Flora And Fawna [HARRY POTTER]

21

Rosie had been seated beside the young, dark haired mother she had noted earlier. Furthermore the baby, her son, was still crying. Rosie had more than enough patience dealing with such things after Dudley, so she was hardly bothered by the noise. That didn't seem to be the case for many of the others at the table who had begun trying to talk over the sound.

The young mother looked about ready to cry, though, so Rosie turned to her.

"I have a nephew a little older than your son. Dudley was a fussy baby when he was that small as well and I have a few tricks to settling him down. Would you like me to try and see if they work on your son too?" Rosie asked helpfully, putting her napkin down on her lap so that Kreacher could ladle some stew into her soup bowl.

The mother, Narcissa, nodded frantically almost tossing the baby in Rosie's direction. Thankfully Rosie was quick enough to catch him, and she settled back into her chair and cradled them close to her chest.

"I'm so terribly sorry to be a bother, I know his crying must be annoying. When my husband and I are home and he gets like this we generally hand him off to a house elf until he's settled down. I would have done that now only we left our house elf at home and Kreacher looks more likely to add Draco to the stew then comfort him." Narcissa rambled, her hands fluttering about nervously.

Rosie waved her excuses off with a smile, letting her pretty green eyes look down into Draco's blue ones. The boy clearly took after his father. He had the same eyes, though Rosie had seen several witches and wizards with the same shade, and a patch of silvery blonde hair on top of his little head.

He would be a heartbreaker when he was older, Rosie noted with a gentle grin.

"That's perfectly understandable and my sister was the same way with her son after he was just born. I think most mothers feel lost at first." Then Rosie spoke right to the baby. "And you are most certainly cute enough to get away with a little crying. Now what seems to be the problem?"

Draco whined for a couple seconds while Rosie pondered him. He was rather small, smaller than Dudley had ever been.

"Are you hungry, handsome boy?" Rosie asked seriously. "You will need to eat to grow into a big, strong man."

Rosie glanced at Narcissa out of the corner of her eye, beginning to softly sway in her seat so that she rocked Draco back and forth the way Dudley always liked. The baby quieted a little, which was definite improvement.

"No, I went into another room and tried to feed him right after he began to cry and he would have nothing to do with me." Narcissa said helplessly, still watching little Rosie to calm Narcissa's wailing child.

Rosie turned her gaze back to the red cheeked baby, her face thoughtful.

"Well if you aren't hungry, then maybe you're uncomfortable. Are you being grumpy because you're soggy and need a change?"

Rosie lifted the baby up a bit, and patted his bum. Through his cloth diaper and little trousers she could feels a little wetness. It seems she had found the root of the problem.

"That's it then, isn't it." Rosie grinned triumphantly. "You do need to be changed!"

Slowly, while Rosie had been rocking the child and talking to him, he had begun to quiet down until he was only grunting to show his displeasure at sitting in a wet diaper. And the adults around the table had taken notice.

Walburga had seated herself opposite her husband, who was at the end of the table. And because she had ensured Rosie was only a few seats away from her she had been able to watch the entire event.

Walburga had never pictured herself a maternal woman. She loved her children dearly but she didn't dote on them or spoil them. She wasn't raised that way so she didn't raise her sons like that. In fact, Walburga had never even imagined herself a grandmother until shortly after her youngest son's death when she saw Rosie walking down the street with her bouncing baby nephew on her hip.

Walburga had never known, would never know, the true extent of her son's feelings for the little mudblood girl. But some things that had come to light prior to Christmas and some things that he had told his mother before he died left her a clue. Which was why watching the object of her son's affections right then made something in her heart clench. She could picture it, that same girl a few years older with a similar baby in her arms. It would have Regulus's dark hair and it's mother's green eyes. It would be happy all the time because it had the two most attentive parents in the world.

And then Walburga realized that her little dream would never come true. Her son was dead, the girl who he loved was a rabbit in the fox's den, and the grandchild she imagined would never become a reality.

Walburga watched Rosie coo at the newest Malfoy for a few more moments before she gave Narcissa a kind smile and stood from the table. Rosie's emerald orbs met Walburga's ice ones.

"Would it be alright if I went to use the powder room?" Rosie asked respectfully, moving the baby Draco so that he sat on her hip, nestled into her shoulder. "It won't take but a moment."

Walburga waved the girl away, watching her scamper out of the dining room and then listening to her walk up the stairs.

Once she was gone Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Black's betrothed, turned to Walburga with a small grin twisting his thin lips.

"I don't know about her being a halfblood, but she was the only one tonight able to shut little Draco up so I'd say she's good enough to keep around."

And then the gathering of purebloods went back to eating their dinner. Walburga was left to ponder Rosie's newfound stamp of acceptance.