*This story is the outcome of becoming obsessed with Harry Potter. Again. Why? I have no idea… READ ON!*
"Is the young Master alright?"
Draco looked up, then down to the house elf at his side. Dobby, he remembered. The blonde cocked his head to the side in confusion as he stared up at him, silently concerned. "Of course I am!"
Dobby gave him a disbelieving expression – one Lucius would have clearly punished him for, if the older man was there. He wasn't, however, along with Narcissa. The couple had, rather reluctantly, had to attend a very important party at the Ministry that night.
They still had yet to come home. They had been gone over three hours.
Draco took on a look of guilt, understanding what the elf was getting at. "I'm fine." But even he sounded unsure of himself. He looked back to his food – his barely touched food, mind you – playing with it uninterestedly with his fork.
"Does the young Master wish Dobby to take him to bed?" the elf suggested.
A moment or two passed before Draco nodded, placing his fork down and hopping off the chair next to the other. Dobby nodded, motioning for Draco to follow as the other house elves came in from the kitchens and other rooms about the manor. They were clearing off the table.
Draco glanced around as the candles and lamps that lit up the interior began extinguishing on their own, leaving the white marble and dark green furniture dull gray and black in color. It gave off and eerie sort of feel, one that made Draco wrap his robes tighter around himself and shiver.
"Is there something wrong, sir?" Dobby asked as they started up the staircase leading to the upper floors and Draco's bedroom.
Draco shook his head. "No. Let's just hurry."
"Yes, sir."
~SPACER-THING~
"Dobby?"
The elf turned around from his path to exiting the room. "Yes, sir?"
Draco shifted uncomfortably, burying deeper into his blankets. The candle at his bedside dimly lit his pale skin and silvery hair, giving off a honey sort of glow. "Erm… can… can you… read me a story?"
Dobby smiled, nodding his head and having his ears flop around. "Yes, sir. Is there any specific story you want Dobby to read?"
Draco looked anywhere but at the elf, mildly embarrassed. "… Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Mum bought it from a muggle bookstore for me when we had gone out that time ago."
"Yes, sir." Dobby scampered over to the bookshelf, one of the many in the room, climbing up on the step stool Draco himself used now and again and searching for the hardcover in question. Once he had found it, he hopped back down, hurrying over to Draco's bedside. He was a head shorter than the mattress.
"Sorry." Draco sounded like he meant it.
"Oh, no, no, no, sir! 'Tis not the young Master's fault!" Dobby assured, racing off and pushing over a rocking chair from the corner of the room. Draco used to heave himself up on the cushioned seat and rock himself joyfully back and forth, over and over, laughing all the while. Such simple things, which entertain young children.
Dobby crawled onto the chair, sitting up against the back and flipping open the book.
"Dobby?"
The elf looked up. "Yes, sir?"
Draco was quiet for a moment or two, staring up at the ceiling as though it was the most interesting thing in the whole world. "… why aren't mum and dad ever here for Christmas?"
Dobby kept his sympathy lock up tight inside; the poor boy was lonely. "Dobby is not certain, Master Malfoy, sir." Draco's face fell. "Although, he does know that, whatever the case, they'd much rather be here with you." He grinned toothily as Draco shifted to face the elf, smiling coyly, silently pleased.
"Thank you, Dobby."
"You are welcome, sir." And with that, Dobby began reading the book aloud. Narcissa had taken the time to teach he and multiple other house elves how to do so, in case a situation such as the one he was currently in rose up. The small six-year old knew how to read some, but was still struggling with the larger words.
Apparently, Narcissa's idea had indeed paid off. Sadly, it was also on Christmas Eve.
~'NOTHER-SPACER-THING~
By the time Dobby had reached Alice's meeting with the Cheshire Cat, the elf finally noticed that Draco had fallen into a peaceful slumber. Smiling that crooked smile of his, Dobby leaned over and ruffled the blonde's whitish-yellow locks, sliding off the chair and pushing it back into its place.
Once the book had been returned, he scurried over to the door, snapping his fingers and causing the candle to snuff out. Draco unconsciously burrowed further into the blankets, curling up into a ball. With that, the house elf left.
~END
*Aw! Isn't six-year old Dray adorable! I don't know what's wrong with me. I have a thing for black haired Goths and bleach blonde meanies. I have a curse, I swear this to you reviewers. Speaking of reviewing… (points to the button below) Ahem. (cough-reviewplease!-cough)*