Whelp

'How come?'

'Well . . .' Charlie's ears reddened. 'It's no secret that his father was a big supporter of You Know Who.'

'Who?'

'You Know Who . . . I mean, the Dark Wizard who, well . . . er, . . .'

'Killed my parents?' Harry supplied helpfully. When Charlie just nodded, he continued, 'Oh, I know that, about the Malfoys. Father told me.'

'He did?'

'Mm-hm. Well, he said I had to be careful around them. But it's okay. Draco's my friend now.'

'Uh –huh. It's good you're keeping an eye out.' He smirked and sent a horde of pawns across the board to attack Harry's pieces, which were mostly unprotected, now that he'd moved all his rooks and knights. 'Guess you should watch the game, too.'

Harry laughed and finally brought his queen to bear, having held her in reserve. 'Go get 'em,' he ordered, and the board was soon littered with dust and little chunks of arms and legs. It was fun.

---

That night, after supper and showers and teeth brushing and a story, Father sat on the edge of Harry's bed and made a silencing around them. The night light Harry had brought with him from Spinner's End went through a rainbow of colors before he said anything, though. Harry grew a little uncomfortable under his steady gaze and squirmed away.

'Did you have a good day today?' Father carded light fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his forehead and the scar that Ron had asked to see, earlier. Harry leaned his face into the touch, glad he could have this time alone, sort of, with his father.

'Yes, Father.' Harry gave him his best smile. 'We visited Hagrid and played Sploden Snap and chess and Charlie told me 'bout dragons, and he wants to work with them when he leaves school.'

'Sploden Snap?'

'It's when the cards all splode everywhere!' He jerked a little, realizing he'd been loud, and looked over at Draco, but his friend was resting peacefully. Then he remembered the Silencing.

'Ah. Exploding Snap. I trust no one lost an eye.'

Harry giggled. 'No.' Then he frowned. 'Can you, from Esploden Snap?'

'I very much doubt it,' Father said, and his lips twitched a little, like they did when he found something funny.

'Good. Are Ron and Charlie gonna come back again?'

'Would you like them to?'

'Yes, Father. But maybe not till after I can use a broom again, 'cause Ron and Charlie both play Quidditch, too, and I'd like to play.'

'I suppose we could delay it that long,' Father said slowly, and his lips did that thing again. 'Perhaps next week. They can come over and stay for a few days, like Draco is now.'

'That'll be brilliant!'

'Hush, Harry. You're supposed to be settling down now.'

'Sorry, Father. Are you gonna tell me another story?'

'No, Imp,' Father said with an almost full smile. 'I'm not going to tell you another story now. But I am going to start teaching you something that may help with your nightmares.' He held up a finger in warning when Harry flinched away, suddenly apprehensive. 'If it doesn't work, you are not to feel guilty about this, all right? It might not, but I think we should try.'

'Yes, Father.'

'And if it doesn't work, and you wake up again tonight, what are you going to do?'

'Send a message to you,' Harry whispered. There was a weird lump in his chest, and it made his eyes sting, too. 'So you can help me.'

'Exactly. I will always be here if you need help, Harry. I just wish you didn't have to go through these night terrors at all. Understand?'

Harry drew a shuddering breath. 'Yes, Father.'

'Good. Now close your eyes. I'll put my hand here. I want you to think of something pleasant, yet quiet, that can take up all your thoughts. Hm. Do you like to look at the sky, Harry?'

Harry nodded, feeling safe with the weight of Father's hand on his chest. He thought of the sky painting on the ceiling of his room at Spinner's End, and the clouds that trailed across it, making pictures sometimes. 'And clouds,' he murmured.

'Yes, and clouds. Now, keep a good picture in your mind of the clouds, and focus on your breathing. I'll breathe with you, just follow along. Breathe innnnn. Breathe ooouuuut. Innnnn. Good, now oooouuut.' While Father spoke, Harry kept a picture of the ceiling of the other room in his mind, imagining clouds floating by and turning into bears, and ships and mountains. Father smoothed circles on his chest, one way with the breathing in, and reversed for the breathing out. His words were soft, almost like he was telling a story, and Harry relaxed further and further while the sound of 'In. Out,' kept time with his breaths.

After some long while, when he was almost sure he was already asleep, Father's hand stilled on his chest. His voice sounded far away when he said, 'Keep your mind on the clouds, Harry. Watch them carefully, and if anything comes into your dreams, just bring back your picture of the clouds.'