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Sometimes when I reflect back on all the wine I drink I feel shame.
Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the vineyards and all of their hopes and dreams.
If I didn't drink this wine, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered.
Then I say to myself, It is better that I drink this wine and let their dreams come true than be selfish and worry about my liver.
~ Jack Handy
Friday, March 30 ~ Evening



Once Draco had reached a certain age, Malfoy family dinners had certainly become more interesting.

First there were before dinner drinks.

Then wine with dinner.

Then after dinner drinks.

Family was decidedly easier to handle with a buzz. "...and he didn't even get a pre-nup! The fucking Idiot - is that legal?"
 
 
 
 
 
 
"Draco, Draco, why do you concern yourself with such commoners in the first place?" Lucius drawled his eyes narrowing a bit. Had there been something going on between Potter and Draco? He shuddered inwardly at the idea.

"Let's just hope they don't breed as often as the Weasleys," he said with a smirk. He raised his brandy, his eyes lighting on his wife, her pregnancy becoming more evident in the recent weeks.
Fortune indeed smiled upon Bellatrix after so long spurning its faithful servant.

So Potter had taken himself a bride. Who knew what Dark deeds they could be capable of together? Bellatrix had no need to see the future, however. She had hard-won knowledge, seen with her own eyes, of what they both were capable of.

She could not but wish the darling couple well on their future endeavors, which with her contined guidance would only escalate in greatness.

And what gift would be fitting such an occasion? Ah, there had fate intervened so kindly again. A whisper of a smile glided across her face as she mentally laid in plans.

Kitten. He will be so pleased to see me.

The end of Draco's interminable rant had brought her attention back to the rest of the room, where her brother-in-law was indulging himself in gloating over her sister's condition once more.

"Indeed, there's nothing so tiresome."
As Narcissa considered her family over the glass of sparkling grape juice, she decided they were quite fortunate she hadn't ordered the elves to give them each a good dose of belladonna as she had considered earlier. It would make life much easier right now with these strange cravings and mood swings that seemed to rule her life without the benefit of alcohol.

When Draco informed them of the marriage between Potter and the Greengrass wench, Narcissa's first inclination was to send a discreet order for an accident to happen to the new bride. When her son didn't seem overly - upset about the marriage itself - merely the fact Potter hadn't gotten a pre-nuptial agreement, she relaxed a trifle.

Her husband's response made her roll her eyes.

"Honestly, Lucius. I know you have ten years of politics to catch up on because of Azkaban, and he may be a commoner, but she's a pure-blood and with the marriage he gains a bit more respectability in our society. Not much I grant you, but some. That coupled with his monetary holdings and this fancy little school he's opened - he'll be a bigger thorn in our side soon enough I would imagine, which is probably why he didn't try for a pre-nuptial agreement. Greed on the part of the woman's family would make the marriage a certainty."
"You are vile, vile people," Draco muttered before draining his glass and setting it down. "Normally I quite like that."

Hope they don't breed as often as you do. Yes, probably better not to have said that - his mother's hold on her glass was looking a bit twitchy. Grape juice did stain horribly, he suspected that may be the only reason she hadn't hurled it yet. She always had liked the carpet in here.

Draco refrained - barely - from rolling his eyes. "Yes, Father. Why in the world would anyone be interested in Harry Potter? It's not like I was his best man or he got rid of Snakeface or kept me from sharing an adjoining cell to yours or anything."

...and now would probably be a good time to flee.

"And bringing up Weasels is just - gah! I have to go be ill now. Excuse me." Plus - there were presents upstairs! Apparently shopping for the inheritance stealer baby meant shopping for Draco as well.

He sensed he could use this.

Draco nodded to the others, stopping by to give his mother a kiss before leaving the room and rushing up the stairs.

Mine! And no stupid looking at wood!

Mwhaha!
Draco had been in the middle of changing into one of the outfits his mother had picked up for him when that elf that was always hanging around her had dared to pop into his room! About to scream - and this proved they were all perverts! - Draco had been distracted by something in her hand. Not the one that was currently being used to bash a candlestick holder into her - he assumed it was female anyway, so not checking - head. She placed the container on the bed and gave him a look - one that he certainly hoped didn't mean what he thought it might - before popping out again.

Even for a house elf, that was odd.

Against his instincts Draco had approached the bottle and after being assured it was harmless, picked it up.

What the bloody hell?

Well... He assumed his old school potions kit was maintained by the elves - Draco figured it was time to go make sure. Maybe then this would make sense.

Twenty minutes later, Draco knew that it was and that somebody was in trouble.

It wasn't him for a change.

And he was going to be splitting less of his inheritance than he had previously assumed. And new found support for his lifestyle.

And maybe a pony.

Sending a note via house elf - a different one - Draco made his way to wait in his father's study, a small sample of what he had found tucked in his pocket.
Curiosity was a rare thing nowadays for him yet Draco had elicited it with his note. His son had avoided being alone with him for any stretch of time since the conversation of Draco doing his duty.

Had the boy changed his mind now that there another heir on the way?

He highly doubted it.

Lucius entered the study, one brow arching. "Yes, Draco? You wanted a word."
"Oh, I'm rather certain that this will take several," Draco replied with a grin as he took a seat on the edge of the desk. "You may want to shut the door, Father."

Taking the sample he'd brought with him out and toying with the vial, Draco looked down at it and then back up at his father. "Unless you've told Mother she was taking a fertility potion? It would account for the death glares."