Chapter 47 – The day of Christmas Evening 2
Since the morning Granger had left him without a word, Draco was sullen. Not only had he betrayed his late wife's memory with a drunken fuck, but the first woman he had slept with in years hadn't even stayed for the whole night. It had been a huge blow to his ego to wake up alone and hungover the next morning.
His memories of the night were unclear in some aspects and made him vary, too. He was never drunk from a few glasses of wine. It just didn't happen. He wanted to be in control at all times. After the war he loathed to do as he was told and he had drunk a lot, so his tolerance had gotten quite high. Even a bottle of firewhisky didn't get him overly drunk these days, or so he had thought. He hadn't drunk a lot since Astoria's death, focusing all his energy into trying to help Scorpius against the rumours. A fruitless effort as he now knew.
The Hermione he knew would be outraged to know he blamed his drunkenness on her, but he had seen the empty bottle the next morning, it hadn't been ordinary elf wine like he thought, but a rare and expensive one from Vogesen in France, that was known for its intoxicating nature. What he didn't understand was why she had done it. Was it just to say Good Bye to her old long lost husband, or was there more to it, and if there was one thing Draco hated above all, it was to be outsmarted.
When he had been at school, his little crush on the Mudblood had put him in a bad place. He had tried every tactic to ignore her and even stopped taunting her, because if he talked to her his heart would have tried to jump out of his chest. As a young lad he hadn't understood why he would admire one like her. When he grew older, he had outgrown his childish feelings, and while he never fell in love with Astoria, he had valued their friendship. A feeling like love was something fickle that his partnership with Astoria had never needed. Their marriage had been arranged and they had done the best they could to make it work.
They had shared their options at breakfast, always a logical debate, and had rarely shouted or quarrelled. If they couldn't agree, Draco, as the head of house, had the last word and Astoria wouldn't bring it up again.
It was by her doing that Draco had accepted that Muggleborn or Pureblood was not a matter he cared about anymore. After the war he had avoided the topic, but never chanced the circles he moved in. Not that he had a big choice of whom he spent time with. He was either the traitor, or the Baby Death Eater scum. Hadn't it been for bleeding heart Potter and Granger, he was sure he would be rotting in Azkaban.
It had been at his trial that he had accepted and understood that he had had a crush on the girl for years. Not that he had been able to do anything about it, but it had helped him move on.
When she had jumped him mere weeks ago, he somehow had thought that an old fantasy would come true.
He had allowed himself, drunken as he was, to live that dream. The morning after was harsh. Not only had his nice fantasy ended in a hangover, but Hermione had only left behind her lingering scent and a feeling of betrayal. Since then he was waiting for her to reach out again, because he couldn't wrap his mind around her behaviour.
After all this uproar in his life lately, he had hoped for a nice Christmas with his son. However, now he sat at the table and looked at his father on the opposite side with dread. The House Elves were serving the dishes for more than an hour now, but no word had been spoken. Scorpius hadn't even looked up since he started eating - or to be correct - pushing around the food on his plate. It was obvious to Draco that his son would rather be anywhere else than here.
Lucius Malfoy was watching his grandchild with disdain on his face and it was only a matter of time until he would say something to Draco about his son's behaviour. All in all, the dinner was a stuffily affair Draco would have rather avoided but couldn't. From his mother's body language, he could see that she was holding back too. Every time his father was about to open his mouth, she shot him a glance and they both continued to eat in silence.
Draco watched his son again and silently agreed with him. A dinner with the Potters couldn't be worse than this tension. The Gryffindor's would just shout out what bothered them and it would be the end of it. Maybe a shouting match would start and they would disagree, while he could add one snarky comment or another to amuse himself.
Draco felt ashamed for a moment, that he thought them to be better company than his own parents, but he dreaded what his father's words would do to Scorpius. His son took his grandfather's sharp rebukes to heart every time and grew to dislike the old man. His whole childhood, he had never been good enough for one Lucius Malfoy and he gave up on trying.
Draco could see it in the way Scorpius reacted to his grandfather these days. The few times they saw each other he never looked the older man in the eyes or started any conversation. His answers were always as short as possible and his voice flat.
Where Draco had held nothing but awe for his father when he had been Scorpius' age and every complain his father voiced was met with efforts to please, Scorpius had given up.
Draco schooled his face into an emotionless mask and continued to chew on his roast beef. Hadn't it been for the company it would be delicious. He just hoped the sharp remarks about his parenting would only start after Scorpius left for his room.
AN: Finally! I was waiting for so long to post something about Draco again. There will be more, because I love Draco and Scorpius together. All the School Chapter make it so hard to have the parents interact with the kids, so there will be a bit more about Christmas.