Draco sat bolt upright and clutched at his covers, trembling from head to foot.
He stared into the darkness with bright eyes, waiting for and dreading to see it - the bright flash of light in his room.
It came, and he dove under the covers. He hated lightning and thunder and wind and rain, and at night when he was alone in his huge, dark room, they positively terrified him.
The thunder came again, and he whimpered, his hands over his ears, his eyes squeezed tight shut against the thunder. And he cried, out of terror and the misery of being alone.
And then he heard a sound - he always dreaded that sound, especially when it came during a storm. It was the sound of his door swinging open, and that meant he would have to cross his great bedroom and close it, a frightening experience at best, and positively paralyzing during a storm.
He steeled himself under the covers, counting - one, two, three - and was just about to jump up and run to shut the door when he heard the door close again of its own accord. Confused, he waited to see what would happen.
Footsteps crossed the room.
A voice whispered, "Draco?"
He lifted the covers. A small circle of light, cast by the candle in her hand, revealed the face he most wanted to see.
"Mama!"
A bright flash of light rendered him blind, and he cringed.
Narcissa set the candle down on the dresser next to his bed and crawled under the cover with him. Thunder cracked, and she reached out and pulled him to her.
"I know, baby. It's okay."
He stopped shaking.
"How do you always know, Mama?"
"I love you more than anything else in the world," she answered simply.
He snuggled against her, and this time when he heard the thunder it didn't scare him. He was safe.
"I love you, Mama."