Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any characters, ideas, or plots affiliated with the series. I'm simply exploring them.
A/N: This is will just be a simple compilation of longish DHr drabbles for each holiday, starting with Mother's Day, between the postings of my other stories. The next one will be Father's Day, I think, but I'm really not sure what holidays I will do. I'm totally open to suggestion – do you have a favorite holiday you'd like a drabble about? Let me know and I just might write it.
Anyway, this one is Mother's Day. The lullaby used is called "All the Pretty Little Horses," and I apologize for not knowing the original writer. My mom used to sing this to me when I was little because I was really hard to put to sleep, so that's the inspiration for this. Enjoy!
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Hush a bye, don't you cry
Go to sleep, little baby
When you wake, you shall take
All the pretty little horses
Oaks and bays
Dapples and grays
Coach and six of little horses
The woman's voice was clear and smooth, the words floating off her lips with melodious elegance. The occasional creak of her rocking chair sounded strangely harmonious when it interrupted her song as she sat in a darkened room. The moon cast cool beams of light across the carpeted floor as it crept noiselessly through the window, the blue walls changing the white light to appear a pale gray.
The baby in her arms cooed softly as he reached out a hand to paw at her dangling curls, grasping the shiny tassels in a tiny fist. His cherubic, pinked face brightened in an innocent smile as his mother continued to sing to him. The white-blond wisps of hair blanketing his head stirred as a gentle, cool breeze danced through the room.
Slowly, very slowly, after many long lullabies and reassuring coaxing, the baby's eyelids fluttered and dropped, his pale blue orbs finally hidden from the night.
"Is he asleep yet?"
The woman turned slightly in her chair to face the voice, a relieved smile warming her face, tired eyes sparkling. A man was leaning against the doorframe languidly, his blond hair just catching the most far-reaching moonbeams.
She nodded and motioned him closer with a careful tilt of her head. With soft footsteps, he came to stand behind her, leaning over the back of the rocker. He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, a tender, uncharacteristic smile lighting his weary features as he gazed into the face of his son.
Carefully, with graceful ease, the woman stood and crossed the room, delicately placing the baby inside a crib. She wrapped a clouded blanket around him as the man came to stand beside her, both taking a silent moment to marvel.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, the man leaned towards her and whispered into her hair, reverence and awe filling his voice.
"You're a wonderful mother, Hermione."
She tilted her head towards him, a fatigued smile flitting across her face.
"Thanks, Draco."
With a last look at their peacefully sleeping son, the young parents turned away from the crib and moved to the door, leaving it half-way open behind them. A few minutes later, the hallway light flicked off, plunging the home into darkness except for the glowing pools of moon across the floor of the blue-walled nursery. The blond little boy stirred in his sleep and rolled over, the wind whispering a soft lullaby as the night wore on.
Oaks and bays
Dapples and grays
Coach and six of little horses