Back again, readers! Ugh, my computer certainly doesn't love me. It keeps forbidding me Internet access-some stupid virus that reappears like black mold every time I manage to eradicate it. Nothing to do but keep fighting back, I suppose, but it makes updating a real pain.

I must say, it's a relief for grad school to be over for the next few months and [work] school's ending this month, but the last-minute madness of preparing students' records, portfolios and paperwork is killing us all. It seems like there have been fewer hours in the day as of late-I sat in traffic for 2 hours on my way home yesterday, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel impatiently and singing along to my zydeco in overly-loud Cajun French that probably scared the crap out of the people in the cars nearest me, as I'm willing to bet none of them got a word of what I was saying. There's only so many times one can sing "Jole Blon" before it starts to get old. Oh, well...it's New York; I'm sure when they count up the weirdest things they've ever seen in this city, me & my zydeco music won't even rate the top 10.

Next-gen this time around, as per a request. I decided to wait on Harry & relations' kids for a while as I jot down plot points for them; in the meantime, I decided to write Draco's little darlin'. Hope you like it!

When Darkness Falls

Scorpius Malfoy had a secret.

No, he didn't still wet the bed. He sincerely didn't enjoy the boring tea parties Mother sometimes dragged him to. And he certainly didn't have a tiny crush on that lively, freckle-faced brunette he had bumped into in the candy shop the other day ("Urgh, Dad, girls have cooties," he had insisted at the time).

This secret was not a playful one, not by a long shot. It was a dark secret that only came out to haunt Scorpius when his mother pulled the bedroom curtains and kissed him goodnight.

Scorpius Malfoy was afraid of the dark.

He couldn't help it, really. It wasn't as if he wanted to feel that creeping dread every time the lights went out. He certainly never planned for the wind to make those creepy noises outside his window, or for the floorboards to creak ominously whenever he tried to tiptoe out of bed for a glass of water. It just...happened.

The dark conjured up all sorts of bad images. Dark curses that left Father quiet and withdrawn some nights. Dark, mad eyes staring up at Scorpius from a picture of a teenaged girl he had found in his grandmother's bedside cabinet drawer. Dark wizards lurking in the Malfoy family tree, who for some reason prevented other kids from playing with Scorpius or laughing at his jokes. Dark looks exchanged between Mother and Father whenever he asked them why he didn't have many friends. It seemed like Darkness was everywhere he looked. Even his name sounded Dark.

Yes, Scorpius had good reason to fear the dark.

Tonight was one of those windy nights. It howled outside the windowpanes incessantly. Like a ghost, thought Scorpius. Maybe my room is haunted.

Instinctively, he looked around the room, straining his eyes for any hint of supernatural activity. He clutched his stuffed dragon close. There was nothing. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Should I try to fall asleep? He wondered this to himself, twisting the blanket between his fingers. Father would want me to be brave. He wouldn't be proud of me if he knew I was scared.

Scorpius tried to think of what his father would say if he told him about his fear. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. After all, it wasn't like he was planning on confiding in Grandfather…

Grandfather is scary. Even Father seems scared of him, sometimes.

Scorpius knew that his grandfather loved him and would never hurt him, not ever. But that didn't stop him from being a little afraid of the man. Lucius Malfoy commanded respect and deference from everyone he encountered and, even after his spectacular fall from grace, he had never abandoned the habit. Grandma was a lot easier to talk to.

Everyone says Father's just like Grandfather, Scorpius mused, largely to distract himself from the wind's mournful howl. But he's not. Father talks to me when he tucks me in every night. He plays with me and builds me castles out of blocks and secret hideouts in the garden. He lets me dance with Mother at parties while he sits and watches. He even pretends not to like the cherry on top of his ice cream so I can have it. I don't think Grandfather ever did any of that.

These thoughts strengthened Scorpius' resolve just a little. Maybe he should tell his parents how he felt; it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe they would even let him sleep with the light on.

Cr-re-eak. Scorpius sat bolt upright.

"What was that?" he asked the stuffed dragon. Unsurprisingly, it did not respond. Scorpius felt himself shivering, though it was too dark to see his hands shaking in his lap.

Cr-re-eak. There it was again! That scary sound—it made the hair stand up on the back of Scorpius' neck, reminding him of the eerie screech of a hag he had once spotted when out shopping with his mother. What if there's a hag in my closet?

Scorpius weighed his options. He could try to ignore the sound and go to sleep. He could risk life and limb investigating the closet for evidence of hags. He could try to sleep in the drawing room, which was just as dark as his bedroom but perhaps without the hag in the closet. Or he could wake his parents and beg them to turn on the lights. Decisions, decisions…

Cr-re-e—CRASH! That was it. There was nothing for it. At the sound of the crash, Scorpius leapt from his bed and positively sprinted across the room, abandoning his slippers and dressing gown, taking only his toy dragon.

His feet flew over the hall's rich carpeting as he streaked towards his parents' bedroom. What was that awful crash? Is there really something living in the closet after all? Scorpius shook his head violently, as if the gesture would sent these disturbing thoughts flying out of his brain.

When he reached his parents' bedroom door, he hesitated for a moment, hand poised over the finely wrought silver doorknob. Now that he was here, Scorpius wasn't so sure he wanted to wake them after all.

The closet! Whatever's in there will get me! There's nothing else I can do!

Taking a shuddering breath, Scorpius turned the doorknob and slipped inside.

The room was a bit quieter than his had been, but he could still hear the wind moaning outside. Across the vast expanse of carpet, he could see the huge, dark shape that was his parents' bed.

He crept towards his mother's side of the bed. She was sleeping peacefully, completely undisturbed by the horrors concealed inside her son's bedroom closet. Scorpius thought fleetingly of curling up on the ground beside her and spending the night there, on the floor. It was certainly a more welcoming possibility than returning to his room.

"Scorpius?"

It was Father's voice. He was peering over the edge of the bed and Mother's sleeping form, propped up on one elbow, eyes searching blearily through the darkness.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

Scorpius gulped. Now or never. "It's my room, Father. There's something in there. There are all sorts of scary sounds and at first I thought it was the wind," he began, the words tumbling out of him in a great rush. "But what if there's something in my room, hiding in the closet, waiting to eat me? The shadows make scary pictures on the walls and I can't sleep."

He paused to draw breath. His father simply stared. Might as well do the thing properly. "It's the dark, Father. I'm…I'm scared," Scorpius finished, somewhat lamely.

"The dark. I see." Draco paused, deep in thought, scrutinizing the abject terror on his son's face. He sighed. "Well, there's only one thing we can do."

Scorpius froze. Father looked serious. He's going to take me back to bed, he thought with a sinking feeling.

Draco nudged his sleeping wife. "Astoria. Wake up. Move over a bit, will you?"

Astoria Malfoy murmured in her half-awake state and rolled over obligingly. Draco got out of bed, walked over to the spot where Scorpius stood, still clutching his stuffed dragon, clearly confused. He wrapped his arms around his son, picked him up and settled him into bed between Astoria and himself.

"Better, Scorpius?" he asked.

Scorpius snuggled into the crisp sheets, breathing in the smell of his mother's herbal shampoo and feeling the reassuring warmth of their bodies beside him. Somehow, the velvety darkness was more comforting than scary, now.

"Yes, Father, much better."

"Good night, son."

"Good night."

Thoughts? Please let me know! It's always good to hear from you guys...makes up for every time I get stuck in traffic on the way home or some kid at work says my accent's funny.

Also: ideas are incredibly appreciated.

Judging by the precarious state of my computer, I'm not sure when my next update will be, but I'm fairly sure it will include a certain underage werewolf. I'm saying nothing more.

'Til next time, then,

Delilah