they're any good then set up an interview."
"Alright then." He sat back down and read through the resume more carefully. It was only when his eyes landed on the name Harry Potter that he froze.
His Slytherin side kicked in and couldn't help but grin. "I'll set up an interview for Saturday. Sound good to you?"
"You know my work schedule." Draco replied absentmindedly.
And that, apparently, was that.
Feed(my muses)back please!