Chapter 2
Harry sat in front of his fire thinking. It had been almost a week since he'd taken Malfoy's son in and he was running out of ideas about how to reach the boy. He'd tried everything he could think of in an attempt to get past the boy's outer shell and failed miserably. It was ironic in a way. Here he was, the saviour of the entire wizarding world, the one who had vanquished Voldemort once and for all and he couldn't even get through to a little boy who was obviously in great emotional pain. Rising from his chair he went round the house, made sure that everything was locked up for the night, and that the protective wards were properly set before heading upstairs to bed. He was just passing by Christopher's room when he heard it. The sound of sobbing. He felt his heart ache for the young boy, and without thinking he gently opened the door and entered the room. The boy was lying on the bed on his right side, facing away from the door. By moonlight Harry could see the small body was wracked with the force of barely concealed tears. He remembered how aloof Draco had always been, never showing his emotions. Obviously Malfoy's weren't supposed to cry. Reaching the bedside Harry scooped the small boy up in his arms before sitting in a chair by the bed. The boy continued to sob, apparently unaware that he was being held. Harry began to gently stroke the boy's back while cooing words of comfort. He felt the boy go rigid in his arms and looked down into a pair of puffy, tear stained, silvery grey eyes that seemed to be reguarding him with curiosity. Harry smiled at his young charge who suddenly broke into a fresh burst of tears. Harry continued to hold the boy as he released his pent up grief.
The early morning sun broke through the window and fell on Harry's face. He opened his eyes. a feeling of warmth and weight drew the attention of his sleep fogged mind and he looked down at his lap. Why was young Malfoy in his lap? Then he remembered. He'd heard the boy sobbing and had felt compelled to offer what comfort he could. Apparently he'd fallen asleep holding the boy. Gently, trying not to waken him, Harry lifted the boy from his lap and placed him back on the bed, and quietly left the room to start preparing their breakfast.
Harry sat in front of his fire thinking. It had been almost a week since he'd taken Malfoy's son in and he was running out of ideas about how to reach the boy. He'd tried everything he could think of in an attempt to get past the boy's outer shell and failed miserably. It was ironic in a way. Here he was, the saviour of the entire wizarding world, the one who had vanquished Voldemort once and for all and he couldn't even get through to a little boy who was obviously in great emotional pain. Rising from his chair he went round the house, made sure that everything was locked up for the night, and that the protective wards were properly set before heading upstairs to bed. He was just passing by Christopher's room when he heard it. The sound of sobbing. He felt his heart ache for the young boy, and without thinking he gently opened the door and entered the room. The boy was lying on the bed on his right side, facing away from the door. By moonlight Harry could see the small body was wracked with the force of barely concealed tears. He remembered how aloof Draco had always been, never showing his emotions. Obviously Malfoy's weren't supposed to cry. Reaching the bedside Harry scooped the small boy up in his arms before sitting in a chair by the bed. The boy continued to sob, apparently unaware that he was being held. Harry began to gently stroke the boy's back while cooing words of comfort. He felt the boy go rigid in his arms and looked down into a pair of puffy, tear stained, silvery grey eyes that seemed to be reguarding him with curiosity. Harry smiled at his young charge who suddenly broke into a fresh burst of tears. Harry continued to hold the boy as he released his pent up grief.
The early morning sun broke through the window and fell on Harry's face. He opened his eyes. a feeling of warmth and weight drew the attention of his sleep fogged mind and he looked down at his lap. Why was young Malfoy in his lap? Then he remembered. He'd heard the boy sobbing and had felt compelled to offer what comfort he could. Apparently he'd fallen asleep holding the boy. Gently, trying not to waken him, Harry lifted the boy from his lap and placed him back on the bed, and quietly left the room to start preparing their breakfast.