"Mommy?"

Draco's head whipped around at the sound of his three-year-old son's voice. He looked at the boy standing in the doorway of his room, clutching his stuffed hippogriff, and the dragons on his pajamas breathing gusts of fire. Draco saw the tears in his eyes threatening to overflow.

"Oh, no, Scorpius, i-it's just a memory in the pensieve," Draco cleared his throat. Scorpius nodded, but his eyes never left his father's. "Come here, sweetheart," Draco whispered as he opened his arms. Scorpius ran towards his father as fast as his little legs could take him. Draco scooped him up, walked to the bed in the middle of the room, and held his son tight as he sat.

Scorpius sniffled and hiccupped, a tell-tale sign that he was trying to hold in his tears. Draco tried to smile at his son.

"My big boy. My big, strong, brave boy, Scorpius. Sometimes it's okay to cry," he whispered to his son, feeling his own tears coming to his eyes. "It's okay to cry, Scorpius. Don't bottle it up. Don't hold it in."

Scorpius' sobs were muffled into Draco's chest, and Draco's tears fell down his face into Scorpius' platinum blond hair that matched his own.

They stayed in each other's arms on Draco's bed for the better part of the night, Scorpius mourning the loss of his mother, Draco mourning the loss of his wife and best friend.

Author Note: Well, there you go. Something a bit sad.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Good old J.K. does.