Unexpectedly Expecting

20: More Thanksgiving Drama

Draco

The vault engagement ring was burning a hole in the Malfoy heir's right tuxedo pocket; a ring he did not want to give out. The formal dining room of Prince Manor was just as elegant and refined as dinner at home would be...if a certain deranged wizard wasn't living there, that is. His Aunt Hermione sat at his Uncle's right side, and she had a smile plastered on her face, but she wasn't exactly happy. Dad wasn't happy due to his stresses from work due to the Ministry cracking down on muggleborn interrogations/tortures, and because he was still grieving over losing mum to her own sister.

Potter, his cousin, and her wolf...nope, they all screwed each other, Draco amended in his mind, was not happy. Weaslette was not at the table, so that meant no Aunt Andra was going to show up to dinner tonight.

Then there was him. He wanted to go to school, play his final year of Quidditch, he didn't even want Astoria Greengrass, and she didn't want him either. Sure, the sex wasn't bad, and they used protection charms every time they got it on, just as he did with Pansy Parkinson before Voldemort "broke," them up last year. But he did not love her, and he was not ready for marriage. But try telling Daddy Dearest that; that was one Pandora's urn he did not want to open.

Everyone tried to make small talk, except for dad and himself. Dad practically stared into his wine glass as if the answers of the universe could be divined there. Draco simply ate his turkey and fixings, and spoke only when spoken to like the good little pureblood wizard he was raised to be.

When dinner was over, Draco retreated to the stables, and found Annabelle, his favorite Abraxan mare in the whole stable. "I thought I might find you out here," His Uncle's voice floated to him as he was brushing out her dark brown coat.

He nodded, continuing to brush her. "I suppose I don't need to tell you what's up, considering you read minds almost as well as the Dark Lord."

His Uncle shrugged. "I make it a habit not to employ legilimency on a daily basis, because the mind is not a book to be opened and perused at will. I know Lucius won't be forthcoming about your current teen angst considering his grief, and I find myself of an eccentric mood to listen to such drama, so pray say what is on your mind, Draco."

Draco grinned, putting away the brush, and moving the bucket of whiskey so Annabelle could drink. She eagerly quaffed it down, and Draco pat her mane affectionately. He washed his hands, and they walked out of the stables, and towards the beach.

"I...I don't...I'm not ready for marriage."
"Do you not love the witch, or..."

"I care about her, but...I just want to be a damn kid!" He nearly shouted. "I want to take the risk of breaking school rules, and having fun with my Quidditch teammates. I want to just have fun with witches without the risk of putting a ring on it. Is that so wrong?"

His godfather was quiet for a long time, but his face softened slightly, and Draco saw the pain underneath his usual cold stoic exterior. "No, that is not wrong. I am far from an expert on matters of the heart."

They leaned against the beach walkway, and Draco had to speak up then, "I don't think any of us are, you know, but...Even I can see you have it bad for your wife."

He expected his Uncle's anger, but instead he nodded. "I must be going soft at my advanced age, or it's the fact that I have children on the way. Or, I am terrified of allowing my heart to let another witch in after my first ill advised experiment with love."

"Nothing scares you. You're like the bravest Slytherin I've ever met in my life," Draco asserted, meaning it. "You can't tell me that from what you told me about your school days that admitting you're in love with your witch scares you, Uncle..."