Fic: Once Upon a Time - For Knitterlywitch
Dec. 8th, 2011 10:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
brighty18.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
small_giftsTitle: Once Upon A Time
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
brighty18
Recipient:knitterlywitch
Rating: PG
Highlight for Warnings: *Remus and Sirius as adopted daddies, bratty children, tag-teaming on another fic, and Snape’s arse *
Word Count: about 2,900
Summary: After a long Christmas, Draco (the adopted son of Remus and Sirius) wants a bedtime story – and he demands the truth!
Author's notes: First, a big thank you tocackling_madly, my beta and friend and the inspiration for this piece. In fact, it was her fine “raising Draco" story that inspired this. (So, yes, these are set in the same universe!)
Madeline, I hope you find this to your liking. I used your “Sirius teaches Remus Riddikulus” prompt as well as your Wild Card of a bedtime story. I hope it worked, but most of all I hope that you have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
“Story!” demanded Draco with a pout. “Now!” he added, stomping his slippered foot on the well-polished floor.
Remus just sighed. “I don’t know, love,” he muttered as kindly as he could muster, “I’m really rather knackered.” It had been a long day, an exceedingly long day, in fact. Between the Christmas presents, the Christmas dinner, and the Christmas drama, all Remus wanted to do was take a quick bath, slip into his pyjamas, and jump into bed with the covers over his head. Well, that wasn’t all he wanted to do, but it was all that he could appropriately explain to his five-year-old adopted son. Merlin knows, Draco had seen enough questionable activity between his “daddies” to corrupt many a small child. The last thing Remus needed was to be forced to explain more. “It’s been too long a day and you’re tired. Why don’t you just go to bed, love?” he tried hopefully.
But, like his dark-haired adopted daddy, Draco was not easily swayed. Rather than skip off to bed as promised, he steadfastly refused to move, instead standing rooted at the spot glaring at Remus beneath his blond fringe. “Just a few stories, Daddy Moony… puh-leeeeeeze,” he whined.
“No. Into bed. Now.”
“Two? Just short ones?”
Remus gritted his teeth, regretting what he was about to say next. If there was anything he despised, it was negotiating with small children. Sirius might be willing to play such games, but Remus was most certainly not. “One story!” he promised, “but only if you’re in bed by the time I count to ten.” He took a deep breath and began, “One…
Draco blinked in disbelief.
“Two…”
Draco shifted his weight from foot to foot and plucked at the sleeve of his snitch-patterned pyjamas. “A true story!”
“Three…”
Draco eyed his adopted father suspiciously, obviously longing to push the issue further. In that respect, he was very much like his imprisoned blood-father, Lucius Malfoy. Lucius would never have given up on such negotiations, but then that had been part of his downfall as well.
“Four…” Remus breathed in and willed himself to be calm, but Draco still refused to move.
“A story about Hogwarts!”
“Five…”
“With Daddy Sirius in it!”
“Six…”
Hearing his name, Sirius barged around the corner, still humming his favorite carol. And, being the intelligent man that he was, he took one look at his pouting son and beleaguered lover and quickly assessed the situation. “To bed, Little Snake!” he proclaimed.
But Draco still refused to move.
“Seven…”
Both men fixed their best approximation of fatherly glares upon the small boy. Unfortunately, Sirius’ only made Draco laugh.
“Eight…” Remus had about reached his limit with the sodding little brat, but Sirius beat him to the mark.
“NOW!” he shouted. Waving his arms in what he hoped was a rather intimidating fashion.
But little Draco was already running, and by the time Remus had drawn a breath to begin the “nine,” the boy was already in bed. “Story time!” he giggled.
And Remus knew he had lost the battle. With a sigh of resignation, he plunked himself down on the side of the bed. “Once upon a time…” he began, stifling a yawn.
“No, no, no, a true story!” whined Draco. “About Hogwarts! And you! And Daddy Sirius! And magic!”
Remus just shook his head. Truth be told, he could think of nothing they’d done at Hogwarts that would be even remotely appropriate for innocent (well, as innocent as Draco could be, all things considered) young ears. Could he tell about the time they’d spelled half the Slytherin House a bright, acid green? No, probably not, at least not without inadvertently mentioning Narcissa. What about the time he’d loosed a pack of cloth-eating glitter fairies upon Severus Snape just to get Sirius’ attention on Valentine’s Day? Sweet Merlin, no! That would give the poor kid nightmares for weeks. A tale set atop the Astronomy Tower? The very thought made Remus shudder. “Erm…” he mumbled, searching frantically for some vague slip of a story that he might embellish enough to be interesting and yet not give Draco the wrong (or right) idea about their days at Hogwarts.
“What about a story about spells, Little Snake?” asked Sirius. Remus smiled nervously. On the one hand, he was beyond thankful to have been relieved of his story-telling duties, but on the other he feared greatly for Draco’s innocence. No story that Sirius could possibly tell would be kid-friendly and age-appropriate.
But, to Remus’ great dismay, Draco seemed more than eager. “Yes, yes!” cried Draco. “A story about spells and magic!”
“Well,” began Sirius, plopping down on the bed on the other side of their son. “It might be a little scary! Do you think you can manage?”
“Yes, sir,” promised Draco solemnly.
Remus opened his mouth to protest, but Sirius was already speaking. “So, Little Snake, do you know what a Boggart is?”
Draco shook his head, but that came as no surprise to the two men. Both were far too clean and conscientious to have such filth in their house. Sure, Remus might leave his dirty socks laying about now and then – and he rarely, if ever, could be arsed to do the dishes - but Dark Creatures hiding in filthy furniture were another matter entirely.
“A Boggart is a kind of creature that takes on the shape of whatever you fear most,” said Sirius. “They live in dark places and nobody knows what they really look like because you only see them when they take on the form of what scares you most."
“Like the scary clown in that book Daddy Moony was reading?” asked Draco.
Remus blanched. How the hell the child had discovered what that Muggle novel was all about, he would never know, but he silently vowed to keep the boy as far away from Stephen King as possible. “Yes, exactly,” he managed to choke out.
“Go on,” urged Draco.
Sirius grinned. “Well, one day Daddy Remus and I were exploring the castle and we came upon an empty classroom all covered with dust. It looked as if nobody had been in there for years, so we decided to go in and…”
“Why?” Draco interrupted.
“Why what?” asked Sirius.
Draco, despite being not yet tall enough to reach the bathroom basin, was already committed to being fastidiously clean at all times, a habit Sirius found somewhat alarming. “Why’d you go in if it was dirty?” he asked with a frown.
“So we could be dirty!” thought Remus to himself, but he wisely chose not to share such thoughts aloud. Sirius was already explaining something about secret treasure or some such nonsense.
“Anyway,” continued Sirius, “at the back of the classroom was an enormous, old wooden armoire that looked as if it hadn’t been touched in over one thousand years!” He leaned in toward Draco, lowering his voice to a whisper for dramatic effect. “It was covered in spider webs and dust, and Daddy Moony was terrified to touch it.”
“Hardly,” broke in Remus, “I’m merely smart enough not to go about opening random, ancient looking furniture. Merlin knows what might be inside.”
Sirius rolled his eyes at his lover. “Be that as it may,” be continued, “Remus refused to open it. But I being the brave…”
“You mean foolish,” chided Remus.
“…and foolish Gryffindor, marched right over there and opened it up. The door shrieked out an awful creak and stale air poured forth. I don’t think that anyone had breathed in that air since the time of the Founders. “
Draco’s eyes were wide as saucers.
“And suddenly, something huge and awful popped out! Guess what it was?”
“A hippogriff?” asked Draco hopefully. If there was anything that Draco Malfoy-Lupin-Black loved it was hippogriffs. Upon his arrival at the newly remodeled Grimmauld Place, Sirius had presented him with a huge, cuddly-toy hippogriff that the boy had clung to for days whilst bawling his eyes out. Remus, who’d originally protested giving the child a replica of a vicious, flesh-eating beast, was shocked, but soon realized that a child who’d lost his mother to death and his father to prison might cling to anything for support. And Draco had. In fact, Herman the Hippogriff was still tucked snuggly under the blankets with the boy, and both men knew he could not sleep without it.
“No,” continued Sirius, oblivious of his partner’s musings, “it was a Boggart!
“What did it look like?” asked Draco. He tried to put on his best impression of detached bravery, but Sirius knew very well that the boy was clinging to Herman under the covers.
“My mother!” replied Sirius in a hoarse stage-whisper.
“Your mother?” asked Draco, stifling a giggle. Remus saw the boy visibly relax his grip on the cuddly toy as he struggled not to laugh. “Why were you afraid of your mother?”
Remus laughed and poked Sirius in the ribs. “Sirius’ mum was a very difficult woman,” he explained. “And she wasn’t very nice to Sirius at all. In fact, she was quite mean.”
“My mummy was nice wasn’t she?” asked Draco after a small silence.
For once, Sirius was at a loss for words. In truth, he’d loathed Narcissa, finding her prissy and self-righteous up until the very day she died. Still, he had to admit that, despite her coldness, materialism, and allegiance to Dark Wizards, she’d been a good and loving mother. “Your mother loved you very much,” he said finally, stroking Draco’s cheek.
Draco smiled.
“My mother, however, was a demon Harpy from Hell and this Boggart was no different. She had long, grey hair pulled up in a bun and her teeth were yellow from bad tea and over-priced cigarettes. Her nails were long and sharpened to points, just perfect for raking down a little boy’s cheek…”
“So what did you do?” asked Draco, squishing himself down into the blankets. Herman the Hippogriff was again tucked tightly beneath his chin.
“Well, Remus had no idea how to handle it, but I remembered the special spell to defeat a Boggart!”
Remus sighed. “I didn’t precisely forget, Pads. I’d never learned it. We’d not gotten there yet in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and my childhood home wasn’t exactly riddled with Dark Creatures as yours was.”
“Anyway,” continued Sirius, “I taught your Daddy Remus a very special spell that day.”
Draco smiled. In his opinion, both his daddies were powerful wizards, but it was usually Daddy Remus who taught him things. “What was it?” he asked.
“Riddikulus!” shouted Sirius, brandishing an imaginary wand. “You close your eyes and imagine the thing that scares you the most as the funniest thing that you can picture. Then you can banish it forever.”
Draco looked thoughtful. “So what did your mummy become?”
“Jerry Hall in a gold-lame jumpsuit! She had blonde, feathered hair and…”
Draco looked perplexed. “Who in a what?”
Fearing that his boyfriend was about to Summon the large, hardbound Studio 54 retrospective they had sitting on the coffee table in sitting room, Remus broke in. “Jerry Hall was a famous disco diva – that’s a kind of Muggle music. She’s married to a famous rock musician now, but once she was a popular model of designer clothing for Muggles.”
Draco did not look at all satisfied with this explanation. Clearly, he longed to know more.
“I’ll tell you more about that later,” said Sirius, secretly rejoicing at the thought of filling the head of the only child of Lucius Malfoy with all sorts of pop-trash Muggle knowledge. In the short years that Draco had lived with him, Sirius had done everything in his power to make the child his own. He secretly hoped that someday his adopted son would be Sorted into Gryffindor and was committed to giving him the best childhood possible. “Let’s just finish the story, okay?”
“Okay,” agreed Draco. “Did you banish the Boggart?”
“No,” Sirius answered, “I figured that since I knew how to perform the spell perfectly, I’d let ol’ Moony give it a try. So I asked him to face it, and he bravely stepped up and gave it a go.”
“What did it become for Daddy Remus?” asked Draco.
“Well, it was the moon, of course,” Sirius answered.
Draco considered this for a moment. “Why was Daddy Remus afraid of the moon?” The question wasn’t out of line, really, for though Draco knew perfectly well that Remus was a werewolf, he had never encountered Moony without Wolfsbane. Perhaps more importantly, he’d been kept carefully away from the painful transformation part. Though usually sent to the Potters for the night (where, inevitably, he spent much of his time throwing blocks at Harry’s head), Draco had met Moony the Werewolf a small handful of times. Fully dosed with Wolfsbane, Moony in this form was docile and kept his human mind, resulting in Padfoot-like play and a few, exhausting games of Ride-the-Werewolf-like-a-Pony. Consequently, Draco had virtually no fear of werewolves and Moony had had his ears poked myriad times by young, chubby fingers.
“That was before Wolfsbane,” Remus explained patiently. “Transformation was painful then and being a werewolf was very scary.”
“Oh,” said Draco with a yawn. Frankly, he’d grown bored of werewolves and even the story was getting a bit dull.
Oblivious to his son’s impending sleepiness, Sirius ploughed onward. “ ‘Go on then, Moony,’ I said, ‘give it a go!’ And he did. Or at least be tried. But his fear was too great. Poor Remus was shaking at the very thought of a full moon.”
“I wasn’t exactly shaking from fear,” broke in Remus, “it was really quite cold in there.”
Sirius just snorted. “Finally, I had to stand behind him, hold him by the waist, and give him a healthy dose of Gryffindor courage.”
“That’s hardly why you stood behind me, you great git!” laughed Remus.
“Anyway, I whispered a suggestion in his ear. I told him to imagine the funniest thing possible involving the moon. And do you know what that was, Little Snake?”
“Wha..?” murmured Draco. His eyes were half-closed and Herman was snuggled up against his cheek.
“Cheese!” replied Sirius. “You’ve heard that Muggles believe that the moon is made from blue cheese, right?”
Draco had no answer. His eyes were closed and his bright blond hair fanned out against the pillow. Even Sirius could tell he was nearly asleep.
“It wasn’t exactly, cheese, Padfoot,” whispered Remus. And, in truth it hadn’t been. There was another popular Muggle metaphor for ‘moon,’ after all, and it was far less child-appropriate. The fact remained that Remus had pictured Severus Snape’s naked arse farting madly as it floated about the abandoned classroom.
“Well it was kind of like cheese,” whispered Sirius in return. “It was pock-marked and stinky and full of blue veins.”
Remus shuddered.
“And it took you no time at all to banish it.”
“I didn’t want to even look at it, Padfoot,” whined Remus softly. “It was worse than the moon or your mother or Jerry Hall’s jumpsuit or the Boggart itself!”
“But, as always, you were a fast learner,” added Sirius with a leer. He looked down at the child in the bed. Draco was fast asleep, his tiny body curled around Herman as he softly snored. “He’s really better off with us, isn’t he Moony?” Sirius asked. He thought of Lucius rotting in that far off prison and Narcissa’s snow-swept grave. He thought of the derision he and Remus had faced when they offered to take Draco in and how no one else had wanted the only child of two such notorious Death Eaters. He thought of how, in just a few short years, he’d come to love Draco as a son, and how he’d do anything to protect him. Not for the first time that day, Sirius felt overwhelmed with love.
Remus leaned in and kissed his boyfriend gently on the lips. “Yes, Pads. I think he is. We may not be the perfect parents, but we’re the best he’ll ever have.”
“Right.” Sirius gently got up from the bed, careful not to disturb the slumbering child. He held out his hand to his lover. “And now it’s time for us to be join him in the Land of Nods!”
“The land of what?” asked Remus, taking Sirius’ hand and padding silently across the carpet.
“Nods! You know, sleep! It’s been a long day and I’m tired.”
“Sleep? That’s all you’re planning on doing in bed?” laughed Remus as he shut the nursery door with a soft click.
“Well, not all, I suppose. I could hold you by the waist and help you banish a Boggart!”
Remus rolled his eyes and gave his lover a playful shove before kissing him firmly on the mouth. “That’s a wretched euphemism,” he admonished sternly, but the twinkle in his eyes told a different story. “Now to bed with you! Christmas is over and story time has passed. It’s time I got a bit of attention for a change.”
“Agreed!” said Sirius, pulling Remus into the bedroom.
Outside, the last of the Christmas snow fell from the midnight sky, blanketing all of London with a layer of soft, white silence. Down the hall, little Draco dreamed of disco divas and brave Gryffindors, of Boggarts and great, floating balls of cheese. But for the two men cocooned in their own little story of love, all was well.
Author:
brighty18Recipient:
knitterlywitchRating: PG
Highlight for Warnings: *Remus and Sirius as adopted daddies, bratty children, tag-teaming on another fic, and Snape’s arse *
Word Count: about 2,900
Summary: After a long Christmas, Draco (the adopted son of Remus and Sirius) wants a bedtime story – and he demands the truth!
Author's notes: First, a big thank you to
cackling_madly, my beta and friend and the inspiration for this piece. In fact, it was her fine “raising Draco" story that inspired this. (So, yes, these are set in the same universe!)Madeline, I hope you find this to your liking. I used your “Sirius teaches Remus Riddikulus” prompt as well as your Wild Card of a bedtime story. I hope it worked, but most of all I hope that you have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
“Story!” demanded Draco with a pout. “Now!” he added, stomping his slippered foot on the well-polished floor.
Remus just sighed. “I don’t know, love,” he muttered as kindly as he could muster, “I’m really rather knackered.” It had been a long day, an exceedingly long day, in fact. Between the Christmas presents, the Christmas dinner, and the Christmas drama, all Remus wanted to do was take a quick bath, slip into his pyjamas, and jump into bed with the covers over his head. Well, that wasn’t all he wanted to do, but it was all that he could appropriately explain to his five-year-old adopted son. Merlin knows, Draco had seen enough questionable activity between his “daddies” to corrupt many a small child. The last thing Remus needed was to be forced to explain more. “It’s been too long a day and you’re tired. Why don’t you just go to bed, love?” he tried hopefully.
But, like his dark-haired adopted daddy, Draco was not easily swayed. Rather than skip off to bed as promised, he steadfastly refused to move, instead standing rooted at the spot glaring at Remus beneath his blond fringe. “Just a few stories, Daddy Moony… puh-leeeeeeze,” he whined.
“No. Into bed. Now.”
“Two? Just short ones?”
Remus gritted his teeth, regretting what he was about to say next. If there was anything he despised, it was negotiating with small children. Sirius might be willing to play such games, but Remus was most certainly not. “One story!” he promised, “but only if you’re in bed by the time I count to ten.” He took a deep breath and began, “One…
Draco blinked in disbelief.
“Two…”
Draco shifted his weight from foot to foot and plucked at the sleeve of his snitch-patterned pyjamas. “A true story!”
“Three…”
Draco eyed his adopted father suspiciously, obviously longing to push the issue further. In that respect, he was very much like his imprisoned blood-father, Lucius Malfoy. Lucius would never have given up on such negotiations, but then that had been part of his downfall as well.
“Four…” Remus breathed in and willed himself to be calm, but Draco still refused to move.
“A story about Hogwarts!”
“Five…”
“With Daddy Sirius in it!”
“Six…”
Hearing his name, Sirius barged around the corner, still humming his favorite carol. And, being the intelligent man that he was, he took one look at his pouting son and beleaguered lover and quickly assessed the situation. “To bed, Little Snake!” he proclaimed.
But Draco still refused to move.
“Seven…”
Both men fixed their best approximation of fatherly glares upon the small boy. Unfortunately, Sirius’ only made Draco laugh.
“Eight…” Remus had about reached his limit with the sodding little brat, but Sirius beat him to the mark.
“NOW!” he shouted. Waving his arms in what he hoped was a rather intimidating fashion.
But little Draco was already running, and by the time Remus had drawn a breath to begin the “nine,” the boy was already in bed. “Story time!” he giggled.
And Remus knew he had lost the battle. With a sigh of resignation, he plunked himself down on the side of the bed. “Once upon a time…” he began, stifling a yawn.
“No, no, no, a true story!” whined Draco. “About Hogwarts! And you! And Daddy Sirius! And magic!”
Remus just shook his head. Truth be told, he could think of nothing they’d done at Hogwarts that would be even remotely appropriate for innocent (well, as innocent as Draco could be, all things considered) young ears. Could he tell about the time they’d spelled half the Slytherin House a bright, acid green? No, probably not, at least not without inadvertently mentioning Narcissa. What about the time he’d loosed a pack of cloth-eating glitter fairies upon Severus Snape just to get Sirius’ attention on Valentine’s Day? Sweet Merlin, no! That would give the poor kid nightmares for weeks. A tale set atop the Astronomy Tower? The very thought made Remus shudder. “Erm…” he mumbled, searching frantically for some vague slip of a story that he might embellish enough to be interesting and yet not give Draco the wrong (or right) idea about their days at Hogwarts.
“What about a story about spells, Little Snake?” asked Sirius. Remus smiled nervously. On the one hand, he was beyond thankful to have been relieved of his story-telling duties, but on the other he feared greatly for Draco’s innocence. No story that Sirius could possibly tell would be kid-friendly and age-appropriate.
But, to Remus’ great dismay, Draco seemed more than eager. “Yes, yes!” cried Draco. “A story about spells and magic!”
“Well,” began Sirius, plopping down on the bed on the other side of their son. “It might be a little scary! Do you think you can manage?”
“Yes, sir,” promised Draco solemnly.
Remus opened his mouth to protest, but Sirius was already speaking. “So, Little Snake, do you know what a Boggart is?”
Draco shook his head, but that came as no surprise to the two men. Both were far too clean and conscientious to have such filth in their house. Sure, Remus might leave his dirty socks laying about now and then – and he rarely, if ever, could be arsed to do the dishes - but Dark Creatures hiding in filthy furniture were another matter entirely.
“A Boggart is a kind of creature that takes on the shape of whatever you fear most,” said Sirius. “They live in dark places and nobody knows what they really look like because you only see them when they take on the form of what scares you most."
“Like the scary clown in that book Daddy Moony was reading?” asked Draco.
Remus blanched. How the hell the child had discovered what that Muggle novel was all about, he would never know, but he silently vowed to keep the boy as far away from Stephen King as possible. “Yes, exactly,” he managed to choke out.
“Go on,” urged Draco.
Sirius grinned. “Well, one day Daddy Remus and I were exploring the castle and we came upon an empty classroom all covered with dust. It looked as if nobody had been in there for years, so we decided to go in and…”
“Why?” Draco interrupted.
“Why what?” asked Sirius.
Draco, despite being not yet tall enough to reach the bathroom basin, was already committed to being fastidiously clean at all times, a habit Sirius found somewhat alarming. “Why’d you go in if it was dirty?” he asked with a frown.
“So we could be dirty!” thought Remus to himself, but he wisely chose not to share such thoughts aloud. Sirius was already explaining something about secret treasure or some such nonsense.
“Anyway,” continued Sirius, “at the back of the classroom was an enormous, old wooden armoire that looked as if it hadn’t been touched in over one thousand years!” He leaned in toward Draco, lowering his voice to a whisper for dramatic effect. “It was covered in spider webs and dust, and Daddy Moony was terrified to touch it.”
“Hardly,” broke in Remus, “I’m merely smart enough not to go about opening random, ancient looking furniture. Merlin knows what might be inside.”
Sirius rolled his eyes at his lover. “Be that as it may,” be continued, “Remus refused to open it. But I being the brave…”
“You mean foolish,” chided Remus.
“…and foolish Gryffindor, marched right over there and opened it up. The door shrieked out an awful creak and stale air poured forth. I don’t think that anyone had breathed in that air since the time of the Founders. “
Draco’s eyes were wide as saucers.
“And suddenly, something huge and awful popped out! Guess what it was?”
“A hippogriff?” asked Draco hopefully. If there was anything that Draco Malfoy-Lupin-Black loved it was hippogriffs. Upon his arrival at the newly remodeled Grimmauld Place, Sirius had presented him with a huge, cuddly-toy hippogriff that the boy had clung to for days whilst bawling his eyes out. Remus, who’d originally protested giving the child a replica of a vicious, flesh-eating beast, was shocked, but soon realized that a child who’d lost his mother to death and his father to prison might cling to anything for support. And Draco had. In fact, Herman the Hippogriff was still tucked snuggly under the blankets with the boy, and both men knew he could not sleep without it.
“No,” continued Sirius, oblivious of his partner’s musings, “it was a Boggart!
“What did it look like?” asked Draco. He tried to put on his best impression of detached bravery, but Sirius knew very well that the boy was clinging to Herman under the covers.
“My mother!” replied Sirius in a hoarse stage-whisper.
“Your mother?” asked Draco, stifling a giggle. Remus saw the boy visibly relax his grip on the cuddly toy as he struggled not to laugh. “Why were you afraid of your mother?”
Remus laughed and poked Sirius in the ribs. “Sirius’ mum was a very difficult woman,” he explained. “And she wasn’t very nice to Sirius at all. In fact, she was quite mean.”
“My mummy was nice wasn’t she?” asked Draco after a small silence.
For once, Sirius was at a loss for words. In truth, he’d loathed Narcissa, finding her prissy and self-righteous up until the very day she died. Still, he had to admit that, despite her coldness, materialism, and allegiance to Dark Wizards, she’d been a good and loving mother. “Your mother loved you very much,” he said finally, stroking Draco’s cheek.
Draco smiled.
“My mother, however, was a demon Harpy from Hell and this Boggart was no different. She had long, grey hair pulled up in a bun and her teeth were yellow from bad tea and over-priced cigarettes. Her nails were long and sharpened to points, just perfect for raking down a little boy’s cheek…”
“So what did you do?” asked Draco, squishing himself down into the blankets. Herman the Hippogriff was again tucked tightly beneath his chin.
“Well, Remus had no idea how to handle it, but I remembered the special spell to defeat a Boggart!”
Remus sighed. “I didn’t precisely forget, Pads. I’d never learned it. We’d not gotten there yet in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and my childhood home wasn’t exactly riddled with Dark Creatures as yours was.”
“Anyway,” continued Sirius, “I taught your Daddy Remus a very special spell that day.”
Draco smiled. In his opinion, both his daddies were powerful wizards, but it was usually Daddy Remus who taught him things. “What was it?” he asked.
“Riddikulus!” shouted Sirius, brandishing an imaginary wand. “You close your eyes and imagine the thing that scares you the most as the funniest thing that you can picture. Then you can banish it forever.”
Draco looked thoughtful. “So what did your mummy become?”
“Jerry Hall in a gold-lame jumpsuit! She had blonde, feathered hair and…”
Draco looked perplexed. “Who in a what?”
Fearing that his boyfriend was about to Summon the large, hardbound Studio 54 retrospective they had sitting on the coffee table in sitting room, Remus broke in. “Jerry Hall was a famous disco diva – that’s a kind of Muggle music. She’s married to a famous rock musician now, but once she was a popular model of designer clothing for Muggles.”
Draco did not look at all satisfied with this explanation. Clearly, he longed to know more.
“I’ll tell you more about that later,” said Sirius, secretly rejoicing at the thought of filling the head of the only child of Lucius Malfoy with all sorts of pop-trash Muggle knowledge. In the short years that Draco had lived with him, Sirius had done everything in his power to make the child his own. He secretly hoped that someday his adopted son would be Sorted into Gryffindor and was committed to giving him the best childhood possible. “Let’s just finish the story, okay?”
“Okay,” agreed Draco. “Did you banish the Boggart?”
“No,” Sirius answered, “I figured that since I knew how to perform the spell perfectly, I’d let ol’ Moony give it a try. So I asked him to face it, and he bravely stepped up and gave it a go.”
“What did it become for Daddy Remus?” asked Draco.
“Well, it was the moon, of course,” Sirius answered.
Draco considered this for a moment. “Why was Daddy Remus afraid of the moon?” The question wasn’t out of line, really, for though Draco knew perfectly well that Remus was a werewolf, he had never encountered Moony without Wolfsbane. Perhaps more importantly, he’d been kept carefully away from the painful transformation part. Though usually sent to the Potters for the night (where, inevitably, he spent much of his time throwing blocks at Harry’s head), Draco had met Moony the Werewolf a small handful of times. Fully dosed with Wolfsbane, Moony in this form was docile and kept his human mind, resulting in Padfoot-like play and a few, exhausting games of Ride-the-Werewolf-like-a-Pony. Consequently, Draco had virtually no fear of werewolves and Moony had had his ears poked myriad times by young, chubby fingers.
“That was before Wolfsbane,” Remus explained patiently. “Transformation was painful then and being a werewolf was very scary.”
“Oh,” said Draco with a yawn. Frankly, he’d grown bored of werewolves and even the story was getting a bit dull.
Oblivious to his son’s impending sleepiness, Sirius ploughed onward. “ ‘Go on then, Moony,’ I said, ‘give it a go!’ And he did. Or at least be tried. But his fear was too great. Poor Remus was shaking at the very thought of a full moon.”
“I wasn’t exactly shaking from fear,” broke in Remus, “it was really quite cold in there.”
Sirius just snorted. “Finally, I had to stand behind him, hold him by the waist, and give him a healthy dose of Gryffindor courage.”
“That’s hardly why you stood behind me, you great git!” laughed Remus.
“Anyway, I whispered a suggestion in his ear. I told him to imagine the funniest thing possible involving the moon. And do you know what that was, Little Snake?”
“Wha..?” murmured Draco. His eyes were half-closed and Herman was snuggled up against his cheek.
“Cheese!” replied Sirius. “You’ve heard that Muggles believe that the moon is made from blue cheese, right?”
Draco had no answer. His eyes were closed and his bright blond hair fanned out against the pillow. Even Sirius could tell he was nearly asleep.
“It wasn’t exactly, cheese, Padfoot,” whispered Remus. And, in truth it hadn’t been. There was another popular Muggle metaphor for ‘moon,’ after all, and it was far less child-appropriate. The fact remained that Remus had pictured Severus Snape’s naked arse farting madly as it floated about the abandoned classroom.
“Well it was kind of like cheese,” whispered Sirius in return. “It was pock-marked and stinky and full of blue veins.”
Remus shuddered.
“And it took you no time at all to banish it.”
“I didn’t want to even look at it, Padfoot,” whined Remus softly. “It was worse than the moon or your mother or Jerry Hall’s jumpsuit or the Boggart itself!”
“But, as always, you were a fast learner,” added Sirius with a leer. He looked down at the child in the bed. Draco was fast asleep, his tiny body curled around Herman as he softly snored. “He’s really better off with us, isn’t he Moony?” Sirius asked. He thought of Lucius rotting in that far off prison and Narcissa’s snow-swept grave. He thought of the derision he and Remus had faced when they offered to take Draco in and how no one else had wanted the only child of two such notorious Death Eaters. He thought of how, in just a few short years, he’d come to love Draco as a son, and how he’d do anything to protect him. Not for the first time that day, Sirius felt overwhelmed with love.
Remus leaned in and kissed his boyfriend gently on the lips. “Yes, Pads. I think he is. We may not be the perfect parents, but we’re the best he’ll ever have.”
“Right.” Sirius gently got up from the bed, careful not to disturb the slumbering child. He held out his hand to his lover. “And now it’s time for us to be join him in the Land of Nods!”
“The land of what?” asked Remus, taking Sirius’ hand and padding silently across the carpet.
“Nods! You know, sleep! It’s been a long day and I’m tired.”
“Sleep? That’s all you’re planning on doing in bed?” laughed Remus as he shut the nursery door with a soft click.
“Well, not all, I suppose. I could hold you by the waist and help you banish a Boggart!”
Remus rolled his eyes and gave his lover a playful shove before kissing him firmly on the mouth. “That’s a wretched euphemism,” he admonished sternly, but the twinkle in his eyes told a different story. “Now to bed with you! Christmas is over and story time has passed. It’s time I got a bit of attention for a change.”
“Agreed!” said Sirius, pulling Remus into the bedroom.
Outside, the last of the Christmas snow fell from the midnight sky, blanketing all of London with a layer of soft, white silence. Down the hall, little Draco dreamed of disco divas and brave Gryffindors, of Boggarts and great, floating balls of cheese. But for the two men cocooned in their own little story of love, all was well.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-12-20 03:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-24 07:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-20 03:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-24 07:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-20 04:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-24 07:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-20 09:04 pm (UTC)And "Like the scary clown in that book Daddy Moony was reading?” asked Draco." Remus as a King fan? ME GUSTA!!! "It" is one of my favorite books and Stephen King is God!
I love how sweet and domestic this fic was. Demanding!Draco is simply adorable. Very nice universe. Loved you used "all was well" in the end. Great job!
no subject
Date: 2011-12-24 07:15 pm (UTC)I'll admit it, It scared the living crap out of me, and when I first read about Boggarts in PoA, that was my first thought. In fact, when I actually met Stephen King (he was shopping at bookstore where I worked), I was tempted to tell him that, but chickened out.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-20 10:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-24 07:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-21 12:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-24 07:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-25 02:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-21 02:54 am (UTC)I really love domestic fics, and it's the little details like leaving socks all over the place and never ever doing the dishes that make fics like these shine. The nasty bits about Snape's arse were hilarious! (Thank you for the image, Sirius.)
no subject
Date: 2011-12-24 07:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-21 04:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-24 07:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-21 03:31 pm (UTC)This was so much fun to read. I love little Draco. And Sirius and Remus tell the best bedtimes stories.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-24 07:23 pm (UTC)I actually think that these guys would be great parents. Sirius might not be the traditional fatherly type, but I like that he;d be honest and funny and not hide things from his kids.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-22 03:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-24 07:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-27 06:29 am (UTC)And I love Herman the Hippogriff! He would be an awesome stuffed toy:)
You took a small intimate family moment and made it funny, sweet, a wee bit heartbreaking (with Draco's question about his mother) but above all, heartwarming. Love it! ♥
no subject
Date: 2011-12-27 07:23 pm (UTC)a wee bit heartbreaking (with Draco's question about his mother) I've always felt very sorry for Harry in the way his aunt and uncle spoke about his parents when he was growing-up. And James and Lily were actually good people. But if they hadn't been? I read recently that Stalin's daughter recently died and I know that she struggled all her life with the fact that her father was a brutal, murderous dictator. But it's hard to imagine how that would feel if you knew that but never really knew your parents. Poor Draco!
no subject
Date: 2011-12-27 07:31 pm (UTC)Aras_fixation
no subject
Date: 2011-12-31 05:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-01 10:26 am (UTC)