Parenting Class Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: Let's see...if I did own Harry Potter it would no longer be Harry Potter...it would be Draco Malfoy and the Goblet of Fire, Draco Malfoy and the Order of the Phoenix and all of the other books.

Parenting Class

A Pause for Acceptance

Everyone sat for a moment in silence, the two teenagers relishing the tranquility of the room. "Do I have to go to bed now?" Draco whined, tugging on Hermione's robes. "I'm not tired," he yawned, eyes widening as he attempted to stifle the second one.

"It looks like you're quite ready for a good night's rest," Hermione observed, reaching down and picking up the child. "Let's go brush your teeth and then we'll read a story, okay? Draco? Draco?"

"Looks like Pansy wore him out," Harry chuckled, "maybe we should have her over here more often."

"I think not," Hermione bristled, starting for Draco's bedroom. "My cat is soaking wet thanks to that little girl! I admit, she is very sweet at times but we will not be having her here all the time!"

Harry settled himself down on the couch as Hermione tucked Draco into bed and then proceeded back into the common room, after making sure the boy's nightlight was on. "It looks like it's going to storm tonight," the girl commented, gazing out the large window.

Indeed it did. Large, black clouds were gathering in the sky, a ripple of yellow showing every few seconds. The trees bent over with the force of the winds, leaves and other objects racing across the castle grounds.

Harry joined Hermione at the window and together they watched as fat raindrops began to patter against the window till the drizzle turned into an amazing downpour. "It's the perfect time for telling ghost stories," he remarked.

"I don't like ghost stories," Hermione shivered, hugging her robe tight around her. A loud clap of thunder tore through the air just as all of the candles and the fireplace went out, a gigantic gust of wind having raced down the chimney.

"L-lumos," Hermione stuttered, her wand lighting up at the tip and casting a meager glow over her face, pale with fright. "I really don't like this, Harry," she murmured, relishing the warmth he gave off, a sudden chill seeming to come over the room.

"Told you it was time for ghost stories," Harry smirked. "Okay, here's a good one...do you want me to tell you?"

"Not particularly...but you're going to do it anyway so just go ahead."

"It was a dark, stormy night," Harry began his voice dropping in pitch, "much like this one. An old man sat in his chair by the fire, a dog by his feet while he puffed on his pipe. As he was almost asleep a knocking sounded on the front door." Harry knocked his hand three times on the windowsill, devilish grin on his face.

"Thinking it was a traveler caught in the rain the old man went to let them in. But when he got there, the doorway was empty. Forgetting the whole matter he went back to his chair and opened up the newspaper. Minutes later, the knocking sounded again." Once more Harry rapped his knuckles slowly.

"And once again, the old man went to the door only to find nothing. With a shrug he went back to his chair and started to pet his dog, who had come to sit by his side. Seconds later, three more knocks sounded. Ignoring them, believing it was but his imagination the man stayed where he was. Again they came, and still he sat."

"Faster and faster the pounding became until the dog was howling and the man was covering his ears. And then...it stopped!" By now Hermione was clutching the front of Harry's robes, brown eyes magnified with terror.

"And then slowly...ever so slowly...three more knocks sounded." Knock, knock, knock. Harry looked up startled. "It's my job to knock, Mione."

"I didn't knock," she answered shakily. Knock, knock, knock. Hermione screamed and Harry stepped in front of his friend protectively, hand clutching his own wand.

"Mr. Potter? Miss Granger? Are you in there? Answer the door!" demanded the stern voice of Professor McGonagall.

"It's only McGonagall," Harry breathed, quickly crossing the room and shoving the portrait open.

"About time," the transfiguration professor sniffed. "Couldn't you hear me knocking?"

"W-we could," Hermione exhaled, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. "But why didn't Leviculus just open for you?" she asked, McGonagall handing Harry a candle.

"All of the portraits went dead," the teacher snorted. "The storm outside took away their operating power...the worst storm Professor Dumbledore says to hit the castle in over fifty years!"

"So are you making sure we're all right?" Harry questioned.

"Yes, and I also require Miss Granger. As a prefect, it is your duty to come and help myself and the others revive the portraits by putting some of our own magic into them. And for the time being Potter, don't light the fireplace again...Professor Dumbledore is worried that flames might spread if the wind blows the right way. Miss Granger, follow me."

"But what about Draco?" Hermione cried, throwing a nervous look over her shoulder at the closed bedroom door. "I can't leave him here!"

"I'm sure Mr. Potter is more than capable of looking after Mr. Malfoy for a few hours." Hermione and Harry shared a look.

"Let's just hope he doesn't wake up," Hermione whispered, Harry nodding his agreement. With a sad glance at the closed door, Hermione followed McGonagall, Harry standing silently in the middle of the room.

Another loud burst of thunder made the floor beneath the teenager's feet visibly shake. "I have a feeling I am not going to like tonight," he muttered, making his way into his bedroom.

Changing into a pair of red pajama pants and a gold top (ever the true Gryffindor), Harry crawled beneath his covers, a grateful sigh escaping his lips. All he wanted to do was sleep...

With a jolt, the boy sat up. He probably should check on Draco...Hermione would. Groaning, Harry slid out of his warm resting spot and padded softly down the hall to Draco's room.

Pushing the door open, Harry was glad to see the boy curled up in his bed and he turned to go. Then taking a double glance back, he saw the child's tiny shoulders shaking and muffled crying barely distinguishable over the roar of the thunder.

"Draco?" Harry said tentatively, stepping into the room and approaching the Slytherin. In response, Draco curled up tighter into a ball and buried himself under the covers. "What's wrong?" Harry asked, gently as he possibly could.

It was then the Gryffindor realized the waterfall had gone out, another item that the storm had disrupted. The only light in the room was that of the lightning flashing through the windows and illuminating everything in intervals.

"I want Hermione!" Draco wailed, looking up at Harry with wide, silver eyes. He burst into a new round of sobs, growing louder as the thunder sounded.

"There, there, it's okay," Harry comforted, easing himself onto the edge of the bed till his hand came to rest on Draco's shoulder.

Draco whimpered and drew himself tighter into the mattress, Harry removing his hand. A sudden flashback to earlier that evening suddenly struck the child.

"They really do care about you, Draco, don't forget that."

"Even Harry?"

"Even Harry," Ginny said firmly. "They'll both do anything to make sure you're happy while you stay here. No one will ever do anything to hurt you, understand?"

With a soft cry, Draco flung himself into Harry's arms, the older boy's eyes widening in surprise. Cautiously, Harry wrapped his arms about Draco and rocked him slowly, feeling the boy tighten his grasp on his robes.

"I don't like the thunder," Draco whispered, burying his head against Harry's chest. "Or the dark...never the dark."

"It's all right," Harry murmured, placing his chin on top of the blond head. "I used to be scared of the thunder too...but it can't hurt you...just there to make a lot of noise."

"Don't leave me here," Draco sobbed, "I don't want to be alone!"

"I'm not going anywhere," Harry assured. "I'll stay right here until you fall asleep."

"But I don't want to fall asleep! I'll die!"

"Now why do you say that?"

"Because Voldemort will come and kill me when I close my eyes," Draco whimpered.

Harry almost recoiled in horror. Someone other then himself and Dumbledore saying the Dark Lord's name? "What do you mean, Draco?" he queried, shivers racing up his spine.

"Father says that if I'm bad, when I go to sleep he'll come and kill me," the child cried. "He says Voldemort only wants strong people to work for him...I'm not strong if I cry...and whenever it storms or I'm in the dark I cry...I don't mean too...I'm just scared."

"Well no Dark Lord is going to kill you with me here, understand? I won't let him hurt you."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Draco said softly, voice barely heard.

"For what?"

"I thought you would hurt me," he mumbled into Harry's shirt. "Ginny told me you cared about me...and I'm glad I listened to her."

Tears pricked at Harry's eyes and he blinked them away furiously. "And Ginny is absolutely correct...I care for you very much. I will never, ever, hurt you or make you feel scared, all right? And if I do, I give you permission to hit me. Do we have a deal?"

"But I don't want to hit you," Draco sniffled.

"It's just a precaution," Harry assured. "If it makes you feel better, you could instead tell Hermione and she'd hit me for you."

Draco chewed on his lower lip before giving a slow nod. Holding out his hand, Harry gave it a gentle shake. "How about we go to my room?" he suggested. "The window isn't as big there and you won't see as much of the storm."

The Slytherin murmured a soft yes and Harry scooped the child into his arms like he'd seen Hermione do many times. He now understood why his friend preferred to carry Draco rather then let the child walk...he had a warm, comfortable weight that made him feel good inside.

Harry climbed into his bed, Draco still in his arms, and placed the child beneath the covers. The candle McGonagall had given him sat on a small nightstand, the small glow providing a degree of comfort in the otherwise black room.

"I still don't want to go to sleep," Draco stubbornly said. "I want Hermione."

"She isn't here right now," Harry replied. "She'll be back later tonight though."

"Why? Where did she go?"

"She had to help with some things around the castle."

"Can I stay up till she comes back? Please?"

Harry sighed. "All right."

The child gave him a shy smile and Harry grinned back. "Can we read a story? I don't want to listen to the thunder." Draco produced a book from Harry's shelf and handed it to him. "I saw Hermione put this here earlier," he said, noticing Harry's raised eyebrow at finding a children's book in his room.

"The Imp and the Three Faeries," he read off the cover. "Are you ready?" Draco snuggled up closer in reply. "Once upon a time there was a family of three faeries...a mommy faerie, a daddy faerie and a child faerie."

"What were their names?" Draco interrupted.

"It doesn't say..." Draco snorted and then went back to listening. "One day they decided to go into the forest and pick some berries for their dinner that evening. While they were gone, a little imp crept up to their house and entered."

"Shouldn't the imp knock? It isn't polite to barge in."

"The imp isn't very nice... 'Oh My,' the imp said. 'Look at this yummy looking pumpkin juice! I must have some!' First, the imp picked up the largest glass and took a sip. 'Yuck!' he cried, spitting it out. 'It's too warm!' Picking up the middle sized glass he took a sip. 'Terrible! Too cold!' Picking up the smallest cup, the imp took a large sip. 'Perfect!'"

"He shouldn't do that," Draco objected, frowning at the pages. "Father and Mother wouldn't like it at all if someone we didn't know came in."

"It's a story, Draco," laughed Harry. "Let's just keep reading, shall we?" Draco nodded and leaned closer to the book, Harry's wand illuminating the pages. "'I need to sit down,' the imp decided. Entering the room next to the kitchen, the imp sat down in a gigantic arm chair. 'Too squishy,' the imp decided. Picking himself out of it, the imp sat down in the rocking chair. 'It moves too much,' he complained. Settling himself in the smallest chair the imp smiled. 'This one is great!'"

"I would have taken the rocking chair," Draco declared.

"The armchair was more to my liking," Harry argued. "But if that's what the imp wanted we'll leave it at that...The imp gave a loud yawn. 'I need to go lie down,' he decided, getting out of the chair and making his way upstairs. Three beds were lined up before him. Climbing into the first one the imp sank into the mattress. 'It's too big!' he squeaked. Making his way out of it, the imp climbed into the middle sized bed. 'It's too hard...my poor back,' he moaned. He then made his way over to the smallest bed. 'I like this one,' he said. Within moments the imp was fast asleep."

Harry waited for the comment Draco would come up with and was surprised when there was none. Looking down, he smiled at the boy, resting fast asleep against his shoulder. "And they all lived happily ever after," he finished, though he had no clue if that was the actual ending.

Setting the book on the nightstand, Harry placed his glasses on top of it and then eased Draco so his head lay on one of the pillows. Resting his own head on the other pillow Harry gave Draco a soft kiss on his forehead, the boy inching closer to Harry and curling up against him.

"I love you, Draco," Harry whispered, closing his own eyes. Amidst the darkness, the candle burned brightly, a source of hope and comfort for whenever it might be needed.

About two hours later Hermione walked into the common room, looking dead on her feet. "Stupid portraits," she grumbled, walking unsteadily for her bedroom. "Can't fix themselves..." She suddenly stopped. "I'd probably best go check on Draco," she groaned, turning around and walking to the child's door, wand held in her hand to light the way.

Lifting the wand above her head, Hermione cast the glow around the boy's room, beginning to panic slightly when she found the bed unoccupied. Retreating from the doorway, she hastily went to Harry's and entered, freezing in her tracks.

Harry was curled up in bed, one arm hanging off the side and the other wrapped around Draco. The child was snuggled up against her friend, a contented smile on his face. Though the girl was tired, she picked up Harry's camera from his shelf and snapped a photo, a smile on her face.

"I don't think I'm making it back to my room," Hermione yawned. Gently shoving Draco closer to Harry and Harry closer to the edge, Hermione climbed up into the bed next to Draco, seconds later sound asleep.

When Draco woke up the next morning he found himself sandwiched between the two Gryffindors and not able to move. The storm still raged outside, hail now pelting against the windows in addition to the rain and the constant booming of the thunder.

So the child was actually quite happy with this arrangement. He felt secure and safe between his two current guardians, Hermione's breath tickling his face and Harry holding him loosely in a protective embrace.

The candle still shined on the nightstand, though it was down to its last bit of wick. "Please don't go out," Draco prayed, watching the flame flicker. He knew he would still be scared of the dark, even with Hermione and Harry watching over him.

"Draco?" Hermione mumbled sleepily, eyes half open. "What's wrong?"

At that second the candle chose to go out and Draco gave a gasp of terror before he felt Hermione's arms wrap around him and pull him onto her lap as she sat up.

"He's scared of the dark," came Harry's soft voice followed by a 'lumos'. "And with the storm outside it's made everything quite black." It suddenly occurred to the legendary seeker, that Hermione was in his bed. "What are you doing here?" he asked suspiciously.

"I found you two here when I came back last night...I just stayed," Hermione said with a shrug. "Professor McGonagall told me that when we woke up to go down to the Great Hall. Dumbledore enchanted the ceiling so it looks sunny, very bright in there now."

"Then let's get going." Harry stretched and shooed Hermione out so he could get dressed, Hermione taking Draco to his room with the light of her wand. Minutes later they all gathered in the common room, Draco riding on Hermione's hip with his hands tightly gripping her robe. Two beacons of wand light was their guide to the Great Hall, both being used to full extent.

When the three arrived at the designated spot, Draco gave a tiny sigh of relief. It was as Hermione had said. The ceiling was a brilliant shade of yellow, effectively making the whole room bright. Students were walking about, talking in hushed voices and eating breakfast from a large buffet table set up in the front of the room.

"Hey you guys," Ginny greeted, making her way over to the trio. "Terrible weather isn't it?"

"Why do you sound so happy?" Harry grumbled, himself feeling rather grumpy.

"I love storms!" the Weasley girl laughed. "Besides, with the weather like this and all the lights keep going out, it's basically impossible to hold classes! Why don't you go get breakfast? You all look famished!"

Hermione glanced hesitantly at the food table where students were shoving each other and generally making a mess. "Could Draco stay with you while Harry and I go? I don't want him to get hit."

"Sure," Ginny agreed, taking Draco from Hermione. She brought the child over to a corner in the room and set him down, taking a seat on the floor beside him. But as soon as she did that, Draco scrambled to his feet and sat himself in her lap with a smile.

"You were right, Ginny," he murmured, "Harry is really nice."

"He is," she smiled.

"Is that why you like him?"

"I do not like him!" she exclaimed, blush rising up. "Harry is a friend, nothing more."

"That's what you said yesterday," the child observed. "Then who do you like?"

"No one," she said hotly, turning her face away from Draco.

"Why don't you like Harry?" Draco persisted, not willing to give up on the matter.

"I do like Harry!" she cried in exasperation, "just not in the way you want me too!"

"What was the first line you said?" the child questioned, smirk growing on his face.

"I LIKE HARRY!" she shouted, the entire hall growing silent. "Did I just yell that?" she whispered, face rapidly turning to match her hair. "Please tell me I did not just say that."

"You did...but if you don't like him then it shouldn't bother you, right?"

"Someone kill me," she muttered as people continued to stare.

"Do you really want to die?" Draco asked, quite alarmed.

"Yes."

"You don't mean that."

"I do."

"You don't."

"I do."

"You do."

"I don't."

"Gotcha!" Draco laughed happily. "Oh look! Harry and Hermione are coming over!"

Ginny groaned and covered her head. "What did I just do?"

"Ginny?" Harry asked, kneeling down next to the girl, currently squishing Draco as she rocked back and forth. "Ginny?"

"She likes you," Draco informed, face completely serious.

"As a friend," Ginny whispered, keeping her eyes down.

"Nuh uh," Draco countered. "You like, like him."

Harry looked on in confusion as the child and the Gryffindor began to bicker, 'do toos' and 'do nots' flying between the two.

"You shouldn't lie, Ginny," Draco scolded, shaking his finger at the girl. "It isn't polite."

"Fine! Does this answer your question?" the girl snarled, pushing Draco off of her lap. The boy's smirk grew wider as Ginny grabbed Harry by his tie and pulled him down so his face was level with hers.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed her lips against his, Draco laughing in glee.