Nightmares

Nightmares

The rain was without beginning and without end. The night sky was covered with grey stormclouds, slowly drifting across the infinite expanse of space. Thunder rolled across the sky, and in a little boy's sleeping mind, monsters came to life.

The room morphed into a long, dark tunnel, reaching out in both directions, a never ending stretch of blackness.

A six-year-old Draco Malfoy burrowed himself in the downy blankets as the dream overpowered his mind. A house elf stepped inside the room to tend to the fire, trying not to disturb the sleeping boy.

A Peruvian Vipertooth flew out of the opening, its 'tiny' size of fifteen metres towering over the boy. Its mouth opened, revealing rows of pointed, razor sharp fangs, dripping with venom.

Draco screamed in his sleep, hiding his head under a feather pillow. His muscles tensed as he dreamed on.

The dragon swiftly changed into an Erkling, cackling madly in high-pitched tones. It beckoned to the boy, smiling and dancing on the spot. The little boy's blue-grey eyes peeped out cautiously, taking in the pointed face and comical, bright eyes.

Draco moved the pillow off his head, loosening his muscles. He sighed contentedly, and rolled over in his sleep.

The Erkling laughed again, its shrill giggles captivating the little boy. The Erkling skipped away, still beckoning with an arm, and the boy followed.

They ran together through green forests opening up to grassy plains. They skipped along the level ground, disturbing the intricate geometric footwork of the Mooncalves.

They swam hand-in-hand through underwater kingdoms, past singing Sirens and mottled, pale green Grindylows.

He laughed in his sleep, relaxed and content. The windowpanes shook with the tremors of almost silent thunder, rolling in the distant sky.

Thunder disturbed the calm waves. Merpeople fled into their homes as lightning struck the sea's floor. The little boy screamed as the Erkling whirled around, baring its teeth.

The boy turned to run, but the Erkling held him fast, gripping his silvery blond tresses.

Draco screamed again, his tiny hands fighting the bedclothes. He kicked the pillows off the bed, turning and tossing as he dreamed on. The house elf rose from his post uncertainly.

The Erkling grinned and laughed again. The little boy didn't find his laugh particularly entrancing now. The Erkling's eyes were bright with desire, and a red tongue stole out of its mouth to lick its lips.

Draco rolled over onto his side, bringing his knees up to his chest. His shoulders racked with silent sobs and the house elf drew closer.

Pointed teeth met soft, baby flesh. The tooth marks embedded themselves in flawless skin. Blood flowed from them freely, a contrast of dark red and white.

The boy focused on the cuts, his eyes horrified. The Erkling leered at him, glistening white teeth marred with streaks of red blood. His blood.

It took another bite, a large chunk of flesh. Blood poured out openly from the wound, a large gaping hole in the boy's leg.

The little boy screamed, and the Erkling did not wait any longer. With one large gulp, he devoured the boy whole.

Draco sat up quickly in bed, panting. His blue-grey eyes were wide with apprehension as he looked around the room. Silvery-blond hair dripped with sweat, fallingto into his eyes as he took in the familiar surroundings.

"Just a dream," he reassured himself. "There's no one there... it was just a dream."

The house elf crept up to the bed silently, wondering what Master Draco was muttering.

The velvety green curtains rustled in a silent wind. Thunder shook the sky and a sudden bolt of lightning illuminated the room.

It also illuminated the pointy faced, pointy-eared shadow of the house elf.

"DADDY!" Draco yelled, throwing off the bedclothes. He grabbed his Puffskein, Mr Bobo, out of its cushioned bed and ran towards the door.

He tugged it open frantically. The house elf watched curiously as Draco dashed outside into the gaping halls of Malfoy Manor.

Draco took a tiny step forward, hugging Mr Bobo tightly to his chest. Mr Bobo didn't seem to mind being strangled in this fashion and and hummed contentedly - albeit a sometimes choking, contented hum.

Draco crept along the hall, his eyes sending panicky looks at the sleeping portraits of his ancestors.

"What're you doing, boy?" A gruff voice asked, breaking the eerie silence.

Draco whirled around nervously, looking about him. Mr Bobo flicked his pink tongue towards Draco's nose, but Draco pushed it away impatiently.

"Up here, young Malfoy," the voice spoke again. "Talk to your great-great-great... to hell with the number of greats - great Uncle Mordicus."

Draco looked up at the lifesize portrait of his Great Uncle Mordicus. Great Uncle Mordicus, resplendant in riding gear stood next to a tall black stallion, looking down at Draco.

"And what might you be doing up at this hour of the night?"

Draco looked into eyes very similar to his own.

"You have my eyes, Uncle Mord-cus," Draco said, staring at the portrait.

Great Uncle Mordicus spluttered indignantly. "I have your eyes? Excuse me, young sir, but I think it must be the other way around!"

"No, Uncle Mord-cus. Daddy said you have my eyes."

"Daddy said that, did he? Well, go tell that confounded father of yours that I have no one's eyes - they have mine."

"Okay, Uncle Mord-cus," Draco agreed affably.

"Now what are you doing up so late?"

"I had a nightmare, Uncle Mord-cus." Draco's silvery hair fell into his eyes. "I think you have my hair, too, Uncle Mord-cus."

"Never mind that," Great Uncle Mordicus replied, waving a hand impatiently. "If you had a nightmare, why are you wandering the halls at night?"

"I wanted to tell Daddy."

"You wanted to tell Daddy! My dear young sir," the portrait boomed pompously, its words echoing around the wide hall, "a Malfoy does not run to 'Daddy' at unearthly hours of the night. Especially not with that yellow thing in his arms."

"It's Mr Bobo." Draco held the Puffskein out.

" 'Mr Bobo', is it?"

"Yes, Uncle Mord-cus."

"What is a confounded Mr Bobo doing here?"

"He's my pet, Uncle Mord-cus." Draco smiled, showing a set of even, pearly baby teeth. The portrait smiled, displaying yellowed, stained teeth in the process.

"Well, take that... Mr Bobo, and go straight back to your room," Great Uncle Mordicus replied, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Draco answered, squaring his shoulders. "I'm going to see Daddy."

And Great Uncle Mordicus watched two short legs march down the hall, Mr Bobo held firmly in two tiny hands.

Draco's determination soon wore off. He was soon tiptoeing cautiously around the corners, jumping at any little noise he heard.

It seemed an age before two wooden double doors came into sight. Draco ran eagerly towards them and flung them wide open.

He advanced towards the bed, trying not to look at the wrinkled Hand of Glory displayed on his father's bedside table.

"Daddy," he whispered urgently, poking the sleeping figure. "Daddy!"

Lucius Malfoy opened his eyes.

"Draco? What do you want?" He asked coldly, rubbing the arm that Draco poked. Draco put Mr Bobo down onto Lucius' bed.

"Daddy, I- " he began, petting Mr Bobo.

"I thought I told you to call me 'Father', Draco," Lucius reprimanded, slapping Draco's hand.

"Sorry, Father," Draco mumbled, withdrawing his hand quickly. He yawned suddenly, feeling tired. He had done a lot tonight, after all.

"Now," Lucius sighed. "What is it?"

"Da- Father, I had a nightmare..." Draco trailed off and sat at the foot of Lucius' bed. The green satin cover, embroidered with the family motto, 'Aurum potestas est' - Gold is power - was somehow soothing to touch.

"A... nightmare." Lucius looked at the tiny figure, seated at the foot of his bed. "You woke me up because you had a nightmare. Pray tell, what happened in this nightmare that so provoked you to disturb me?"

"I saw a dragon... I think it was a Peruvian Vipertooth, those really big dragons-" Draco began, stroking Mr Bobo's custard-yellow fur.

"A Vipertooth is the smallest type of dragon, Draco."

"It looked big!" Draco defended himself. "And it had poison dripping from its fangs..."

"Draco," Lucius sighed, "Vipertooth dragons have poison in their fangs, not dripping from their fangs."

"It was dripping." Draco scowled. He was never wrong. Daddy had it mixed up, not him. "And then it became an Erkling..."

"An Erkling."

"Yes, Father. And it was wearing funny clothes and its laugh was cool and-"

"And did you follow this Erkling?"

"Yes, Da- Father. It took me through forests and underwater and then..." Draco picked Mr Bobo up and hugged him tightly.

"He ate you," Lucius finished dryly.

"Oh, Daddy - I mean, Father, he took a huge great bite at first but then he must have gotten really really really hungry 'cause then he ate me whole!" Draco replied, his eyes round.

"And then you came running here, did you?"

"Well..." Draco tilted his head to one side, thinking. "At first I just stayed in bed because I knew there was no Erkling in the house but then there was lightning and I saw the Erkling's shadow! So I picked up Mr Bobo- "

"Mr Bobo? What the devil is that?" Lucius interrupted.

Draco laughed. "Uncle Mord-cus said that too."

"And who's Uncle ... Mordcus?"

"Great-great-great-to-hell-with-the-number-of-greats-Great-Uncle-Mord-cus. That's what he said. It's a long name, isn't it, Father?" Draco recited, counting the number of 'greats' on his fingers.

"Is that what he said?"

Draco nodded, sure that he was right. "And he said to tell you that you're a confounded ... no one has my eyes, they have his."

"A confounded?"

"I don't know what a confounded is, Father, but he told me to tell you."

Lucius closed his eyes. "I have no idea how we got to this topic, Draco, but right now I want to know who - or what Mr Bobo is."

"He's my pet. See?" Draco laid Mr Bobo on Lucius' lap. "My Puffskein. Mommy... Mother bought him for me in Diagon Alley." Mr Bobo promptly stuck his tongue out and fished for bogies in Lucius' nose.

Draco laughed. "That's how he says hello."

"Get out!" Lucius slapped the Puffskein. "Draco, you can't possibly keep this creature. Did you see what it just did?"

"Oh, it only does that when you're sleeping, Father. Really," Draco assured Lucius. "So you don't know a thing. He was only saying hello this time, but next time he'll do it when you're asleep."

"Is that so?"

Draco nodded again. "Yes, Father."

"Well, he can do that to some other little boy. A Puffskein - especially one named Mr Bobo - has no place in this family."

"But Father..." Draco argued, gathering Mr Bobo up in his arms.

"No buts. He's going tomorrow. You can have a nice Runespoor instead. It's a good companion for a Malfoy."

"But I love Mr Bobo, Father!"

"Loving, Draco," Lucius' cool blue eyes looked into Draco's teary ones, "is for fools. Maloys do not love."

"But..."

"Go to bed," Lucius dismissed him. "You're a Malfoy. To be a Malfoy is to be a cut above the rest. A nightmare should not scare a Malfoy. Go back to bed."

"Yes, Father," Draco murmured as his father rolled over, going back to sleep. He got off the bed and smoothed the satin bedspread carefully. He stood motionless by the bed, looking at his sleeping father. A lone tear slid down his face.

Mr Bobo purred, breaking Draco's train of thought. Draco moved away from the bed and left the room.

Outside in the vast halls of the manor, Draco squared his shoulders.

"Don't worry, Mr Bobo. I won't let them take you." Mr Bobo hummed happily in reply.

Portraits woke up to see Draco Malfoy's tiny figure marching resolutely down the halls.

Draco Malfoy wasn't afraid of anything.