A/N: Just a short little drabble type thing. No real point to it but, hey, when you're hit with an idea you write it down. Even if it's bad as this one. Please, don't judge all my HP works on this!
"Mummy?"
Madame Delacour frowned slightly, lowering the book that she'd been reading. "Fleur? What are you doing up, mon petit enfant de la Lune?"
It had been almost three hours since Madame Delacour had tucked her daughter into bed. The young child didn't normally get back out of the bed once she'd been tucked in. Her Grandfather, Olaf Delacour, had terrified Fleur from that habit with his tales of monsters and spirits that would snag her if she did. Of course, Grandfather Olaf hadn't been allowed to tell the child any form of stories since then but, still, Fleur was petrified of being 'caught' by the monsters.
"I'm sorry, Mummy, I know I shouldn't be up..." The young girl, only nine years of age, hung her head. With both hands clasped behind her back, no doubt fiddling with the long, golden blonde hair that she had been blessed, and one foot shuffling against the carpet, she gave off the air of a child about to be scolded.
"Nonsense!" Setting the book down on the table beside her, Madame Delacour unfolded herself from the plush sitting chair. Long legs, covered in a thin pink skirt, made crossing the drawing room easily and she had no problems with lifting her daughter up.
Fleur squeaked and wrapped her arms around her mothers neck. Burying her head into the soft shawl still wrapped around her mothers shoulders, she let out another quiet apology.
Madame Delacour's frown deepened. What on Earth had gotten into Fleur to be acting like this? Even when she was afraid, the young Delacour child didn't act like this. So fragile and open and, though it was clearly because she was terribly upset, Madame Delacour couldn't help but wish she could see this more often.
Fleur was such a closed off child. Never wanting to go out and play or leave her studies to be by the side of a friend. Even with her parents, she didn't indulge in the care-free display of love that her mother had hoped for. That her father had dreamed of.
"Tell your Maman what has upset you." Madame Delacour whispered, resting the hand not securing her daughter to her ontop of Fleur's head. "I will do my best to fix it."
The young girl in her arms let out a muffled sniffle. "I'm sorry, Mummy, I didn't tell you!"
A spike of worry shot through Madame Delacour and she had to fight to keep her voice even and gentle. "Tell me what, darling?"
There were a few moments of silence while Fleur just clutched her mother. Barely stopping the tears welling behind her eyes, Fleur tilted her head so she was facing her mother's neck. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you how much I love you, Mummy."
For little Fleur had a dream that night. A dream so terrible she thought it was real. And, in that dream, she'd woken up to an empty house. To a world where her father had left and her mother was no where in sight. She was alone and scared and all that she'd been able to think of was that she couldn't remember the last time she'd told her mother that she loved her.
And it was that thought that had forced her from the bed, even when all the lights had been turned off and the monsters were out. Fleur had needed to know that her mother was still there with her. She needed to tell her that she was loved.
It was those words that had brought Madame Delacour to near tears. "I love you to, darling. Je t'aime, mon enfant de la lune. Very, very much. Never forget that, Fleur, ever."
Fleur let out a little yawn, happy now that she'd told her mother. "Okay, Mummy. Will you tuck me back into bed now?"