-Thank you kindly MirandNack for betaing.-

"...and so the Guardians conquered the chaos that Pitch Black had spread across the world, driving him back into the dark from whence he came. Though they restored the natural order to the magical world, ridding the nightmares that plagued the children near and far will always be an ongoing battle. They could never achieve this, however, without the guidance from the Man in the Moon appointing a new Guardian for help; Jack Frost. The end."

Narcissa Malfoy closed the book as she quietly finished speaking; looking down at the sleepy-eyed Draco Malfoy snuggled up close beside her under the duvet. The little boy rubbed at his eyes, trying to rid the tiredness from them but the yawn that followed betrayed his attempt to show he was not wishing to sleep.

It was nearing midnight and her son had Apparated into the room with Dot, the house elf, with a story book in hand and a tear stained face. The poor child had another nightmare and, despite Dot's best efforts, Draco demanded he be with his mother. She lightly hugged Draco to her with one arm, leaning down to kiss his forehead before slipping out from underneath the bedding and stepping into her slippers. She attempted to coax her child to follow suit with a light tug of his arm. "Come now, little Dragon. Time to go back to bed."

Draco pulled away from his mother's gentle grasp with almost too much force, nearly falling backward and into his father who slept soundly on his side close by. He laid his head with purpose on her pillow while clutching the covers tightly below his chin. "But... I don't want to be alone," he half whispered, sticking out his bottom lip for good measure as he looked up at Narcissa with wide, saddened grey eyes. "Can I stay with you? Please?"

The witch smiled, feeling her heart melt at her son's plea. She resumed her position under the covers and cuddled close to Draco. "Alright, but just for tonight," Narcissa whispered and as if on cue, Lucius muttered incoherently in his sleep as if in protest. "You know your father wants you to stop this behavior."

"I know," he whispered, disheartened.

She grabbed her wand that was wedged between the ornate decorative headboard and, with a flick, the dim light emitting from it dispersed and she laid it on the nightstand on top of the story book.

"Goodnight, love."

"Night, Mother." The two settled in and the room grew quiet with steady calm breathing of the small family.

"Mum?" A small voice broke the silence several minutes later.

Narcissa stirred from the edge of sleep, rolling her head on the pillow to face Draco. "Yes, dear?"

"Where do we get our magic from?"

"Our magic?" she repeated, sleepiness impairing her understanding. Thinking he may be sleep talking, she combed her fingers through fine, blond hair, hoping this would put the boy back to sleep.

"Yeah..."

"I'll tell you in the morning."

Draco was quiet for a few moments before he lightly nudged his mother, rewording his question in hopes to receive a more desired response. "Where does our magic come from?"

"Honey, you had story time already. I will tell you in the morning. Now please, go to sleep."

"But I'm not tired."

Narcissa let out a defeated sigh and went to adjust the pillow, propping herself up against it to not be further teased with slumber. Draco sat up eagerly as well, smiling despite himself of his second small victory this night. Grabbing her wand, she cast a Muffliato to not disturb Lucius and looked to her son fondly while gathering her thoughts.

"Where does magic come from? A very good question coming from my smart little boy," she smiled, cupping her son's smiling face.

"Your magic, as well as mine and your father's, comes from two very old respectable families who strive to keep the line of magic pure. Our blood is what keeps magic strong, stable, and superior. Unfortunately, there are people out there who squander their magic, taint it with filth and dilute it because they do not care -"

"That's why mudbloods and squibs exist," Draco threw in, catching Narcissa slightly off guard. Her sight had adjusted to the dark, able to see the minor annoyance etched on the blond's face.

"That's correct," she responded slowly, somewhat surprised to hear her son aware of such filth walking the earth so early in his youth.

Draco barely turned six the week before and yet he seemed to know a bit about blood purity already, she wondered just how much Lucius had told him. It was custom to teach about such things to pure-blood children, yes, but not until they were aged seven at least, when comprehension to crucial information was achievable and not as frightening to absorb. This was when tutors were hired to prep for school and to help teach control of their magic as well, making teaching it all the more easier.

Draco attempted to stifle a yawn with the duvet, shaking his head a second later. Shifting around to find a new comfortable position, he replied. "I know about all that stuff already."

"That is hardly all of it," the witch muttered, not thinking of her somewhat stern tone while still being lost in thought.

"Well, I know some..." the boy sighed out dejectedly, taking his mother's comment as her scolding him. Narcissa pulled herself back to the present, patting his shoulder comfortingly.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I did not mean to sound so harsh. You just startled me with your knowledge of it already." She caught a small smile melting the frown, misunderstanding completely forgotten from the boy's mind.

"You tell that story better, though. Don't tell Father I said that." Draco put a finger to his lips, lifting up his mother's arm to have her mimic him. "Shh."

Narcissa smiled at Draco's compliment, she pressed her finger to her lips to indicate she wouldn't tell. She was now left confused; if he had heard the talk of blood purity once before, why did he ask about it now? "What did you want to know with your question then, Sweetheart?"

"I wondered where did magic orig-orgi..." -a quiet growl of frustration followed- "Begin? Like, who had magic first?" At this point Draco was practically bouncing around in the space between his parents, excited to have been able to elaborate on what he was determined to know. Narcissa pulled him to her to cease his jostling of the bed, speaking after ensuring the movement hadn't woken her husband.

"Where did magic originate?" She elongated each syllable of the complex word slowly for Draco to process, unable to resist the burst of pride in her heart for her boy's attempt at using such formal verbiage. Draco repeated it under his breath a couple times in order to memorize it.

"Well," Narcissa trailed off, wondering what she should say. Never recalling asking such a question as a girl herself, nor heard any stories about it before, so there was little to go off of to satisfy a curious mind. Why did her little Dragon have to ask such brilliant questions?

The full moon broke the clouds in that moment, shining its crystal light through the large windows of the master bedroom. Its rays stretched across the grand room, illuminating Narcissa's soft features, further gracing the witch's beauty. Her gaze drifted to the white splotchy orb lazily drifting across the night sky, it mysteriously stared back. Captivated by its inviting appearance, Narcissa watched as the moon seemed to answer an unasked question. A ray of light seemed to move on its own accord, blue eyes followed its path. It lit up the story book and wand beside her and an idea came to mind, a slight creative touch was all that was needed.

Draco put a small hand over his mother's arm, lifting his head from the crook of her neck while gently nudging her arm in order to wake her had she fallen asleep. "Mum?"

Narcissa looked back at the hazy moon and inclined her head slightly in silent thanks.

"Mother?"

Her arm curled around the boys' waist in response. "I'm awake, Draco," she assured softly, "I haven't forgotten your question."

Taking a deep breath, she gathered her thoughts for a story she had strung together seconds before. She was happy that her son was being so patient. "Long before time mattered, no magic seemed to exist on Earth -"

"That sucks," Draco interrupted, scowling at the mere idea.

"Language, Draco," Narcissa hissed, "Interrupt again and I won't tell you the story."

"Sorry."

"Long before time mattered, no magic seemed to exist on Earth. Many believed the gods and goddess - once called guardians - were the only beings who harnessed magic, and only those worthy were granted this gift from them and they alone. This never deterred a small village of only three-hundred and thirty-nine men, woman, and children. These commoners found ways to actually practice what they believed. Some learned that Gaia herself lived in the very soil and roots, giving everything its life. With patience and practice, they realized that certain ingredients combined together provided cures and remedies, others could poison and maim. Amazed by the results, the practitioners felt that they had learned how to harness Gaia's power and that they'd been blessed by the goddess herself.

"With a new way to create helpful things that could cure the sick, enhance crop production, and even help build stronger homes. The lives of many were vastly improved from this discovery. Soon the practitioners started calling themselves The Gifted, and they would band together to perform special rituals during certain seasons to thank Gaia for giving them their special skills, thinking that repayment was essential in order to keep their gift. As time went on, they broadened their practice by experimenting with other methods, but with little success. Blood sacrifices became popular as it could provide some protection to a household. Though some grew wary of where the source of magic came from, thinking it was linked it to the god of the underworld and felt it was unnatural so it was practiced cautiously."

Feeling parched, Narcissa reached for the glass of water on her nightstand, taking a modest sip from it before placing it back where it was. Draco took this opportunity to ask the questions that bubbled on the tip of his tongue. "So, bad magic was discovered by the same people who also discovered the good?"

His mother nodded lightly, clearing her throat subtly as she did so. "Indeed, but back then they didn't identify them as such. Raiders knew nothing about the magic practitioners at first. They would take from them often; livestock, crops, clothes, leaving hardly anything to survive off of. Calling it payment for letting them live on the land. The Gifted started poisoning the items the others took to stop them from coming. Blood sacrifices protected their valuables and livestock from sickness and deterioration from the toxins used."

"Wow," the boy said with tired amazement. "But they couldn't actually do magic like we can, could they?"

Narcissa smiled, poking the tip of his nose with her finger. "No, not yet."

"I can't wait till you get to that part," Draco stated excitingly.

"The commoners from different areas started to notice the strangeness coming from The Gifted and their village, becoming jealous of their superiority to the rest because their practice and beliefs showed results others could never achieve. Some were awed and worshiped The Gifted, others feared them. It wasn't long before the practitioners became threatened by those who felt inferior.

"The haters drove The Gifted from their homes; the ones who refused to leave were tortured and burned alive in their very homes. They were helpless, but their faith in practicing magic and believing the guardians would protect them never ceased. They prayed for some kind of defense against the commoners who held them in contempt. Terrible storms started to occur in enemy territory; winds would rip roots of crops from soil, rain would drown villages in seconds. Yet none of this helped, and the turmoil continued against the practitioners. For months the cries and pleas of The Gifted seemed to fall on deaf ears. Becoming more and more defenseless against their relentless enemies, they felt abandoned by nature, by their guardians."

Draco let out a gasp, cupping his hands over his ears he buried his face in the wad of blanket he was clutching to seconds before. "I don't want to hear anymore, it's too sad," he murmured through the fabric.

Narcissa leaned into Draco, giving him a warm hug while her hand lightly rubbed his arm in comfort. "It'll be alright, sweetie. I promise. Do you want me to skip ahead a little?"

He nodded his head, reluctantly removing his hands to rest back on the blanket. He cuddled closer to his mother, quietly waiting for her to continue.

"I'm sorry that part scared you," she reassured with a kiss to the top of his head.

"One night, The Gifted noticed an unusual thing in the night sky. The moon showed its entire face a second time in one season, yet something was different about it; its color seemed to take on a blue tinge. They immediately named it caeruleus luna - blue moon. It was suiting considering they had named the other moons of seasons already; they didn't want to exclude it, strangeness aside. This moon was not like any others, for it shone very bright and its rays seemed to stretch out like a hand causing the soil to glow, revealing a pathway. It was wishing to lead them somewhere.

"The Gifted were overjoyed yet desperate to pursue anything that appeared to be a sign of the guardians, men and women followed the lit up route through a thick forest. A small circular clearing was found at the forest's heart, illuminated by the full moon that looked directly down upon it. Moonflowers and morning glories bloomed among tall grass, these flowers alone brought hope to The Gifted almost instantly."

"It sounds like…" - A yawn interrupted. - "...somebody hid it." Draco commented sleepily. "Can I have some of your water, please?"

Narcissa handed him her glass. "The moon lead them for a purpose, what that was, the practitioners did not know. They started to pray to the moon, to the earth, to whatever guardian would listen in that moment." She placed the now empty glass on the nightstands, brushing her hand across her own wand subconsciously.

"While The Gifted chanted, they were unaware their homes were being raided and burned, but the moon knew. It bathed each person in a beam of light while the rest of the clearing went dark, the flowers glowed, the stars twinkled, and yet they still prayed. Unbeknownst of what was happening, what the moon was offering them. After several long minutes of silence, The Gifted felt strange, as if several powerful but harmless sparks erupted inside their very souls. This startled them, one stood so abruptly she nearly lost her balance. Throwing a hand out in front of her to catch her fall, a flash of blue light shot from her fingertips, stopping her fall entirely. Confused and unsure of what caused it, everyone decided to return home with no further question. Each attempted to memorize the path as they departed to return to the clearing later, finding it the perfect place for rituals.

"Upon seeing everything aflame, The Gifted were outraged and dashed to their homes to salvage what they could. Yet the strangeness happened yet again as they threw open burning doors, they were no longer on fire but instead saturated with water. This kept happening when they waved their arms and flicked their hands at the flames, water was coming from themselves!"

"Like Aguamenti?"

"Exactly like it, dear. Very good."

"So they were able to save their houses."

"Yes, each one saved their homes, families, and belongings. They grew very exhausted and famished afterword, the magic taking a toll on them for exerting so much of it. They slept for days afterward, when rested they ate and drank greedily. Once fully recovered, they gathered together to bring reason to how they all did it and why. Concluding after several days it was the strange moon, the blue moon, which answered their prayers and gifted them the magic, embedding it to their very being.

"They called it Soul Magic, because it came from within. Elated with the new knowledge of their extensive special abilities, they sought out the clearing to perform a ritual in gratitude for everything to their savior. They searched and searched and never found the clearing, so they instead performed it on the forest outskirts. Some say the moon actually smiled in return because the crescent moon was tilted on its side, and two bright stars appeared to be eyes."

Draco let out what sounded like "wicked" in a very hushed whisper. Narcissa could see his eyes were closed and his breathing seemed to slow as he slipped into slumber. She adjusted her pillow and gently moved into a laying position. Draco shifted to use her shoulder as his pillow, and she was okay with this.

"Soon they became proficient in their skills they now call magic, learning that they could set things aflame as well as extinguish it, their potions were more potent and actual barriers could be made from nothing. They discovered many things they could do, and they were no longer attacked for their practice because they could defend themselves tenfold. They learned how to fashion special items that helped channel their power: Scepters, staffs, stone necklaces, and eventually wands. They married within their village and realized their children also bore these gifted skills. The Gifted were feared by commoners - muggles, who developed a new name to call them and their practice. Witches for female practitioners, warlocks or wizards for males; witchcraft is what they practiced.

"The Gifted slowly adopted the names to help hide themselves from the muggles. Since they depicted them as wretched, ugly people, it became easy to get by when it seemed they were discussing stories or sightings of one instead of speaking about themselves. Though they never had a need to be afraid of commoners ever again due to their newfound magical abilities, some thought it best to simply stay away from them out of convenience while others didn't, thinking the idea was petty.

"To this day we are still feared for our special gift by muggles, as they should be." Narcissa looked down at her son who was now asleep at her side. She lightly brushed the fringe from his eyes, admiring his sleeping face while mentally noting she should have them trimmed soon. Curling herself protectively around him, she closed her eyes while whispering. "That's where magic came from, Draco: The Man on the Moon."

Author's Note: In honor of finding out I am to be an aunt again in June/July to twins, I wanted to write a little something for them. Even though they haven't arrived just yet, I eagerly look forward to meeting them and hope they will love Harry Potter as much as I do (my other niece and nephew aren't very interested, sadly). This was also partially inspired by Rise of the Guardians, a brilliant movie and probably an even better children's book.

Pitch Black is (c) DreamWorks Rise of the Guardians, and the author of the books, William Joyce.