Intervention; Malfoy Manor [DM, RB, RL] WHO: Draco, Regulus, Rabastan WHERE: Malfoy Manor WHEN: 28 November, 1999 SUMMARY: Regulus and Rabastan go to reason with Draco. COMPLETED LOG. RATING: PG-13 for various
“How did I get talked into this again?”
Rabastan chuckled as he watched Regulus look over a small arsenal of items he had brought with him and then shrink them down into a small drawstring pouch and stick them in his pocket. “It was half your idea, Regulus.” Rabastan answered him. Regulus had come to get him, and from the Centre they would go straight to Malfoy Manor to try to tame and redomesticate the beast that was currently running on a rampage there.
“I know I know,” Regulus groaned, looking over himself in the mirror before turning toward the main door. “I'm just not looking forward to it. I'm afraid that if we fail Cissy's going to just fall apart. You didn't see her after she got back from there. It's bad.”
Rabastan rested a hand on Regulus's shoulder. “We won't fail. I promise.”
Things went quickly from there, Regulus had already taken care of the necessary paperwork for Rabastan's day pass, and so he was free to go. The two went to the apparition boundary and Apparated to Malfoy Manor, where they were quickly ushered in by one very distressed looking house elf. “Master is not feeling up to visitors.” It lied loyally. “Master will be pleased to know that you came, but he is feeling...ill.”
“Drunkenness is not illness.” Regulus replied in a soft groan as he regarded the creature.
“We're here to help him sob...feel better.” Rabastan interrupted, and the creature finally gave in, leading them to where Draco was.
Draco, beyond the absolutely necessities of the call of nature and unforeseen circumstances, had not moved from the chair in front of the fire in his study since Daphne had left the house two days ago. Any interruption in his process of drinking, passing out, waking up and drinking more had been dealt with in his sobered moments, such as when his mother had Vanishing all his alcohol. It had been a matter of ten minutes to acquire enough to continue drinking and he had scheduled a steady delivery to forestall his mother pulling the same tricks again. It was in one of those brief, not-quite-sober-but-mostly-coherent moments that he had done the one thing that had driven him further into a bottle, rehired the guards Daphne had had in the period between the attack on her and his release form the Centre.
Even thinking about him now made him want to drink more, which was currently the case, as the bottle itself was held to his lips, the glass in his hand forgotten. At least, until a house-elf entered to bother him, tall shadows behind the creature intruding in the corners of Draco's vision.
“Get out!” he slurred, aiming his half-empty glass at the creature. Despite Draco's aim being incredibly poor, it made a frighted sound as the glass hit the wall several yards away, the action splashing the contents out in a wide arc along the wallpaper. The stains joined older ones at the same level, as though this had not an been uncommon occurrence, and even at least one set far higher on the wall, closer to the height of a person.
“GET OUT!” he ordered again with a look that was more belligerent than fearsome and the house-elf disappeared, but the shadows in the corner of his vision remained. Balefully, he turned his gaze to them. With his alcohol-puffy eyes half-closed, his features oddly favoured the far more heavily-lidded Blacks than the sharp, pointed Malfoy features right now.
“What t'bloody 'ell do you want?” he demanded, his tone slurred and just as ineffectually fearsome as his gaze.
Rabastan stepped into the room first, followed by Regulus, both men looking disapprovingly at the scene before them. Regulus almost started to clean up part of the mess, but Rabastan stopped him with a quick look. Perhaps matters like this were best handled slowly, and ridding the room of all of the alcohol might make Draco panic.
"To come visit, Draco..." Rabastan said, stepping over the shattered remains of one glass to get to a chair near Draco. "It seems you've been having..." He trailed off, his eyes narrowing as they took in sight of a relatively high up stain on the wallpaper. "an interesting time."
Regulus took the more direct approach, nudging one of the bottles aside with his shoe with a disdainful look. "Really, Draco..." he tisked. "All the Black family needs is a drunkard in the family to make our ranks of degenerates complete. I'm back from the dead, your Auntie Bella is off running on a rampage, your other Auntie Andromeda has been disowned...and that's in this generation alone. You've got to stop this." He was trying for levity but the disappointment in his voice was clear.
“G'way.” Draco scrabbled on the floor for something to throw and when he came up empty, all beyond his reach, he grew angrier. “Leave me 'lone,” he growled, tipping his head back to take another long drag on the crystal decanter, so far from refined and mannered that he did not care when it slopped out on his robes front, for a crystal decanter was not meant to be drunk straight from. At this point, he could have been drinking rainwater for all he noticed the taste. It was all about staying beyond the place where thinking started.
"Draco..." Rabastan sighed, not liking the boy's temper or his trying to drink himself into oblivion. He didn't know what else to say, how else to even go about fixing this.
Regulus ignored the boy's antics for the moment, pulling open the heavy drapes that were concealing the windows and opening one of them to let in some of the brink winter air, not to cool the room down, but to let out the reek of alcohol in the room. "Ah...." he said, smiling in relief as the bright sunshine started to pour into the room. "That's much better, wouldn't you think?" He moved, beginning to one by one vanish the broken bottles. "You've made quite a mess of things, haven't you, Draco? The house is a disaster, I have a small inkling that you've said some pretty despicable things to your mother, and you've managed to chase off a very sweet girl who was mad for you." His tone was harsh but it softened with his next words. "How are we going to fix it? I'm your family, Rabastan is your friend, how are we going to make things better? I know a good start getting rid of this..." he paused, leaning to pluck the decanter out of Draco's hands. "and cleaning up your robes."
As the light hit his eyes, making him wince and shut them tightly, Draco let out a howl of outrage and flung the decanter his his hand, the glass shattering on the fireplace and the dripping alcohol making the flames flare wildly. Angered by the intrusions then the loss of alcohol, he slammed his hand down on the table beside him and swung it back and forth until he found a mostly empty bottle.
When his new find was all but taken away, Draco swung first with a fist, ineffectually punching nothing but air. “Geroff,” he snarled, swinging next at Regulus with the decanter before guzzling the rest sloppily. If someone intended to take his alcohol again, he'd get as much inside him as he could and then wait until they went away to get more.
Regulus laughed, moving from Draco to go work on vanishing some more of the mess. "That swing was off, even for a drunken louse of a Black."
Rabastan, however, was not amused. "Draco..." he said sternly. "You are not going to make this big of a fool of yourself, do you understand? You are your mother's son if nothing else and for Merlin's sake, she did not raise you to be this way." He leaned over, taking the decanter from Draco's fingertips. "You helped guide me through some of the more difficult moments of my life and now I will return the favor, whether you like it or not." He lowered his voice, remembering when Daphne had come to the Centre to volunteer the day before. She had looked as lost as Draco did, as lost as he was certain Narcissa felt after the sight of her son sinking to such a level.
"You're being ridiculous." Regulus interjected, taking the decanter from Rabastan easily and tossing it into the flames, looking for other half full ones on the table. "You have a gorgeous fiancé who loves you and she's hurting right now missing you. You don't look like you're having a picnic either. Damn it, Draco, what difference does it make what the Abbott girl's lineage is? She likely would have to be there anyhow as the minister's daughter, is it really worth losing Daphne to argue about where she stands or sits?"
Mention of the Abbott name only seemed to incense Draco more than their interfering and he swung both arms around wildly. Truth be told, he was assimilating very few words from all being spoken around him at the moment, but what he was gathering infuriated him. “Filthy!” One fist connected with the back of his chair and he seemed to view it as a victory as he did it again. “Mudblood!” Yet, all his flailing was bound to move him from his drunken slump and with a sound thump, he slid to the floor.
“Blood traitors!” He waved a hand about accusingly, only accidentally pointing it in the direction of voices, rather than through any coherent coordination.
"Ugh...." Regulus moved so that he was standing at Draco's head, looking disdainfully down at him. "This will apparently be more work than I was planning on." He motioned for Rabastan to move to the boy's feet. " He's filthy." he said, getting the idea that Draco wasn't listening or, likely, was incapable of really understanding them anyhow. "Though I'm half tempted to drop him in the lake just like this, I don't think that Cissy would appreciate us drowning her son. Perhaps after he sleeps off the worst of his drunkenness he'll be a bit more...receptive."
Rabastan nodded, reaching down for the boy's feet, but Regulus changed his mind at the last moment, shaking his head for Rabastan to wait.
"He wouldn't drown in a fountain."
"Regulus!"
"He wouldn't." Regulus smirked, reaching to put his arms under Draco's shoulders to help lift him, and a reluctant Rabastan did the same. "I'd rather tell Cissy it had to be replaced from outdoor wear and tear than explain to her that her son was so saturated with alcohol that he ruined one of the bathtubs. We'll dump him in and the cold water should bring him to his senses relatively quickly, and then we'll have a long talk."
Rabastan looked skeptically down at Draco, wondering if he knew just what he was getting into, then shrugged and lifted Draco's feet. It couldn't hurt at this point.
Oh, this was not on, not on at all. Draco wasn't entirely certain what was going on, but he did know there was no alcohol in his hands, people were grabbing him and he just wanted to be alone. Oh, and they had brought up one of his sore spots.
“Bastards!” he yelled, flinging himself back and forth when he felt himself being manhandled. “Blood traitors!” When insults didn't work, he resorted to more basic commands – though, not intentionally. The haze of alcohol was making anything beyond basic nearly impossible to form in his head, let alone do. “No touch!”
"Oh for Merlin's sake..." Regulus dumped Draco on the floor near the door rather unceremoniously, finding it too difficult to carry the squirming boy, and instead drew his wand, levitating the still struggling drunken young man.
"I'm worried about him." Rabastan said quietly.
"What?" Regulus snorted, effortlessly guiding Draco through the open door with the spell. "That he's drunken his mind into oblivion? I wouldn't fret too much, Rabastan, I'm sure that his brain has just sponged up all of the liquor, and once we wring it out, he'll be fine..."
Rabastan raised an eyebrow, but lingered in the house a moment longer to sternly order a house elf that her master was very "ill" and would need several potions and warm blankets and pajamas after they were finished outside. He didn't want Draco to catch his death of cold, but he couldn't let him sit idly in the warm study drinking himself to death either.
As far as indignities went, this would be the lowest point for Draco, being carted of to be dumped into the fountain on his own property in winter weather. Had he realized just what was about to occur to him, he might have struggled more than he was, which considering his drunken state, was a considerable about of flailing and cursing. Even had he been conscious of the mess he had become, he would not have cared.
And then it was nothing but cold and wet and that he did care about. He began to flail, survival instincts kicking in even as the shock of the temperature and lack of air around him began to partially sober him faster than most potions could. He sucked in a mouthful of icy water from below the thin layer of ice he had broken through and choked, struggling for air and not more water.
Regulus's hands dove under the water just as Bastan sprinted out and reached for him as well, them both pulling up the boy's shoulders. "I should have brought some shampoo." Regulus sneered quietly. "His hair even reeks of alcohol."
"Hush..." Rabastan said, swiping the boy's hair back from his face with a swift gesture and looking down into his eyes, concern evident.
Regulus cursed as the slippery boy slipped through his hands and started to sink under the water again, catching him only barely before his head was submerged once more. "We need to get you cleaned up, and we need your attention Draco." he said firmly, holding his arms tightly to prevent him from slipping once more. "Daphne deserves more from a fiancé than this."
The gaze that met Rabastan's was bloodshot and malevolent, but it was nothing compared to the look Draco turned on Regulus at the mention of Daphne. He was only vaguely able to piece together what had been said before, but the simple fact they were here interfering in his life infuriated him. Of course, there was very little that did not infuriate Draco at the moment.
“Get the hell off my property!” he spluttered, the words no longer as incomprehensible and unformed as before but definitely still slurred beyond the coughing up of water, as even the shock of cold water would not entirely shake the drunken stupor he had carefully crafted for two days
"Not going to happen, I'm afraid..." Regulus said, his voice suddenly serious. "You've made a huge mess of things, I know that you've been an ass to your mother though she refuses to talk about it, I know that you've hurt your fiancé, and I know you're hurting yourself now. I'm your blood, and for all of your talk of blood that means something." He flicked his wand idly at Draco, lifting him from the fountain with no more concern than he would have used for an old sack of potatoes, then he started to walk inside, irritation evident.
"Come on..." Rabastan said quietly, extending a hand to the boy, offering to help him ot his feet. "You'll freeze out here in this wind if you don't get inside too."
Sneering, Draco ignored the hand held out to him, stumbling to his feet almost unsuccessfully. “Like you cared about that when you tossed me in there,” he spat, nearly falling on his face again before screaming for a house elf. When one popped beside him, he ordered it to help him inside to his bedroom. There was plenty more alcohol there, he could get some down and be on his way back to his stupor before anyone interfered.
When the house elf deposited him in his room, he looked around, trying to remember where he had hid the bottles up here. The problem was he had been on his way to very drunk when he did it and even with the cold to sober him up a bit, he still couldn't remember. Letting forth a loud string of curses, he began to tear the room apart.
Without the aid of the house elf to come rescue them, it took Rabastan and Regulus a few moments longer to get there, but they swiftly made their way to his room.
"Draco..." Rabastan said, his voice very stern once more. "Is this truly what you want?" He took several strides into the room. "Hurting your Mother, disappointing the rest of your family?" He sat down on the edge of his bed, looking at the boy long and hard.
Regulus didn't mince words the way that Rabastan did, instead giving him a stern look. "Draco Alastair Malfoy, this is NOT the way you were raised. You weren't raised to speak to family, friends, with such disrespect, particularly your mother, and you certainly weren't raised to be a drunken fool." He took Draco's shoulders firmly under his hands, guiding him to a chair where he none too gently pushed him into it. "Now...sit down and listen for a moment. If you still want to throw your life away I assure you, I'll make sure you can crawl under any old rock you wish."
Stone cold sober, none of those things would be what Draco wanted, but such was the point of being ridiculously drunk. Then he didn't have to be anything at all and wouldn't care if he was a disappointment, wouldn't car e if he hurt, wouldn't care if he hurt others. But the remark about hurting his mother made drunken memory swim, one of the very few retained images that are often the only thing a drunk can get back after a bout. What he remembered made him angry and ill all at once and he bent over the edge of the chair, emptying his stomach before turning back to scream at Regulus and Rabastan.
“She wouldn't mind her own business, none of you will mind your own business, you know nothing about how I was raised or you'd support me!” he shouted. “Get out, get out, GET OUT!”
Rabastan was at a loss as to what to do. He was hardly one to ignore such blatant orders from the son of the woman that he loved, but on the other hand, he hardly wanted to leave Draco in such a state either. He looked to Regulus for guidance.
Luckily, Regulus, however, had no doubt as to which direction to go with the plan. Using his want to cause long ropes to bind Draco's furious form, he reached in his pocket, pulling out two vials, one that was supposed to make the process of becoming sober a bit more swift and less painful, and one of the Dreamless sleep potion.
"Regulus?" Rabastan asked softly, unsure of what Black was doing.
"It has to be done." Regulus insisted. "He's not listening and he won't listen when he's in such a state." He used his wand to deposit Draco's bound form on the bed, and all but forced the vials down his throat.
Draco blinked in disbelief a moment, as if unable to comprehend that anyone would tie him up. It was when he found himself levitated yet again that he finally reacted, vehemently and loudly. Screaming curses and insults as he thrashed the whole time before the potions were poured down his throat, he treated Regulus to a far more sober version of his drunken behaviour with his mother right before she had left and not come back.
However, there were certain things one could not resist and the inevitability of the potion he had been forced to consume was one of them. Unable to fight it any longer, his eyes closed and his body slackened, drawn into the peaceful sleep of the potion despite not likely deserving such a respite from his troubles.
Both of the still conscious men sighed when Draco succumbed to the potions and fell asleep. "Well..." Regulus said quietly, "That was...interesting."
Rabastan let out a soft laugh, unsure if they had truly done the right thing at all but there had been so few alternatives.
Leaving the door open a crack so that they could hear when Draco awoke, and after Regulus set up a charm that would alert them the moment anyone tried to leave the room, they left to find a house elf to go about the process of repairing the damage to the house and ridding it of alcohol.
Draco awoke slowly many hours later, aware of the staccato of drumbeats before anything else. Well, that sound and the pain enveloping his head. He shifted, sending sharp stabbing pains to his head and discovering his limbs were numb. No, not numb... bound.
Memory came back in fits and starts, forcing him to close his eyes against both the assault of things over the past two days as well as the pain growing the more aware he became of his situation. “Uggh.” Even the groan of dismay was uttered in a hoarse whisper. There was no chance of screaming for anyone, not if he wanted to keep his head from splitting in two. His wand was nowhere on his body that he could tell and there was no one in the room with him. He'd be outraged, except even the silent parts of outrage would still make his head throb.
He hadn't been this sober in two days, not since Daphne. That thought drew another groan from him, the reason for it far different than the others.
Rabastan was just making his rounds of the house, making certain that they had vanished every bit of alcohol and mess, when he peaked in Draco's room to check on him. Oh good, the boy was awake. He darted quickly back into the hall, motioning to Regulus to come quickly.
"Welcome back to the land of the living." Regulus observed wryly, moving to perch on the edge of the bed next to Draco. He held up a hand, as though anticipating protest. "You're going to have to stay bound for the moment, I'm afraid, Draco, as Rabastan and I need a few words with you before you go to get pissed again."
Rabastan took a couple of more cautious steps into the room, looking warily at Draco. He almost didn't know what to expect, whether Draco would be normal and analytical or still suffering under the alcohol's delusions.
"If you behave," Regulus continued, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small flask of liquor and another small vial. "I'll give you the choice when I untie you. Either I'll release you to run your life into the ground with the alcohol, or I'll give you something to help that headache I know you must be feeling just now. I can't MAKE you take this second chance, Draco, I can't save your future for you, but I know that I'll be pretty damned disappointed if you give up this chance at having the life that all of us want, having what you want as a young man rather than having to wait for a chance at normalcy like Rabastan here or losing the chance to even use your own name like me. Don't you understand how MUCH you have, boy? You have your mother, family, friends...a woman who adores you, youth, and the making of an empire...don't you understand what you're throwing away?"
Mustering as scathing a look as he could with his head pounding, Draco eyed both men with undisguised hostility. Traitors. Ask men to be in a wedding party and suddenly they though it gave them permission to do whatever they wanted. He barely listened, because he didn't want to hear it, hear any of it. Daphne was gone, gone of her own choice and there was nothing that could fix it. This was what he had wanted, after all.
“You're obviously behind in your gossip, Regulus, as I don't have any woman,” he said, disgust dripping in his otherwise hoarse voice. “She'd rather cozy up to Mudblood filth and raise children to do the same, she's rather leave then be a proper pureblood. As for family? My father's dead, I've single-handedly manged to make certain Mother never wishes to see me again,” he closed his eyes briefly, the appearance of suffering a wave of hangover pain, but that was not the pain that assaulted him in that moment, “and as far as friends, even trying to name them would be laughable. Untie me and go, I've no use for whatever kind of intervention this is. Leave me in peace.”
"Not yet, Draco..." Regulus's voice turned softer, like that of a trusted uncle or cousin...or perhaps even a friend. "Listen just a bit longer."
"Daphne had little choice but to leave...didn't she?" Rabastan asked, at a loss as to why Draco had said the things he had if he had been the one to end things. "You said that you didn't want to marry her, or that you wouldn't marry her..." he rubbed his temples, trying to get the facts straight after the long, stressful days. It was rather like some giant game, a Muggle game he had heard children at Hogwarts speak of once where you whispered a phrase to someone and they shared it with someone else and it got horribly skewed along the way.
"It doesn't matter." Regulus said firmly. "You know good and well, Draco Malfoy, that that woman loves you. Even if she said she'd rather do such nonsense, she LOVES you. Don't be fool enough to throw that away. A man doesn't get a chance to have someone like that everyday."
"She does." Rabastan agreed.
Draco shook his head fiercely, then regretted it a second later when the throbbing picked up intensity to near-blinding levels. “Both of you be damned, give me that hangover potion,” he hissed, then continued on while waiting for a reaction.
“She wanted a Mudblood in my wedding,” he spat, face contorted with disgust and his own hangover pain, “and more, felt our children might as well pair off with them! What kind of proper pureblood does and says things like that? Not like these families ruining their lines like the Abbotts and likely the Macmillans too if that stupid Hufflepuff continues on with that Mudblood whore of his – no, I mean proper pureblood families. I used to think she was one of them.”
He growled, as still no one had brought the potion within reach. “I never told her the wedding was off, I said I wouldn't show if she didn't come to her senses. She's the one who walked out and lied about all I said!”
"She didn't lie." Rabastan said firmly, feeling only the most minute sense of relief that Draco had not been fool enough to call of the wedding. "From what I'm told she was very sparse on her details of that day, insisting only that it had not been your fault and that things ended the way that they had. From what I've heard from Narcissa, she was in too bad of a state to differentiate between calling of the wedding and threatening not to show. She was devastated, Draco.." Truth be told, Rabastan was a bit mad on Daphne's behalf. He had grown to like the girl, to appreciate how good she was with Allyssa, even with Draco. He didn't like the thought of her hurting.
"Marriage is about compromises, Draco." Regulus said when Bastan paused. "The Abbott girl would have likely had to come to the wedding anyhow as the Minister's daughter, is it really worth losing Daphne over some small technicality such as where she stands or sits in the wedding? Besides, I doubt quite sincerely that she said that she would raise your children to love Muggles. Were I to place a wager, she probably said something typically female like she would love her children no matter who they loved and you flew off the deep end. Speaking from my own experience, you can say anything you want about how you will raise your children, but when they are alive and more than just a concept, it's another matter entirely. Were I to guess, I'd say that you both said things you don't mean, that you would take back if given the chance, that you were both quite foolish. You'd be a fool to let some stupid thing said int he middle of a fight end a relationship which has been good for the both of you."
Despite wanting to ignore anything said about Daphne, the comment about her being in a bad state did give him pause. He could imagine it, her refusing to leave her room, that damned dog curled up at her feet, ever loyal, and no doubt there would be crying. He couldn't abide it when she cried.
He cursed, fixing another glare on the two men, fiercer than before but not because of just his feelings toward them. Mostly, ti was an inward hatred. “Everything I said I meant. I'm a Malfoy, I'm not about to marry someone ready to pander to Mudblood-loving ideals. She couldn't accept that our heir will do the right thing for his name or he won't be our heir anymore and if that's how she feels, so be it.”
He lifted his chin, looking away. “She'll be better off and I'll find someone willing to do her duty as a pureblood wife. I don't need anything more in a wife than a good bloodline and the ability to keep her mouth shut when I make a decision about whatever children come in the far future.”
If he could have folded his arms over his chest at that point in an inaudible 'so there', he would have.
"Idiot child..." Regulus said something soft and then swore savagely. "Do you hear yourself? Those are the ideas that got me killed, those are the ideas that landed you on the run. We live in a new world now and we have to learn to accept it, like it or not."
Rabastan gave Regulus a sharp look, not sure that was the best course. "And what about when she does find someone new?" Rabastan asked softly. "Will that be alright with you, seeing her out with someone else? Seeing her dote on someone else's children? I think that Daphne likely said what she did at the mention of your child "not being your heir anymore.' I mean, look at how she treats that dog. He's ill behaved, he could do with more manners, he's exuberant, but he cares about her, and she cares about him." Perhaps one could draw more than one parallel between Draco and the dog than just the name. "She accepts him as he is, she doesn't ask for a better behaved dog, or get rid of him when he chews up the furniture. That's just the way she is."
"That's likely why she fell for you when you were a fugitive, fool boy." Regulus said a bit more harshly than he intended, remembering how his own wife had done the same for him when he was still little more than a dead man with only a new name to his credit. "Because she looked past YOUR shortcomings and cared for you anyhow. Salazar's beard, if you raise your children the right way there will be no danger of them WANTING to cuddle up with Muggles, is it worth jeopardizing happy years with a woman who loves you over something that might happen in the far far distant future? Because I think you're lying when you say that's all you want in a wife."
Draco's temper and possessiveness burned hotly at the idea of Daphne being with anyone else. Of course she wouldn't, if she wasn't with him, there was no one else for her! Yet, even as he thought it, images of another man preying on her while she was in a 'bad state' made him angrier and he struggled again against the bindings, cursing out both Regulus and Rabastan for leaving him like this.
As for the rest of what had been said, there was so much to argue and defend, but in true Draco Malfoy questionable-style, he zeroed in on one comment, one to attack back. “So my grandparents and your parents didn't raise their children the right way, did they?” he asked, raising an eyebrow then wincing at the pain a normally involuntary facial action shot to his head. “After all, my aunt and your brother cozied up to all sorts of filth.”
Rabastan laughed. He threw back his head and laughed soundly. "It's not that easy, Draco. Obviously they raised their children well as evidenced by your mother and Bellatrix and even Regulus...it's not an absolute, but most of the time children raised a certain way will follow that path, just as you have. But you can't give up your future on the what ifs. There's a chance every time you fly you could break your neck but you still learned to play Quidditch. There's a chance that when you give your ring and promise to a girl that you'll end up in a state just like this and yet you do it because you can't imagine your life without her." Rabastan paused, his gaze introspective for a moment.
Regulus sighed, reaching for his wand. "Think about it, Draco. Is this really worth seeing her hurt? Knowing that she's been crying? Knowing that one day she might find it in herself to move on and find someone who will always be her second best...is it worth it to see her settle? Is it worth it to see her raise children without you?"
Draco was not enjoying their games in his currently hangover state – not that he would have sober and unaffected, but right now it was even more frustrating to have one make an argument and then the other take that argument and twist it. He was tired of this, all of this, and wanted to be left alone, yet they kept on pressing him. Pressing on and on about Daphne being with someone else when it had been Daphne who had made the choice.
After all, it was how he had set it up to be when unexpectedly handed the chance, given the perfect reason to object to all of it
“As if the alternative is any better!” he snapped at them, then turned away. The words revealed too much. Suddenly furious at that too, one more thing to add to his growing list, he turned back and started yelling again.
“Untie me, untie me right now, untie me and give me my potion and get out of my house, or I'll have a damned house-elf evict you both!”
"Shush, Draco." Regulus said quickly, seizing on the words. "and what is the alternative that is so bad? You marrying her? Finding yourself stuck with a gorgeous woman who loves you for the rest of your life rather than the women without any sort of willpower that you were speaking of getting to bear your heirs? Yes, that is a fate worse than death, I assure you."
Rabastan gave him a disapproving look, not sure that he approved of Regulus's approach again. "It's just a ceremony, Draco, an affirmation of what you already feel. It's something meant to provide for her in the event that something happens to you, to allow her to provide you with heirs, to ensure you both of the other's fide..." his eyes narrowed. "is that the part of the alternative that's not any better? Are you worried that you'll find something better than Daphne?"
As though his fury continued to be given more space to grow, Draco was further incensed by Rabastan's last words. “Of course not, you bloody damned fool!” he shouted at him, glaring daggers at both men. He refused to discuss this, he had been trying to drown his real motivations in alcohol for two days and his splitting head be damned, he wanted them out of his house, out and away where he didn't have to listen to them along with the chorus of things in his own head.
“That's it, that does it, you're both idiots who don't understand a damned thing, get out now!” he yelled, calling for a house-elf in his next breath.
"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Regulus released the ties, laying the stoppered vial near Draco's head and returning the flask of liquor to a pocket in his robes. "I'm just saying, you both don't have to suffer like this...and she IS suffering Draco. She's trying to hold herself together and failing, from what I've been told. You're obviously at a loss yourself...you NEED each other, and you need to work through this together, not apart."
Rabastan nodded, though he was a bit more cautious after being shouted at. "You should go see her if nothing else, Draco. At least resolve the miscommunication over the status of the wedding."
Grasping for the vial, Draco downed the disgusting and cruelly foul potion the second he had the stopper off of it and then waved off the house-elf that had come at his summons. Even the potion didn't make him suddenly want to listen to Regulus and Rabastan, however.
“No, I won't, I won't!” he cried stubbornly, massaging his now-freed limbs. “If I do, she'll find some way to have a neatly-wrapped solution for everything, just like she did before, some way of making me think things aren't the way they are, and for some things there are no solutions!”
"So the correct alternative is to ignore her and lose her?" Regulus queried quietly. "Because that's what NOT going to her will get you. You have to make the decision, Draco, you have to decide if this is worth giving her up, if you'd rather make compromises and work on resolution or if it's wiser to give up. But I guarantee it, Draco, after having what I did with Carina's mother for so brief a time, you learn to take every moment that you can. If I could ever have another moment with a woman that I loved as much as I did...." His voice grew unsteady. "Well I'd take it under any circumstance, with any stipulations."
Rabastan gave Regulus a sympathetic look. "We aren't going to force you, Draco, your life is in your hands now, but as the ones who were going to stand at your side, we had to try to help. You're the only one that can make this decision. Either you love Daphne enough to risk it or you don't. If you don't you really don't have any business marrying her anyhow, but if you do...then you should go to her. Go before she assumes you're not going to come."
Neither of them were ever going to understand, not Regulus as he had never had to live openly with the taint on his name and his family, and not Rabastan as he and his mother seemed hell-bent on not caring about what society had to say on their relationship. But, dammit, he cared about those things for Daphne, and no matter how old their names were, no matter how prosperous he was, she and his children would always be lesser to people who were no better than dirt. And that he could not accept.
“I want you two out of my house,” he said, but it was more tired-sounding than angry growling now as he rubbed his face, sliding out of his bed. Now that he was aware of all around him, he was aware of how filthy and wretched he was, and in being granted flashes of memory from the past two days, knew he would be unable to go willingly back to that state of drunkenness.
Regulus and Rabastan looked at each other, then nodded. Likely Draco needed to sleep and eat and think on things, and really, they had said all that they could. Regulus set a few more potions, all very carefully labeled pain relievers, anti-nausea, and other potions meant to help with his hangover, then they both rose.
"The decision is yours." Regulus said, walking toward the door, "But I know you'll make the right one. I believe in you, Draco."
Rabastan went to clap the boy gently on the back, giving him a sympathetic look. "Think on it," he reiterated, before going to stand with Regulus.
For a moment, surprise flickered across Draco's face at Regulus' statement, but just as fast it was gone. It felt odd to be believed in by anyone right now, but there it was. With a last look at the two men, he disappeared into his bathroom.