Harry was scared.
He was not used to this darkness. Usually, his mommy would light his nightlight and leave his door ajar after she and daddy read him his good-night story, but these strange adults must have forgotten. His small fists gripped his blanket, pulling it up to his nose.
He was scared and cold and wanted to go home. He wanted his mommy and his daddy to pick him up from this place. He didn’t want to stay with these people who were screaming at him, who were forgetting about his good-night story and his nightlight, who didn’t kiss his cheeks or hug him tightly before sending him off to bed.
Harry felt his tummy hurt and his throat burn and his nose run. He sniffled. He was cold, this old blanket that the scary woman had thrown at him doing nothing to keep him warm. His tiny body shivered.
“Mommy!”, Harry sobbed loudly, tears streaming down his face, soaking his blanket. “Daddy!” He knew they would come and comfort him if only he called for them loud enough. They would put their arms around him and he would feel their warmth and everything would be okay again.
The only response was the creaking of this strange house. Harry heard the wind howling in the distance.
“Mommy!”, Harry cried, his sobs leaving his body shaking. “Daddy!”
No response. Nobody came to free him from this darkness.
Had they forgotten about him? Or did they not want him anymore? Was that why they left him with these mean people?
“Mommy”, Harry whispered, utterly devastated. He curled himself into a ball, pulling his knees up to his chin, hugging himself tightly, imagining the arms of his parents instead while he silently cried into his hard pillow.
He passed out from exhaustion a few hours later.
❉
Harry startles awake, feeling momentarily disoriented. His body feels sweaty and hot, with his hair sticking to his wet forehead. His eyes itch and his throat burns. The blurry ceiling spins before his eyes. His heart speeds up and he feels sick to his stomach. For a few seconds, Harry just tries to catch his breath, fighting against the dizziness threatening to take over.
He is at home, Harry realizes. It has been a dream, an echo from a distant memory. He is at home and in his room, far away from his relatives. He is safe now, he tells himself. He instantly feels lighter.
“-ry?”, a muffled voice asks beside him. Harry looks down at Draco who squints up at him with drowsy eyes, a worried expression clear on his face.
Warmth rushes through Harry’s body. Just the fact that this man is here beside him overwhelms him in the best kind of way. Draco is the only person that makes him feel the love he has so desperately missed during the entirety of his childhood.
“Just a nightmare, love”, Harry answers quietly, pushing a few strands of his husband’s blond hair out of his forehead. “Go back to sleep.”
Draco hums and opens his arm. Harry knows that he is still soaked in a cold sweat and probably reeks, but he complies nonetheless. Draco throws his arms around Harry and pulls him close to his body, holding him. Harry sighs and hides his face in Draco’s neck, breathing him in.
He knows that Draco will ask him about his nightmare. They will talk about it in the morning, curled up on the sofa with cups of tea standing on the coffee table, still steaming. Draco will comfort him, stroke his hair, and press soft kisses on his skin to make Harry feel loved and cared for.
But for now, all Harry wants to do is fall back asleep, protected by strong arms around his body, feeling deeply loved.