Chapter Twenty-eight.

It was in a Slytherin's nature to not trust anyone, unless they had been tested more than once and proved themselves to be worthy of such a burden. Draco was no different, which simply meant that his very first therapy appointment with Dr. Glendale was less than helpful. Dr. Glendale was one of those helpful types that had more patience that was necessary. It was obvious to Draco that he had been a Hufflepuff.

Out of the hour spent inside Dr. Glendale’s spacious office, over half of it was in silence.

"Draco, I want you to feel comfortable--" Dr. Glendale began, once it was clear that Draco wasn't about to instigate conversation on his own.

"Comfort is overrated," Draco interrupted with a drawl. He crossed his feet at his ankles, hand resting on the curve of his stomach, looking as though he was still in the waiting room, bored and growing impatient.

"Would you like to explain that comment?" Dr. Glendale asked, sounding curious.

"I have no desire to be here," Draco informed him, "but my husband insisted."

"Why do you think he wants you to see me?"

Draco grit his teeth in frustration. Then he sighed softly and began inspecting his nails. "My father had me tortured during the war. Surely you remember the Daily Prophet article? They had quite the heyday with that piece of information. Weasley thinks that my past with my father is still effecting me."

"Is it?" Dr. Glendale asked.

"My father is dead," Draco replied in a forced calm.

"Yes, I've heard." Dr. Glendale made no move to sound apologetic of this fact and Draco felt himself relaxing slightly because of this. "However, that didn't answer my question. Does your history with your father still bother you Draco?"

Draco finally met Dr. Glendale’s eyes. "What do you think?"

Some time later, Draco left his therapy session feeling more than a little confused. He agreed to meet up with Dr. Glendale again, in one week. Sighing, Draco made his way to the cafe in Diagon Alley that Ron was supposed to meet him at. Draco stepped through the doorway and, upon spotting the table Ron was sitting at; he really shouldn't have felt so shocked.

Draco slowly made his way over and, upon arriving, gave his husband's companion a dirty look. "Potter."

Harry barely glanced in his direction. "So, uh, Ron, the reason I stopped by here is to tell you something."

"Which you've been darting around for at least twenty minutes now," Ron commented, before leaning over and kissing Draco's cheek in a hello. Draco was a bit more satisfied when he saw that semi-jealous look flicker across Harry's face.

"I've been thinking about my relationships," Harry said, pausing when Draco snorted. "I can't seem to keep a stable one, not matter what kind of guy I try it with. So, maybe that's a sign."

"A sign...?" Ron asked, slowly.

"That I'm not really gay," Harry said, bluntly. Draco was thankful he had yet to order a drink. He would have choked, otherwise, due to his sudden laughter. Harry glared at him.

"Harry," Ron said softly, in a sympathetic and slightly condescending tone, "are you sure about this?"

"Yes," Harry said, defiantly. "I'm being perfectly honest. I'm turning heterosexual!"

A few people in the cafe glanced over at this and Draco had no doubt that it would be all over the Daily Prophet tomorrow. Ron was silent for a moment, his eyes searching out Draco's as though Draco would actually help him talk some sense into Harry. Draco rolled his eyes and smirked in his husband's direction. Ron sighed. "Harry, err, you haven't been with a girl since that date with Cho."

"So," Harry shrugged. "That shouldn't matter. Men and women aren't that different, Ron, they all want the exact same thing." Ron didn't bother to ask what that was; because he knew Harry would clarify after a lengthy pause. "That would be sex, by the way."

"Isn't that the problem with all the guys you've dated? That you've based the relationships on sex, I mean?" Ron asked, tentatively. Draco fought down a snort.

Harry looked uncomfortable for a moment. "That's what relationships are, Ron."

Draco felt Ron's hand grasp his own as Ron spoke. "No, it's not."

The table was getting too emotional for Draco's taste, who had the sudden urge to actually allow himself to cry. He wasn't going to, of course, and was thankful that the waitress chose that moment to come get their orders. Draco ordered an extremely large meal, which included both chicken and something that he thought had barbeque sauce in it, though he couldn't be sure. It had sounded good and that was all Draco needed to know.

"Aren't you afraid you're going to gain weight?" Harry smirked.

"I'm pregnant, Potter," Draco drawled, raising an eyebrow. "You might want to starve your unborn child if you ever are with child--heaven forbid--but I would prefer to see my child actually survive."

"Sheesh, touchy today, aren't we?" Harry asked.

"That is none of your concern," Draco snapped, before turning to glare at his husband. Ron's eyes widened and looked around wildly for a moment, trying to figure out what he did wrong. "I thought this was going to be a private lunch, Weasley."

"It was meant to, but...I ran into Harry while at the bookstore and he seemed really upset," Ron said, before dropping his voice to a whisper so Harry couldn't hear. "I thought he'd be gone by now."

"Wait," Draco stated, an amazed expression crossing his face, "you mean to tell me that Potter knows what a bookstore is?"

"Bugger off, Malfoy," Harry growled across the table. Harry stood up, adjusting his robes and raising his nose into the air. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date for this evening to prepare for."

"Oh? Who with?" Ron asked.

"Uh...I don't exactly remember her name," Harry mumbled.

"Lovely," Draco snorted. "You're attempts to be a heterosexual is starting out wonderfully, Potter."

"Oh, shut up," Harry ordered. At that moment their food arrived. Harry stared down at the mountain of food placed in front of Draco. "Well, I'll leave you to ruin your girlish figure. See you later, Ron."

As Harry left the building, Draco paused while bring a bite of his chicken to his mouth. "My figure isn't girlish."

"Of course not," Ron replied automatically. Draco frowned. "What?"

"You don't sound very convinced," Draco pointed out. "Don't tell me you actually agree with Potter!"

"Draco, you're figure is very manly," Ron informed him. "If it wasn't, I probably wouldn't be that attracted to you."

Draco couldn't deny that fact. Satisfied, Draco returned to his meal. Ron kept glancing at him, though, looking at his meal with a thoughtful expression. Draco sighed and set down his fork, turning to stare at his husband. "What, Weasley?"

"Umm," Ron bit his lip, "did you eat breakfast? It's just...that is a lot of food, even for someone that's pregnant."

"...No," Draco admitted, reaching for his water. Ron gave him a look of frustration. "I was a little busy obsessing over visiting the bloody mind analyzer, Ron. I wouldn't have been able to keep it all down."

"It's not healthy to just binge like this and you know it," Ron pointed out in a reasonable tone. Draco hated it when Ron was being reasonable. It made it difficult to argue with him.

Draco opened his mouth to give Ron some scathing remark, but a flash of black cloth outside the building caught his eye. Around him, wizards and witches let out squeaks and gasps of shock as someone in a long black cloak rushed back, shooting curses over his shoulder. Just behind him came a small woman with flowing red hair, who was yelling out even more cursing back at the man.

"Ron," Draco said, slowly, "that was your sister, right?"

"Yes," Ron whispered as he stood up and walked toward the window, peering through it and down the street, where flashes of red, blue, and other colors were signaling a battle. "That was my sister."

"And that man was dressed as a Death Eater...right?" Draco asked, stepping up next to Ron. Draco watched as Neville suddenly ran past, a look of anger and a promise of violence on his face. Draco shuddered and followed Neville's form down the street, where Neville dove into the fight with the man dressed as a Death Eater.

"Why would...?" Ron couldn't finish his sentence.

"It is just some idiot," Draco insisted, "who thinks it'll be funny to bring back fear for the Dark Lord. It doesn't mean anything. I hate Potter, but even I know Potter was good enough to defeat the bastard."

"Maybe we should help," Ron said suddenly, starting for the door.

"Bloody hell, no!" Draco snapped, grabbing Ron's arm.

"Draco, Ginny and Neville might need our help," Ron said to him, still moving toward the door. For not the first time since marrying him, Draco wished Ron was so big and muscular, otherwise Draco would actually be able to hold the man still instead of behind half-dragged across the smooth floor.

"I will not let you submerge yourself into silly Gryffindor tendencies that might end up getting your hurt," Draco growled.

They made it to the door and Ron opened it. Outside they could hear screaming and Ginny yelling something vulgar and rude. Ron paused, glancing back at Draco. He was obviously hesitating and, in the end, it was the brief glance down at Draco's barely visible pregnant stomach that made him stop moving and simply hover in the doorway.

"Thank you," Draco whispered, relieved. He'd had to deal with Ron's hero habits during the war, constantly watching as his lover managed to nearly get himself killed, time and time again. Whatever the idiot in the black robes was playing at, he wasn't about to go through all of that again as Ron played sidekick to Harry Potter.

A series of loud cracks filled the air and they turned to look outside just in time to see Ginny, Neville, and the want to be Death Eater disappearing. Ron and Draco slowly stepped back into the silent cafe. The other patrons were staring at the window still, faces pale and unsure. Draco slowly made it back to his table and sat down.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked, sliding into the seat next to his.

"Yes," Draco replied. "I'm just a little...shocked, is all."

"Want to go home?" Ron reached over and took Draco's hand, making Draco look up and meet his eyes. "We can take the rest of the day off, just you and me. I'll find out what happened with the Death Eater when Ginny gets off work, okay?"

Draco nodded. Home was a good place to be at the moment. In all honesty, Draco didn't want to know about the Death Eater. He felt he was better off in ignorant bliss. It wasn't his business. He was a Potions apprentice, not an Auror. It wasn't his problem to deal with.

Still, there was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he didn't think he would shake off anytime soon.

Waiting on next Chapter.