June 25, 1987
“What novel would you like for me to read you tonight, Dragon?” Lyra, Draco’s mother, asked him.
The seven-year-old smiled up at his mother, climbing out of bed and walking over to his little bookshelf, pulling out a biography on the Boy Who Lived. Bringing it back to his mother, he smiled again, holding it out to her.
“Can you read about Harry Potter again, mother?” Draco asked, climbing onto the bed next to his mother.
“Of course, son, come on, let me tuck you in.” She said, and Draco climbed under the covers, his mother tucked the blankets around him.
Draco's sister, six-year-old Ayla stumbled in, yawning.
“Mummy can I listen? I’m tired of waiting.” Ayla whined.
Indulgently, Draco patted the spot next to him.
His sister smiled sleepily at him and climbed in, snuggling into his side. “What are we reading mummy?”
“We’re reading about Harry Potter, dear.”
“Again? Draco has an obsession with him!” Ayla whined, glaring at the book.
“Do not! Mum, tell her to stop!” Draco cried, his cheeks tinged pink.
“There is nothing wrong with admiring someone, Ayla, such as your liking for Celestina Warbeck.” Lyra said, smirking as she watched her daughter’s face heat up.
“It isn’t my fault she is a wonderful singer, mother.” Ayla said, flipping her hair off her shoulder, leaning into Draco.
“Okay, enough teasing… Can we please read about Harry now?” Draco asked, eager to hear about his favorite celebrity again.
His mother cleared her throat, flipping to Draco’s favorite chapter.
“The Boy Who Lived defied the greatest dark wizard of the century, he was left to bear a scar of that Hollow’s Eve when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came to Godric’s Hollow. The scar was that of a lightning bolt, and the small boy was taken from the ruins, at just one year old, and hasn’t been heard from since…” His mother had continued reading his favorite chapter, but Draco was already asleep, his dreams filled of The Golden Boy, and his hopes to meet and befriend him someday.