A Tale Before Bedtime Credit: Tran Kim Tung from the "715 và cái Lò Luyện Ngục" Facebook group. “Mum… I had a nightmare…” Albus Severus Potter, a six-year-old boy at the time, timidly knocked on the bedroom door of the young married couple. Dracaena Malfoy Potter and Harry James Potter. Fortunately, neither of them had fallen asleep yet. The two of them came to the door, opened it, and found their son standing there, clutching his teddy bear. His eyes were exactly like his father’s, but everything else about him was unmistakably his mother—a miniature, male version of Dracaena. “Oh, darling, what’s wrong?” Harry asked gently, wiping the tears from the boy’s cheeks. “Did you have a nightmare?” The two of them took Albus by the hands and led him back to his bedroom. Harry lifted him onto the bed, while Dracaena looked straight at the scar-headed man. She winked, then glanced down at the bookshelf, where there was an entire collection of fairy tales from both the wizarding world and the Muggle world. In other words, she wanted him to read their son a story. A classic, respectable bedtime story. “I’ve got a better idea,” Harry whispered. He approached the boy and began telling him a story. “Well, you see, Albus… nightmares are something you’re bound to encounter sooner or later. You know… just you, all alone in the dark, with no one around and—OW!” Harry had barely begun his disastrous opening when Dracaena immediately smacked him round the back of the head, making him jolt. “Why did you do that?!” “Shush. Let me handle this.” With that, she produced a box of toys. Inside were little red toy soldiers, all of them positively radiating an air of courage. “Have you ever heard of something called Dumbledore’s Army, darling?” She had brought up the legendary resistance group from their school days, and Harry winced at the memory. “Darling, I really don’t think this is the appropriate time to tell him about that.” Harry tried to stop her, but Dracaena merely smirked and carried on. “I think Albus deserves to know about his father’s glorious past. Now be quiet and sit still.” She teased him mercilessly before beginning to recount the details of his past. “Ahem. You see, darling… back then, the students had this one professor who, in my humble opinion, was quite possibly the worst teacher our generation had ever encountered!” “She was so awful that even mentioning her name still gives me the shivers.” Harry clicked his tongue. He really did not want his son knowing anything about that woman. “That toad was practically the stuff of our childhood nightmares.” “Really, Mum? I thought Hogwarts only had brilliant professors,” Albus asked. Dracaena simply shook her head, whilst Harry seized the opportunity to tease his wife. “You know, Albus? Your mum actually worked under her.” “Oi! Even though I worked under her, I still turned a blind eye and let you and the Weasley twins run wild, didn’t I?” Dracaena shot back at him. Harry merely pouted and nodded, unable to argue with the truth. “Wait! Mum knew Uncle Fred?!” Albus’s eyes widened with innocent wonder, his little ears practically perking up at the mention of the famous Weasley twins. “He was one of the bravest people your father and I ever knew,” Harry said softly. “And probably the funniest person I ever knew, too. It’s just that he…” “I-I understand…” Albus interrupted quietly. “Uncle Ron told me about the Battle of Hogwarts. And when I asked him about the two troublemakers from Hogwarts, he wouldn’t tell me anything because I was still too young…” He lowered his head. “I think I can imagine what happened.” His little face fell. His brows knitted together, and his eyes became noticeably sad. The two of them knew their son was quite intelligent for his age, but this level of understanding was still rather impressive. “Yeah…” Harry pursed his lips. “Your mum and dad’s generation fought so that your generation could have a happier life.” He ruffled Albus’s hair, his chest swelling with quiet pride. “But anyway, your dad led Dumbledore’s Army. He trained them almost like a proper professor, despite being so young himself, so that they could stand against that woman’s tyranny.” “And now…” He gestured towards the little red soldiers. “Think of these as your own army.” “The plastic ar—” Harry was about to make another joke about his wife’s idea. “SILENCE!” One sharp look from Dracaena was enough to make him swallow hard and immediately switch into full ‘Yes, ma’am’ mode. “Heehee…” Albus giggled. “Dad’s really scared of Mum!” The boy had just twisted the knife even deeper into his father’s wounded pride. Harry could only force a sheepish smile and attempt to save face. “Son… one day, when you’re older, you’ll understand why being afraid of your wife is the key to survival.” Dracaena shot him an unimpressed glare, though secretly she was rather pleased that the family philosophy of ‘It’s better to put your wife on a pedestal than a Horcrux’ was already being passed down to the next generation.