A/N: A brief comment to mar888. Draco will be going back to school soon. He has to go to Diagon Alley first. Then he'll catch the train.

Also, I should have another chapter up soon. I strained my back at work and now I have a week's vacation, maybe more if I can talk the doctor into it. (I love workman's comp.) By the way, it isn't serious. I'm just not allowed to lift anything over ten pounds. If I were a drinking man I would be exercising by doing twelve ounce curls until I no longer felt any pain. Or anything else.

On a closing note, I've been challenging people to guess which is a longer, a moment or a jiffy. Both are actual units of time. The answer is at the end of the it comes to useless information, I'm full of it.

Chapter Seven: Bedtime Stories

Draco sat up in his bed. He had managed to put on his pajamas and crawl under the covers. But that was the point that sleep left him for more willing patrons. He was trying to think about all that Sirius had said. It was all so much to take in. He had been reminded of his short stay at Saint Brutus. But this time was different. There were no nightmares coming back to haunt him. Evelyn would later tell him that the phrase was 'he had closure'. The matter could soon be safely laid to rest. He wondered briefly what ever happened to the boy who promised to be good. But that was another life. He held the stump up to look at it. The memories came unbidden.

"Shoulda been me leg, Uncle Al."

A soft knock at the door. An overly loud voice. Young and squeaky. "Uncle Dragon. You awake?"

"No," Draco called back, then added, "Come in, Cheryl."

The door opened. There stood the young girl like a picture postcard, Pink nightgown under an untied bathrobe. Bare feet. Long, messy brownish red hair with one prominent strand sticking out then bending back to end almost at the edge of her mouth. The look on her face was priceless. She should be in bed. She knew she should be in bed. But now she had the chance to do something that they would never let her do on her own.

"Is this your room?" Cheryl asked in her most innocent voice as she slowly stepped in.

"Couldn't sleep?" Draco asked casually. He watched as his niece nodded her head. He commented that it must be because of the strange house. Cheryl said it was strange. The pictures talked to her. One even told her she shouldn't wander the house. Draco said it was safe enough, the person in the picture was trying to act like a parent.

Hermione looked into the room. She smiled and said someone left the door open. Did that mean she didn't have to ask to come in? Draco saw it first. The instinctive motherly look. Cheryl should be in bed. Therefore, Cheryl should be in bed. As Hermione began to make that very comment, Draco confirmed why he was Cheryl's favorite uncle (after Uncle Kreacher). The word, shouldn't, had come out of Hermione's mouth. As in shouldn't you be in bed. Draco smacked the mattress with his hand and moved over slightly. All it took was a nod of his head. Cheryl was already old enough to understand. If she was in a bed then she wasn't out of bed. Even if it wasn't her bed. She was still violating the great taboo. She was doing something on her own when she wasn't old enough. True, Dragon and Mione were there, but they weren't parents so they didn't count. Before Mione could finish her sentence, Cheryl was in the bed, sitting next to Uncle Dragon. Her smile said it all. She was in a bed. The bushy haired girl was now powerless against her.

Hermione smiled, admitting her defeat. At least until Kreacher found her. Draco gave her an evil grin as he put his right arm around Cheryl. The young girl giggled when he said that if the house elf did show up he'd send him off for hot chocolate all around. Hermione caused her to wish Kreacher would actually show up when she asked if there would be marshmallows.

Cheryl busied herself by snuggling into Draco's side until she was comfortable, then examining his stump as he talked to Hermione. Draco even made it a point to smile and tell her it was fine. It might be her only chance to satisfy her curiosity. Hermione told him he was a natural at understanding children, probably because he was still one on the inside. Draco smirked. He wasn't growing up. He was only getting older.

He told Hermione what Sirius had said. Then he paused while he helped Cheryl learn how to say a new word correctly. Hermione said it was insightful for Sirius to ask. Cheryl said she liked that word better, after she made Hermione tell her what it meant. It was a word she could use in a sentence.

Draco followed what Hermione was saying. He was a wild card. And he didn't have to smirk about it. If Sirius were removed as his guardian, whoever took over would have control over what Draco did. What school he went to, what sports he played, even what people he could associate with. Especially that. The new guardian would also show which side was strongest. On the other hand, by legally being an adult, Draco could not be forced away from doing what he wanted. She tried to make an evil grin (which started Cheryl to giggling again) as she said that everyone would think he was on their side. By this time, Hermione was already sitting on the side of the bed. She was gaining someone's absolute adoration by rubbing her bare feet without tickling her at the same time.

A chance comment turned the conversation to another subject. Cheryl was asked if she liked the story Kreacher told her. She admitted that it was her favorite. It was about a witch who tricks an evil wizard and a bad king and makes them run away. She did it by hiding underneath a tree. She could become a rabbit. Draco told her that he had a teacher who could become a cat. She told him that Sirius can become a dog. That was more fun. You can play with a dog.

Hermione mentioned that Draco had a dragon. Draco corrected her. The dragon adopted him. Add to that, She was hatching two eggs. Soon, he would be an older brother. Cheryl tried to imagine having a dragon as an aunt or uncle. She also wanted Draco to promise that he would bring them over to the house so she could meet them. Draco kept her from pouting by promising to see if they could visit the dragons. Hermione hid her sarcasm very well when she said she couldn't see anything wrong with that. Her tone made Draco picture himself standing before Mum. She was thanking him for the snack.

"Master?"

Kreacher was standing in the doorway. He was unsure of what to do. It was Hermione who made the excuses. A strange house. Couldn't sleep. They decided to stay awake together. Draco asked for a favour. Hot Chocolate? (You, too, Cheryl insisted) And another story? It could help at least one of them to close their eyes.

Doubt became energy as he had something to do. Kreacher ran to the kitchen because the noise of apparating might wake someone who was sleeping in a room close by. A few minutes later, he was back with four mugs. Hermione noted that there was a marshmallow in each cup. Cheryl told her that Kreacher knows how to make hot chocolate properly. She took her mug, not as full as the other so that she wouldn't spill. After taking a drink and licking off her mustache, she demanded the story following it with a heartfelt "Pleeease."

The question came. Which story. Cheryl was at a loss. She loved Babbity Rabbity but she had already heard that one. She looked up at Uncle Dragon and told him to pick one. Draco admitted that he didn't know any. He turned to Kreacher. He pointed out that this used to be Regulus's room.

"Which story was his favorite?"

Kreacher gave him that look. The one that said Draco and Regulus were the same.

"That would be 'The Three Brothers', Master Draco."

Cheryl cooed and said happily that it was a scary one.

Kreacher snapped his fingers so that the lights dimmed. He then assured Hermione that he was trying to set the mood. It was a bedtime story and low lights made it easier to fall asleep. Then he began the tale. How the three wizarding brothers came to a river and created a bridge to cross it. In the middle of the bridge they encountered Death, who felt cheated. He tricked the three brothers by giving them what they most wanted. It was obvious that Cheryl had heard the story of the three brothers plenty of times before. As Kreacher described the bridge, or anything else, she would imitate his hand movements perfectly. Half the times she was also mouthing the words, probably to make sure the house elf was telling the story properly.

The first received a powerful wand which could defeat any other wand. He went out and killed his enemy in a duel. That night, he was murdered in his sleep by another wizard who wanted that powerful wand.

The second wizard was given a stone that could recall the dead. He used it to summon an old girlfriend, but she wasn't truly alive. In despair, he killed himself. The dramatic effect was ruined by a small someone yawning.

Draco smiled as Kreacher described the third brother as the youngest but also the humblest and wisest. That was when he noticed the small someone was no longer paying attention. The hot chocolate and the second story were too much for Cheryl. She was leaning against his arm, sleeping soundly. He looked up as the story came to its end. The third brother, now an old man, passed on the cloak of invisibility to his son. He then greeted death as an old friend.

Kreacher smiled at Cheryl. Then he quietly wished Draco a good night. Hermione joined him as he left, leaving the bedroom door open. It was only a matter of time until someone else stopped by.

Draco awoke with a stiff back. His right arm was still asleep as was the little girl lying against it. The morning light was coming in from the windows. And a figure was standing in the doorway.

"Time this'un woke up," Janice said as she walked up to the bed.

"Thought you'd be by sooner."

"Did. Heard you ask for a story. Knew she'd be fine."

She gently picked up her daughter who, still half asleep, wrapped her arms around her mother's neck and made a pillow of her shoulder. Both quietly left, Cheryl waving a sleepy goodbye as the door closed behind them.

It seemed to Draco that he was waking from a dream. After the party, everyone dispersed. Mick and Janice were going on a trip. They wouldn't say where. Mick told Draco not to worry. If things turned bad in the near future, all they had to do was stay where they were. They would be safe.

Dudley was back in time to see them off. He also told Draco not to worry. If things turned bad, he now had a place to stay. If they turned really bad, he had friends he could stay with. In a private conversation, he mentioned that they brought his mum to the Burrow. Everyone made it a point to be nice to her.

"She freaked," Dudley said. "She started yelling at them on the second day that they were being too nice to her." He looked at Draco. "She went on for maybe half an hour." How no one understood. How that Professor Snape would tease her. How her sister would try to console her. There were lots of things no one understood. "At the end, she yelled that she hated magic. Then she fell onto the couch, saying she loved magic. After that . . . she just cried."

Draco seemed surprised. "Whot happened? Whot the Weasleys do?"

Dudley shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know, exactly. Once Mum began crying, Molly Weasley told her sons to take me out to the fields and not come back until I learned to fly a broom. Ginny and their dad came with us." He shrugged his shoulders again. "Three, four hours later, we went back." His voice still echoed his surprise. "They were sitting in the kitchen, laughing and telling stories." Dudley stopped. His face took a serious turn. "She wants me to tell you she's sorry. Mum wants me to ask you to forgive her."

Draco was stunned. Only for a moment. He didn't say anything. He only shook his head. All of those memories were still there. Forgive? It wasn't going to happen.

Hermione and Justin were the last to leave. (Casper had disappeared the morning after the party. to visit Billy Boy.) They both invited Draco to visit. He told them this wasn't a good time. He didn't tell them, he didn't have to, that it would not be good for him to be seen 'consorting' with muggles. Visiting the house was one thing. For him to visit them? It wasn't allowed.

Draco was alone again.

After the last guest left, Draco went up to his room. He spent the time reading. School books. Old books. Anything. Occasionally, he would write something in his diary. And three times a day he would trudge down the stairs to eat a meal.

The irony was that Sirius Black understood. The meals were always kept simple and always served at the same time each day. Not that he did much of anything either. When Draco bothered to ask, he said that he was still in charge of security for Hogwarts. He had never been removed. They probably forgot, at first, then decided it was better than just telling him he couldn't be an Auror anymore. Something about an Unbreakable Vow.

Evelyn came by almost every evening. She would bring the occasional book for Draco to read. Two weeks passed when she joined the two for supper. She asked Draco a question. Only out of curiosity. His memories? He still remembered everything? How immediate were they? When he thought about them were they like fresh memories? Did they seem faded with time? Draco's first thought was that there was more than one question.

After a too long pause he answered. They were memories. They were all sharp and clear. If he concentrated, he could even make out details. Seeing more clearly what had been part of his peripheral vision. Making out background sounds that he had ignored at the time. Then he asked: What did she want him to remember?

"The cupboard. I was curious. Why were you put in the cupboard?"

Draco shuddered as he remembered the moment. The first moment that Draco, younger than Cheryl but older than Andy, was thrust into the cupboard. "Are you playing the Psychologist today? I'm not in the mood."

His meal was left unfinished as he returned to his room.

But the question had completed his task. It was like telling someone not to think of Unicorns. The image was in his head and he could not simply erase it. Sitting on his bed, he did in private what Black's girlfriend had wanted him to do in the dining room. He began to think about the memory. It was dark. There was nothing to see. He began to concentrate on the sounds from beyond the door, trying to block out the sounds of the crying boy lying hurt among the boxes and odd junk. He remembered what turned out to be an old lamp was pressing against his side. There was no old cot in there, yet.

He remembered before. Before Uncle Vernon grabbed him. He was playing with one of Dudley's toys. A car. He was moving it back and forth on the floor. He already learned not to take up too much space or make too much noise. It took his utmost concentration. He made out three words. His eyes. Hate. Then Aunt and Uncle came into view. Aunt Petunia looked at him and started crying. And yelling. It wasn't his toy. It wasn't his. He was looking at her face. She turned away. She said she couldn't stand to look at him. Uncle Vernon grabbed him. Yanked him off the floor. Yanked the cupboard door open. Threw him in. "Now no one has to . . ." The rest was drowned out by the door slamming closed.

"That was useful," Draco said to no one. But Draco was already thinking. Aunt Petunia was crying. His eyes. She turned away when he looked at her. She hated him. She hated magic. She loved magic. Draco laughed. The next logical line was that she loved him. But she didn't.

It was hours later. Draco was sleeping. He suddenly was awake. His subconscious had solved the riddle for him. It wasn't him she loved and hated. It was his mother.

The next night, Evelyn came over as usual. She was surprised to see Draco sitting in the living room, reading a book she had leant him. The psychology of dreams. He saw her surprise, and the hopeful smile that she did the right thing, that she prodded him the right way.

"Did you know?" Draco said in a conversational tone. "I have my mother's eyes."

"Then we can talk about it? Your aunt has made a peace offering. With help from Sirius. And with a suggestion from him as well. She wants to give you a present. A belated birthday present."

"In person?" Draco's posture said it all. He was willing to concede Aunt Petunia had her own problems. He was not willing to be in the same room with her if he had a choice. Evelyn Brown acknowledged him by answering that the answer would be no.

A/N: A moment is a minute and a half. A jiffy is 1/100 of a second.