All that Draco could hear was the clinking of cutlery against the china, accentuated by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner of the dining hall. His parents hadn't said a word to him or Luna since their return, when he had told him that they had eloped.

His father probably thought that he was irresponsible and reckless. His mother, on the other hand probably believed that Luna had been the one to orchestrate the whole thing. The truth was that he was sick of his parents' constant bickering over every tiny detail of the wedding plans, and he didn't feel like being the centre of attention for some grandiose event where he would only know a handful of people. During his school years, he had so desperately wanted the attention that Potter had scorned… but somehow when he grew up, that became less important. He had all the attention he wanted from his wife.

Eventually, Luna spoke up and suggested that they host a reception, so that everyone could still be involved in the celebration of their marriage. His mother gladly accepted, and had all ready started regaling Luna with ideas of the types of robes she should wear now that she didn't have to stick to white when his father interrupted and announced that a marriage into a family of people who belonged in St. Mungo's Incurable Ward was not something to be celebrated, before he threw his napkin down onto his plate and stormed out.