The night was quiet, the trees that rested in the grounds of Potter Manor brushing against each other harshly as the cruel night wind whistled past the leaves and branches and then the wind hit against the windows of the Manor. And inside that Manor, a man lay awake.
Henry Potter did not usually lie awake in bed at night. But the night storm was keeping him away from the world of dreams.
Henry turned over in bed and immediately recognized the beautiful face of his wife, Charlotte.
Henry wiped a piece of Charlotte's red hair out of her face and smiled as a faint smile crossed Charlotte's peaceful sleeping face. Merlin, did he love this woman, he loved with everything he had.
Henry jotted upwards as the door to his bedroom opened and a small boy walked in.
Henry, in his sleep deprived state, didn't know which one of his sons was it at first, but once the child approached Henry's side, Henry could clearly see that it was Fleamont, his youngest.
"What's up, Mont?" Henry asked as the four year old sat up on the bed.
Fleamont blinked slowly and then tears began streaming down his face.
"Come here." Henry said, reaching his arms out for the little boy. From beside him, he could sense Charlotte waking up.
"What's wrong?" Henry said softly as Fleamont lay on his chest.
Fleamont continued to sob for a few minutes and then began to shiver.
"I don't feel good." He sobbed quietly into Henry's chest. Henry pulled Fleamont under the duvet with him and Charlotte so the boy wouldn't freeze to death.
"Sh, it's alright." Charlotte said softly, moving closer to Fleamont, so that Fleamont was like the filling in a sandwich.
"Where does it hurt?" Henry asked.
"My head hurts a lot, and I feel hot." Fleamont sniffed. Henry frowned and felt Fleamont's forehead, then swore silently. The poor boy was burning up with a fever!
"Monty." Henry said. Fleamont turned to face his father. "You're going to go to sleep now, alright? Mummy and Daddy need to sort this out, okay? I might put a small charm on you."
Fleamont nodded and buried his face in Henry's chest.
Henry smiled fondly at the little boy curled up against his body, his face red with warmth.
Once Henry was absolutely sure Fleamont was asleep, he turned to Charlotte.
"He's boiling." Charlotte said after she felt Fleamont's forehead. "He's got a fever."
"What should we do?" Henry asked as he sat up in the bed, Fleamont still laying on his chest.
"Well, we could figure out what's wrong with Monty." Charlotte said sarcastically, sitting up in bed.
"Of course." Henry said, laying Monty gently in the middle of the bed. Monty didn't stir.
Charlotte (being better at Healing Magic then Henry was) began casting spells and charms upon the four year old boy. She sighed when she finished.
"Stomach bug and a chest infection." She said sadly. "The poor boy couldn't sleep all night and he's dehydrated as well because he was coughing so much."
"What can we do to help him?"
"We've got Muggle steroids downstairs, that'll help." Charlotte said, taking Fleamont in her arms. "Antibiotics and a shitload of water."
"Let's go then. What are we waiting for?"
Ten minutes later, Henry and Charlotte were in the kitchen, Monty still asleep in Henry's arms (Charlotte had passed Monty to him when they were going down the stairs)
"Monty, Monty!" Charlotte said.
Monty stirred weakly and a minute later, opened his dark blue eyes.
"I'm tired." He mumbled sleepily, burying his face in Henry's chest. "I wanna go back to sleep." He clutched his chest and sobbed. "It hurts!"
"You'll be able to go back to sleep in a little bit, alright?" Charlotte said comfortably to Monty. "You just have to take this stuff that is quite nasty tasting, but it'll make you feel better."
Monty yawned and he nodded as he buried his face in his father's chest.
"Monty." Charlotte said.
Henry watched as Monty told the cup from Charlotte's hands and glared at it suspiciously.
"Are you sure it'll make me better?" Monty said softly.
"Absolutely." Charlotte said.
Monty drank a little bit of the liquid and whimpered.
"You're doing brilliant." Henry said as Monty drank three quarters of the liquid.
"That should be enough." Charlotte said.
Monty sighed in relief.
"But you have to drink some more of something else, okay?" Henry said.
Monty shook his head.
"Don't like that stuff."
"But it'll taste nicer." Henry said.
Monty nodded as he drank some fizzy liquid.
He giggled.
"I love that stuff!" He giggled as he buried his face in Henry's chest. "It tastes nice!"
"Good then."
Monty's eyes widened and he began coughing badly. Henry panicked.
Monty, after the coughing fit, buried his face in Henry's chest.
"I'm tired Daddy! It hurts a lot!" Monty sobbed.
"Stomach ache." Charlotte whispered.
Monty nodded tearfully.
"How bad does it hurt?" Charlotte asked.
"A lot, Mummy!" Monty whimpered..
"Pain Relieving Potion for young children... Thank Merlin!" Charlotte sighed as she poured milk into a different cup. Then she poured the potion into the cup.
"There you go." Charlotte whispered as Monty drank the milk hungrily. "Are you alright now?"
Monty nodded, and immediately fell asleep in Henry's loving arms.
"He can sleep in our room." Charlotte whispered lovingly. "Give me my son."
Henry passed Monty over to his mother, his brain going into overprotective mode.
"I wanna snake!" Monty mumbled sleepily as Charlotte laid him down in the middle of the bed.
"Who?"
"My toy snake!" Monty sniffled. "Bob helps me get better!"
"Accio Bob the toy snake."
The toy, a small green and silver snake, appeared in the room less than thirty seconds later. Monty's face lit up with joy.
"Bob!" He cried out as he cuddled the small toy close to his chest.
"Aww." Charlotte said.
"Very happy reunion, but Monty, i think it's past someone's bedtime." Henry said as he got under the covers.
"Fine." Monty said, cuddling under the blankets and immediately falling asleep.
His parents slept on either side of the little boy, and a peace spread over them that night. Henry and Charlotte were like guardians of the night to their children and family, but most importantly, they would protect their loved ones until they took their dying breaths.