Marriage Pt. 3 - Drarry

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A/N: I kind of hate this, but whatever. I'm not feeling great so it probably isn't gonna be very good. I just wanted to get something out. I've had such bad luck with writing lately.

Weddings should be happy occasions. The union between two people who love each other very much must be a celebration, Draco supposed. If only he loved his bride-to-be. If only it wasn't an arrangement, meant to benefit him and his father. If only it were Harry that he was marrying tomorrow. 

But it wasn't, and Harry had made it very clear what he thought about it all. 

Draco swallowed the lump in his throat and turned over in bed. Moonlight danced through the window and illuminated his new suit, laid out, and cleaned for the wedding tomorrow. It really was a nice suit, one of the finest Draco had ever owned. His mother had it ordered from a distinguished French tailor. She had been so happy to learn of his engagement. 

He hated to disappoint her, had hated it his entire life. It wasn't his father's wrath that he'd feared so much in his school days, but the heavy, sad look of disapproval in her eyes. Harry had never understood that. 

Draco pushed back the suffocating blankets and slid across the cool floor to the comfy armchair by his window. Sleep was elusive as it ever was, and he doubted he'd get more than a few minutes. 

He sighed and leaned back against the cool panes of glass. Memories of masculine hands, hardened by years of hard work, and soft lips against his own brought angry tears to his eyes. In the dark of night, it was hard to pretend that their parting was anyone's fault but his own. 

He growled into the black. It was Harry who had refused him, Harry who had ordered him away. Harry hadn't wanted him, and the sinking feeling in Draco's stomach was no more his fault than anyone else. 

With those thoughts chasing about his troubled mind, Draco settled back to wait the rest of the long night out.

+            +             +

"Draco!"

Draco sat up with a start. His mother stood before him, brimming with poorly concealed delight and her hands clasped before her. 

"Good morning, dearest," She trilled. "Are you ready?"

Draco yawned and brushed the sleep from his eyes. "Hm?"

"Oh do wake up, darling. It's your wedding day!"

Dread sank like a weight in his stomach as he gained his bearings. "Oh, yes!"

"I brought you breakfast. I thought we could eat together one last time before I have to send you off." A sadness glimmered behind the mask of happiness. 

Draco swallowed heavily and managed a smile. "Of course, Mother."

He stood and stretched before offering the other armchair to his mother. Two trays sat on his desk, and he carried them over. 

As they dug into their breakfast, Draco caught his mother staring at him more than once. 

"Are you excited?" She asked at last.

"As much as can be expected."

"Are you happy?" Her words were so careful. Malfoys' didn't say things without meaning, and Draco was horribly afraid of hers.

"I-I suppose I must be."

His mother frowned carefully and looked down at her hands. "I remember my wedding day. I was a wreck!" She laughed bitterly. "I didn't have much choice in the matter, you know. Our families had been friends and business partners for ever so long, and it was pretty much expected that I'd marry your father someday. It wasn't that he was a bad man, he isn't. But I barely knew him, and there was so much pressure on me to have a perfect wedding. My sister, Andromeda, had run away from hers a few weeks prior. It was a whole disaster."

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