AN: Although the story itself isn't very birthday-y, this is a birthday fic present for Swoone, from the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges Forum. Happy Birthday. :D
Where the Nargles Are
He loved watching her read to the children.
He loved hearing her soft voice croon out lullabies and stories, tell them tales and sing them songs.
He didn't like to admit it, but he felt comforted when he heard her. He felt happy.
He would wait until bedtime. Seven o' clock, to be precise.
Then he would sit outside the children's bedroom, his ear pressed against the door, his heart pounding as he listened to her tuck in his babies.
"Come along, Scorpius, time for stories," he heard her say. "Now now, Lorcan, Lysander. Stop that fussing. Don't you want to hear about the nargles? I promised you I'd tell you. They don't like it when you don't listen..."
He smiled, thinking about his children's expressions as they curled up next to their mother's warm body.
Little Scorpius who still sucked his thumb despite being almost six. The tiny twins, only three years old.
He settled down, closer to the door, wanting to hear the story, wanting to hear his wife's voice.
Luna was in her element. She had an audience who listened to her tales, who believed her every word.
"Once, there were three children," she began.
Draco grinned to himself. This was how his wife's stories always began.
"Do you know what they were called?" he heard her ask, and he found himself whispering along with his children's responses. "Scorpius, Lorcan and Lysander."
He heard a child like giggle, and he guessed that it belonged to one of the twins.
He pulled himself up closer against the door, straining for a touch of the love that emanated from Luna.
"One day, the three children-"
"Scorpius and Lorcan and Lysander," chipped in little Scorpius.
"That's right. Well, they went for a walk into the deep, dark forest, and they were looking for nargles. They passed right through a patch of wrackspurts and they didn't even notice, they were so focussed in their mission-"
"Except Lorc," said Lorcan in his tiny, baby voice. "He noticed cause you said he is a noticing person."
"That's right," continued Luna. "Lorcan noticed..."
Draco listened to his wife telling the story and he felt like a child himself. He felt like he was listening to his mother.
A tear slipped down his pale cheek as he remembered how his mother had never read stories to him. She had never sat next to his bed in an evening and told him tales and sung him lullabies.
"And that was how the three children found out where the nargles were," said Luna.
Draco could see her smile in his mind's eye; the smile she always smiled when she finished with something. A happy, relaxed, accomplished smile.
The door opened and Draco jumped quickly to his feet.
"I was just-" he began, but Luna shushed him with a finger over his lips.
"They're going to sleep," she said softly, taking his hand in hers and leading him towards their bedroom.
"You're-" Draco began, but then he stopped. He didn't know what to say.
Luna smiled her lopsided smile and kissed him gently on the cheek.
"I want to help you next time," Draco said, his words spilling out in a rush. "I want to read to my children."
Luna smiled again.
"Thank you," she said, so quietly that even Draco found it hard to hear her. "You're a better man than your father was, Draco."
At this, another tear escaped Draco's eyes. He pulled his wife into a warm embrace and kissed the top of her head.
"I love you, Luna," he whispered.
The End