Writing Challenge 37 - The Daddy Challenge.

There are so many great father figures in Harry Potter; Lucius Malfoy, Arthur Weasley, Lucius Malfoy, James Potter, Lucius Malfoy, Ted Tonks... Did I mention Lucius Malfoy? There are even some nasty ones! Yes I'm looking at you Marvolo Gaunt. So I want you to pick one (or more!) and let your imagination run free! Loving their own son/daughter, looking at how their father influenced them, judging someone elses parenting skills or a little domestic scene. Whether it's a sweet little father/son moment, or some shameful DILFing (I did mention Lucius Malfoy didn't I?) I want you to write a fic of a multiple of 100 words based around a Daddy.

Enjoy!

The Nightmare

Lucius Malfoy

I was warm. I was comfortable. The hazy pleasantness on the verge of deeper sleep cocooned me.

Then a small hand tugged at my covers.

Such a small annoyance, the movement didn't pierce my sleep befuddled mind for a long time. Time enough for the hand's owner to become very distressed indeed. It wasn't until soft whimpers started very near my ear that I jerked to consciousness.

The sudden movement produced a frightened squeak from the whimperer.

Staring blearily into the darkness I searched for the source and got my first glimpse of my son's.

Tear tracks stained their way down his blotchy cheeks. More tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, framed by spiky wet lashes, and threatening to fall. Two chubby hands reached upwards and a hoarse little voice pitifully whispered one word. "Daddy."

In a sweep of bedclothes he was in my arms sobbing into my chest.

"Hush, hush baby. Tell Daddy what's wrong."

I glanced at Narcissa's side of the bed for guidance. It was empty. My wife was in Venice with Carolina bloody Zabini, who apparently had "needed a holiday."

And I was left at home with a crying child.

In desperation I started pacing the room Draco in arms, bumping him up and down like a baby, trying to calm him down. Because he was my baby, even if he was a big boy of four years old.

Little arms curled around my neck as my shoulder became steadily damper. Draco's wails became louder and higher pitched working into a brilliant crescendo right in my ear. And suddenly it stopped.

With eery speed watery sniffles replaced the noise, and a tired little body slumped completely against me.

"What's wrong Little One," I murmured, sitting back down on the bed. "What frightened you?"

Unintelligable mumbles were all I got in answer.

"You'll have to speak up Draco," I said, gently pushing his chin up with one finger. "Daddy's a bit deaf."

"I had a bad dream," he whispered pathetically. Big grey eyes searched me out looking for disapproval. He was so small and so vulnerable and so desperately desperate for comfort.

"Oh Draco," I sighed, kissing his head. "My poor boy."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, my hand rhythmically stroking his back, as if I could stroke my comfort into him. AS if by stroking I could assure him everything would be all right and Daddy would fight the monsters away.

It worked. Slowly his breathing became more regular and the iron grip on my neck loosened.

"Daddy?" a calmer little voice asked softly. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

I pursed my lips. Cissa and I had had the same conversation a million times. I was adamant. Draco was too old to be sleeping in his parents bed. We had to wean him off it or he'd be in there every night. It was a hindrance to his development and our sex life! I wouldn't stand for it. I was putting my foot down.

And then Cissa would smack me round the head with a pillow and tell him to "Jump in poppet."

Draco rolled off me and began to pull at a thread on Cissy's pillow. The infamous thumb slowly snaked its way towards his mouth. I swear I was on the verge of saying no. Then the big grey eyes, identical to my own, assaulted me again.

Naturally I crumbled.

"Okay baby boy." I poked his belly smirking. "But don't tell your Mummy, she'll tell me off."

I got one sleepy giggle.

And he was asleep.

Thoughts?