A Child's Consoling Words

An electrical current ran through the unconscious body, a jolt of fear mixed with anger jerked the man out of his alarming dream, his body trembling with the aftershock of the horrendous things he had just witnessed. His once clenched eyelids were now wide open, his stormy gray eyes watching the ceiling through a curtain of white blur. He gulped thickly, his fists now clenching the silken sheets that lined his king sized bed, his knuckled now turning white.

He could feel his heart pounding through his ribcage, beginning to make the bones ache and his heart to feel over worked. The man licked his dry lips quickly, taking a few deep breathes. In and out, and in and out. He let his eyelids droop down once more, now trying to calm himself down.

That was one of the worst. He thought to himself as he recalled what he had dreamt of during his three hour long slumber, Voldemort. His face turned sour as he felt the Death Eaters tattoo on his forearm begin to hurt. It was years after the Battle of Hogwarts and these nightmare's still plagued what should have been restful nights. He let his eyes re-open, the white blur now vanished from his vision. He let his head turn to view the empty side of the bed.

Right. He thought to himself sourly. She wont be back for three more days. Usually his wife Astoria would have awoken when her husband had a terrible nightmare - she was always there, not matter how late in the night or early in the morning it may be, she always consoled him. But now she wasn't there to console him (though he would never admit to needing it), meaning this night he would be left to his own accord, which never worked. He continued staring at the empty side of the bed, knowing fully well he would not go back to sleep this night.

A beam of yellow line shone through the Malfoy's master bedroom, landing right in between the man's eyes. His brows furrowed and his eyes followed where the source of the light came from. "Daddy?" A soft voice came once the man's eyes landed upon a small figure that stood in the doorway.

Draco Malfoy sat up pin straight and attempted to look like he wasn't in complete despair. "Scorpius? What are you doing up so late?" He questioned the young boy with a raised, tired brow. Shouldn't he be sleeping? What time is it?

"Daddy, you woke me up." The boy pointed his little index finger towards his father accusingly, his other hand clutching his small stuffed animal which was a plain brown bear. The blond boy strode over to his fathers bed and stared at him for a moment. "You yelled."

Draco's left forearm continued to burn. "Yes, Scorpius. I had a bad dream is all." He told his six year old son, trying to hurry up this conversation so he could get him back to bed. He watched as little Scorpius cocked his head as he heard his father telling him about his bad dream.

Scorpius thought for a moment, his little brows meeting in the middle as he tried to think of something to say, clutching his little teddy closer to his body in the process. "Do you remember what you tell me when I have a bad dream, daddy?" The boy glanced up to meet Draco's gaze, awaiting a response from him.

"I do, but- You always tell me that it was just a dream, and that it isn't real, and that nothing can hurt me!" A small smile grew on the little boys lips, a genuine smile directed at his papa. Scorpius then brought it upon himself to clamber up onto the large bed beside his father. "And sometimes you let me sleep with you and mama." He clenched the duvet with his little hands and gently pulled it up, enough to reach up to his chin. "And mama isn't here, so I'm going to sleep here."

Draco was really left speechless. Was he just consoled by his six year old son? When it really should have been the other way around? He watched with furrowed brows as little Scorp snaked his arm around his teddy and looked up at Draco. That was the first time he really ever saw Astoria in Scorpius. Normally little Scorpius was a cheeky little thing, a cheeky, stubborn, demanding little guy. And now Draco was surprised to see this side from his son. No - he was happy to see his son had inherited traits that didn't come down from the Malfoy line.

Draco was pulled from his thoughts when the boy spoke once more. "I love you daddy." He stated with a tiny little smile still on his face, then before Draco knew it, he had fallen asleep soundly, all cuddled up in the thick duvets.

Draco Malfoy blinked for a moment. He was right and he knew it. Voldemort was dead and he couldn't threaten anyone anymore, so what was the need to worry over such useless ideas? Scorpius never had to go through the terrors of living in the same home as Voldemort, and Draco wished that he would never have to experience that - it was raining outside, the soft pitter patter against the window of his master bedroom hummed lightly, quite soothing - but Draco experienced such terrors in his life, and lived to tell the horrifying tales about them, and that's why he awoke almost every night, fearing for his life, fearing for his families life. Scorpius was right though - Voldemort couldn't hurt him anymore like he used too.

Perhaps this was a life lesson for Draco, (though Draco was quite skeptical to call it a life lesson, coming from a six year old that is). He'd have to be a man now - and show his son that there was nothing to be afraid of anymore. He laid back down onto his mattress and stared up at the ceiling in disbelief that his son was able to calm him down in just a few simple words.

And for the first time after a terrible night, Draco's eyelids felt like lead, beginning to droop down and meet the bottom lids. And eventually they did, bringing the tired man into his newfound cheery dreams.