What Happened to Draco Malfoy

by ghostlynimbus

Summary:

Draco Malfoy has been missing since the end of the war. Harry has moved on, mostly.

But when, years later, Draco is found in an auror raid of an illegal omega trafficking ring both their lives are changed.

Thanks to Dragonlytherin This fic now has a Spanish translation: What Happened to Draco Malfoy—Traducción
And thanks to Enja455 This fic now has a Chinese translation: 【哈德授翻】What Happened to Draco Malfoy.

Notes:

• Translation into Español available: What Happened to Draco Malfoy—Traducción by Dragonlytherin

Chapter 1

Notes:

So this fic should be about 18 chapters and is mostly finished, if I've missed any tags or anything please let me know.

I'm going to be trying to update on fridays. Hope you enjoy.

Edit: Nearly six years after writing this fic I still occasionally get comments upset with me about certain things that happen in this fic. So a reminder. It is not my responsibility to moderate what you read. This fic is tagged appropriately. If you don't read the tags, that's not my fault. If you read the tags, and for some reason don't expect this fic to contain the things that it is tagged as having, that is not my fault. If you make baseless assumptions that a broad tag is only referring to one very specific example of what it could be, that is not my fault.
I am not your dad, I am not your manager. Moderate yourself and your experiences, I can not and will not do that for you.
If you need or want clarity on any possible content in this fic, you are totally welcome to ask (though I'll admit I haven't reread this in years so some questions may take a bit longer for a response if i need to read through things again). My socials are in my profile, so that I can respond without accidentally spoiling others.

Draco Malfoy has been missing since the end of the war.

Harry would be lying if he said he personally has made it a priority to look for him, he’s pretty sure only Malfoy’s parents can count themselves among that group.

But he isn’t exactly not looking for him either.

There are rumors of course, about what had happened to him, that he’d presented as an omega some time during the final battle and been spirited away by dark wizards or witches unknown, to be sold off to the highest bidder. Or that his parents had sent him away to the U.S. to avoid trial. There are also rumors that he’d presented as an alpha, and that he and Harry had fought to the death during the final battle, with Harry, obviously, being the victor.

He knows some of the rumors to be false, but... he doesn’t know if any of them have any truth to them, and he wonders. About Malfoy, about what had become of him.

No one really knows what happened to him, he supposes, except presumably whoever is involved in making him disappear and stay disappeared.

Still, during idle moments Harry will often find himself searching the news for that familiar name. At the presentation parties he is endlessly invited to, and sometimes attends just because he is tired of people complaining that he is still single, there is always some small part of him disappointed not to spot a certain blonde slytherin among those being presented to society as freshly minted, and available, omegas.

Which is just ridiculous really, because even if Malfoy had been found and even if he had presented as an omega and even if he wasn’t already bonded to someone, and that was an awful lot of if’s, it will have at least made the papers before the party. Probably.

But mostly he has moved on.

It’s not like he and Malfoy had ever been together, it’s not like prior to Malfoy’s disappearance he had ever even wanted to be with Malfoy, but still… he wonders.

When Harry finally gets news that Malfoy has been found it comes not from the Daily Prophet, or the Quibbler, or even from any of the high society gossips Harry is forced to socialize with at the presentation parties, but instead, surprisingly, from Ron.

Ron and Hermione had lived with Harry for a while after the war, but they had eventually moved on to a place of their own. The three of them still get together once a week for dinner though, and it is at one of these dinners that the subject comes up.

Ron arrives late, still in his auror robes and looking taxed. Harry is hosting this week, and when Ron arrives he is finishing up dinner and Hermione is reviewing some case files of hers.

Ron immediately goes to Hermione and sweeps her up in his arms, holding her tightly and burying his face in her hair.

Ron, who had entered the auror academy shortly after the war, had taken to being an auror like a fish to water, but there are still some things he has to see and deal with in the course of his job that make him question if he wants to keep doing it, and it seems that today has been one of those days.

Once Ron has been sufficiently calmed by his mate’s presence and reassurances, dinner is ready so they all settle in at the large wooden table in Harry’s kitchen to eat.

“Raid today. Illegal brothel.” Ron says eventually. “We found…”

He has to stop to clear his throat, and Hermione leans into his side in a comforting gesture.

“We found a lot of trafficked omegas.”

Omegas being bought and sold isn’t technically illegal, so long as it is under the pretense of bonding and dowries paid to the omega’s families. After all, an omega belongs to the head of their family until such a time as they are bonded, then they belong to the person they are bonded to.

Omega prostitutes, though, are extremely illegal. Unfortunately, they can also fetch a much higher price for their rarity and desirability. So it isn’t unheard of for this kind of thing to happen.

“The healers say that they should… should survive.”

Prostitution is a line of work that will kill an omega eventually, if nothing else does first. Being mounted by someone who isn’t their bonded mate would be physical and mental torture, as would being repeatedly marked and bonded.

There is only so much a person can take.

Ron is holding on to Hermione like he needs the reassurance that she is there and okay, and she is trying to comfort him with quiet murmurs.

Hermione is a beta, and she’s more than capable of holding her own in a fight if needed. But Harry can understand Ron, who is an alpha same as Harry, needing the reassurance that his mate is okay either way.

Instincts aren’t exactly logical things after all.

Harry feels like he is intruding on a personal moment watching them, so he turns his attention back to his food, even though his appetite is gone.

“Some… some of them are going to have to stay at St. Mungo’s.” Ron continues, eventually. “And there are some we still have to sort out bond wise.”

There would have to be trials, to determine the legal validity of any bonds any of the omegas were still under, but with a case like this the trials should be over quickly with the Ministry ruling them invalid and sending the omegas home to their families.

These omegas will likely always be considered “damaged goods”, and will likely never be able to make as good of matches as they otherwise would have, but... omegas are desirable and rare enough that their families will manage.

“But there’s one, even… even if his trial goes the way it should and his previous bond is deemed invalid, we’ve got nowhere to send him.” Ron says. “He only has one alpha relative, and he’s a known criminal so the ministry can’t release custody of an omega to him.”

Hermione frowns.

“Doesn’t the ministry have a program to help find suitable mates for omegas in cases like this?” Hermione asks.

“Yeah, but it’s all voluntary.” Ron says. “There’s loads of alphas happy to take on an orphaned omega, and some even willing to take one with a troubled past, but the problem is we doubt anyone who qualifies for the program will be interested in this one.”

“He’s… he’s in bad shape. Tons of marks. The healers were shocked he was still alive.” Ron says, adding as an afterthought “Must have been there for years.”

“If he doesn’t get any decent offers, I’ll take him.” Harry says. He hasn’t even consciously had the thought before it's already out of his mouth.

“What?” “Mate, no.” Hermione and Ron speak at the same time.

Harry shrugs.

“Why not? I haven’t found anyone I’m interested in elsewhere. I don’t mind about the marks, and it sounds like this guy could do with someone treating him kindly for once.” He didn’t plan to volunteer, but now that he has he thinks he rather likes the idea.

“Harry, when you kept turning people down I thought you just weren’t interested in settling down yet-” Hermione says, before Ron interrupts.

“You know I’m not supposed to name names in cases like these even with you guys but mate you can’t just agree to that sort of thing without even knowing who we’re talking about.” Ron says.

He knows Ron has a good point, but he’s kind of commited to this idea now.

“Does it matter? You guys know I’m not picky about gender and stuff.” Harry says. “And I think it’s safe to say at this point, that I’m never going to find the ‘one’ or whatever.”

“So why not help if I can?”

Ron makes a strangled kind of frustrated sound and gestures at Harry with a wild look at Hermione as if to say ‘help me talk some sense into him’.

Hermione just shrugs, which only seems to make Ron more frustrated.

“Fine. Fine, I know if I try to push this right now, you’re just going to dig your heels in and become more stubborn about this so fine.” Ron says, sounding exasperated. “Just- just promise me you won't officially agree to anything without finding out who it is first.”

“I feel bad for the guy, and I want him to find a place where he can recover, but it’ll do neither of you any good if you rush into this and then realize its not something you can actually deal with.” Ron says. And Harry feels sufficiently chastised for being so flippant about the matter.

“Okay, I won't rush into anything.” Harry says, and Ron sighs in relief. “But I do want to consider what I can do to help, whatever that is, so how do I go about finding out more?”

“Well Ron, you can talk about the available omegas with the alphas in the program can’t you? Harry hasn’t officially been approved yet but we all know he will be its just a matter of having to fill out a bit of parchment really. He far exceeds the program’s minimum requirements for housing, finances, and good standing. So maybe you could just tell him?” Hermione says, she frames it like this is all to make things go smoother and easier for the two of them, but they can both see her barely contained curiosity.

Ron thinks about it a moment. He’s certainly not opposed to bending or even breaking the rules on occasion, but maintaining the confidentiality of the people he helps in cases like these is more than just a rule to him, it’s something he considers very important.

“No matter the outcome, this information goes no further than here.” Ron says, seriously.

“Of course.” Hermione says, and Harry nods as well.

“It’s.. it’s Malfoy.” Ron says.

Hermione gasps. Ron keeps talking, but to Harry everything sounds far more distant than it did a moment ago.

“Maybe you could write a letter to put in his file, if you’re still insistent on helping somehow. That should help at least, with those that are hesitant about him having a dark mark and everything. You can still see it, I mean it’s faded and kind of mangled by scars, but it’s still there-”

“I’ll do it.” Harry says quietly, rushing into something he isn’t sure he can actually handle. He clears his throat and says again, louder. “I’ll take him.”

He doesn’t know why, but he just feels like this is something he needs to do.

Notes:

thank you for reading! kudos and comments appreciated.

please check out my profile for any links to other social media.

Chapter 2

Notes:

Thanks for all the comments, hope you continue to enjoy!

Hermione had been right. Getting approved for the program is a breeze. The ministry witch who is handling his application doesn’t even bother with the home inspection. She uses the interview, which is supposed to be used to confirm that he is of fit mind to take on and bond with a vulnerable omega, instead as an excuse to question why he is interested in going this route to getting a mate, when he has so many options.

She doesn’t seem to believe that he could possibly just be philanthropic, or that he may be harboring an old flame for his former classmate. She mentions her niece, a lovely young girl and newly presented omega, no less than ten times.

But he gets through it, and it seems to have been, in his case at least, merely a formality really. His application is already stamped and approved by the time the interview is over, much to the chagrin of the witch he’d been interviewing with.

After that, it’s only a matter of waiting until Malfoy’s trial.

Which proves more difficult then he expects.

Harry doesn’t work, he doesn’t really need to between his investments and savings, and the seemingly endless hours between being approved and Malfoy’s trial are the first time he really regrets that decision.

He tries to occupy his time with Teddy and home repairs, but Teddy’s a growing kid and only has so much time to spend with his godfather and Harry has already fixed up pretty much everything in Grimmauld Place over the last few years.

So he finds himself fixing things at Hermione and Ron’s instead.

They’re both so busy with their respective jobs, so there’s always something that’s not quite working right even in their small starter home, and Harry had found, after throwing himself into renovating Grimmauld Place after the war, that this sort of work relaxes him.

That’s not to say though, that things at Ron and Hermione’s are exactly tension free. Ron still doesn’t get why he’s doing this and Harry doesn’t know how to explain something he doesn’t really understand himself.

Hermione at least, seems not to question it.

Instead she hounds him with facts and advice and tips from the stack of books she had picked up about both dealing with omegas, and previously trafficked people.

On the one hand, he’s happy that she at least seems to be okay with his decision, on the other... their discussions on what Malfoy may or may not have been through do nothing to settle his fraying nerves.

Harry attends the trial.

He’s not required to, but at this point he’s desperate to see Malfoy for himself. To confirm with his own eyes that Malfoy really has been found, that he is okay. And though he knows that Malfoy may very well not even notice him in the crowd, he hates the thought of Malfoy having to face this alone.

Malfoy’s father is a convicted death eater. Though he had spent the years since the war seemingly doing nothing but accepting his sentence, Azkaban followed by parole, and searching for his son; convicted criminals of his level were not people the Ministry could release custody of, or information regarding, a vulnerable omega to.

Narcissa, as an omega, was allowed to stay in her home and with Lucius, as she had been his mate a long time prior to his conviction and there was no evidence to suggest that she needed to be removed for her safety, but as an omega she was no more able to take custody of her son then her son was to take custody of himself.

As far as Harry knows, Malfoy’s parents still haven’t even been informed that he had been found.

He’d have to remember to find out how Malfoy wants to handle that. He doesn’t exactly relish the thought of having Lucius and Narcissa over for tea, but if Malfoy wants a relationship with his parents Harry will do what he can manage to accommodate that.

Of the omegas who were found in the raid, all of those who currently have bonds, and who were deemed by healers to be fit for release, have their trials today. This is, Harry knows from his conversations with Ron and Hermione, to reduce the amount of times the raiding aurors have to testify, and to allow the omegas to take comfort in each other's presence while they wait for their turns.

Because of this the trials will likely take most of the day.

He had planned to try to stay calm. He had hoped that, if Malfoy did see him, that he could be some sort of comfort to him by remaining calm. But having to watch omega after omega being brought into the room to face whatever scumbag they are currently bonded to, the smell of their fear heavy in the room, has him practically clawing at the armrest on his chair before they even get to Malfoy’s case. He can hardly hear Hermione sitting next to him, trying to tell him to calm down.

Malfoy is bonded to some low level john. This man’s arrest isn’t exactly a big win for the department, but Harry still hopes he gets punished as much as possible.

When Malfoy enters the room, it feels as though all the breath has been knocked out of Harry’s lungs.

The Slytherin is almost unrecognizable.

His platinum blonde hair hangs limply around his face, and it looks as though it had been cut clumsily by hand. His eyes, when he briefly scans the room upon entering, look dull and whatever brief flicker of hope may have been there is gone by the time he drops his head again to stare at the floor.

He is wearing a button up shirt, a jacket, and trousers, same as the others, but Harry can still see some of the marks. They crawl up his neck, and he even seems to have some on his hands.

Harry feels sick. And as they continue with the trial, with Malfoy not once speaking or looking up again, he can feel fury burning in his throat.

Malfoy, who had always been such a proud git, looks so small and so broken, alone in a rickety looking chair before a crowd of strangers.

Harry wants to tear apart whoever is responsible.

--------------

Draco had tried. He had tried very very hard, not to hope. But so many of the others had come back to the room they had them waiting in crying about how such and such relative was out there, in the room where they were holding the trials, waiting for them.

He knows, he knows how dangerous it is to hope for things.

If this had happened when he was younger, he is sure he would have cried when he realized that his parents are decidedly not there. In fact the only people he recognizes in the crowd are Potter and Granger, and just the memory of the fury in Potter’s gaze as he looked at him makes him shiver.

There had been some part of him in his early time… away... that had hoped, desperately, that Potter would someday come and save him.

After all, it’s what Potter did.

But that stupid naive part of him had died years ago.

He spends the rest of the trial with his head down, and he doesn’t really hear anything that is said. The trials are really just a formality, the aurors had explained to them. Officially they have to happen, and the people on trial are entitled to face them. But the bonds are going to be deemed invalid, the evidence the aurors found in the raid too strong for anyone to squirrel their way out of a conviction.

Draco can’t particularly find it in himself to care. He probably couldn’t pick out who he is bonded to in a line up. Some of the others are struggling with their emotions though, and when he is led back to the waiting room he can hear them talking and crying about it.

On the one hand, they want to be free of this, free to seek out proper bonds, but by their nature their bonds make them, at least to some extent, want to stay bonded to whoever they are bonded to currently.

He wonders what will become of him now. What will become of him, an omega not legally able to care for himself, with the bond he is currently in deemed invalid, his masters all in prison, and his parents either unwilling or unable to come for him.

Where will he be sent from here?

Part of him kind of hopes it will be back to St Mungos. The thought of spending a lifetime in the small room they had assigned to him there isn’t exactly a pleasant one, but he knows there are far worse ways to live.

That seems unlikely though.

He’d serve no purpose locked away in his quiet white room, and why would anyone pay for that.

He’s not sure how much longer the trials take. The others don’t bother trying to speak with him, having already learned there is no point.

He picks at the hem on the shirt he had been given. He doesn’t let himself think more on what will become of him. Not thinking about anything is a talent for which he has a great deal of practice.

At some point, it seems the trials are over, and aurors start appearing to lead them off individually. The others mostly follow the aurors with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

Eventually he is the last one left.

It’s uncomfortably quiet now, and he does not know how long he waits there alone. It’s been a long time since time really had any meaning to him.

“Malfoy.”

It’s Weasley. He’s an auror now, which is weird to try and wrap his head around, and he had been there during the raid. Draco’s mind briefly remembers the shameful state he’d been found in, before skittering away from the painful thought. Weasley is standing in the doorway, and looking to Malfoy expectantly.

Draco drops his gaze but stands and goes to Weasley obediently. Weasley leads him out of the room and down a hallway.

“We have a program in place to find places for people in your position.” Weasley begins as they walk, all business. “Since you don’t have anyone who can claim you, the ministry has paired you up with a suitable alpha volunteer.”

Draco stomach turns. He has never had any choice in the alphas he’d been with, it doesn’t surprise him not to have a choice now, but belonging to a singular alpha had always gone worse for him then belonging to a group of masters who would make him work for his keep.

A singular master would grow frustrated with him quickly he is sure, and then where would he be sent?

Weasley stops abruptly in front of a door and takes a step closer to Draco. It is only a great deal of practice that keeps Draco from flinching when the alpha reaches towards him.

It seems auror training has done Weasley good though, because he seems to notice the fear even despite Draco’s restraint.

“Sorry.” He says in a hushed voice. He stops reaching towards Malfoy and instead holds up what is in his hand for Draco to see. It’s a small scrap of parchment.

“My floo address.” Weasley continues, in that same hushed voice that makes Draco feel sick. “If you need anything, call me.”

Weasley tucks the parchment into the pocket of the jacket Draco had been given. Draco nods, because he’s pretty sure that that is what Weasley wants him to do.

Weasley smells bonded. But alphas can have multiple bonds, and anyway it wouldn’t be the first time Draco has met an alpha just looking for a little bit on the side.

The thought of being Weasley’s ‘little bit on the side’ makes him feel a bit sick, just over the fact that it’s Weasley, but if he’s honest Weasley is young and fit and he’s been mounted by far worse.

When Weasley opens the door for him and he steps through to meet the alpha who has apparently volunteered to claim him though, suddenly Weasley doesn’t seem like all that bad of a prospect.

Potter stands in the middle of the small cluttered office, and he had clearly just been pacing before Weasley had opened the door. Potter’s eyes are wild as they sweep over him, before he turns his attention to Weasley.

Draco can practically feel the angry energy coming off of him.

And in that moment Draco realizes that he desperately does not want to be given to Potter.

“All good?” Potter asks Weasley.

“Yeah, everything’s in order.” Weasley says, striding over to the desk and digging around in the stacks for a moment before pulling out a folder. He hands the folder to Potter.

“You can use my floo so you don’t have to go through the lobby again.” Weasley says, nudging aside a squashy armchair with his hip to reveal a fireplace.

Potter looks relieved. Draco feels like he can’t breathe past the lump in his throat.

“Owl when you… when you get settled.” Weasley says, lighting a fire with his wand and handing Potter a sugar bowl full of floo powder.

“Will do. Thanks Ron.” Potter says. He pulls Draco close, surrounding Draco in his smell, and before Draco even has a chance to react, he’s been pulled through the floo and they are gone.

Notes:

Comments and kudos appreciated~!

Chapter 3

Notes:

Tags have been updated, I forgot some pretty important ones so might want to check (I don’t recall if I added them before or after last update).

Also not sure if I've mentioned this yet but Harry and Draco are both unreliable narrators and their perception of things (and each other) are not always accurate.

Trying a new formatting thing, lmk if there are any issues.

And this fic should update every Friday (PDT), provided im well enough to get on a computer to upload the chapter.

Thank you for reading and thank you so much for the reviews/kudos!

.::Harry::.

 

Harry is in a horrible mood. He’s in over his head. He knows it, Ron knows it, and if the look on Malfoy’s face when he reaches for him is anything to go by, Malfoy knows it too.

 

This is not going well.

 

After the trials were done with, he had exited the courtroom only to be bombarded by reporters. Somehow, someone had leaked that he was there and why. He had wanted to just shove them aside and leave, as was his general policy with reporters, but as Hermione had helpfully pointed out the victims and their families were still inside. If one of the reporters caught wind of who they were, they might “accidentally” reveal it in an article. Which would only serve to further damage the reputations of, and retraumatize, the victims.

 

So instead, Harry had led the reporters away. Indulging their questions with gritted teeth while the aurors and ministry staff had lead the victims and their families to other offices and exits.

 

He’s not sure how long he had stood there, answering the same questions just worded slightly differently again and again. Trying to explain why someone like him, with so many prospects, would decide to go this route to people who would never understand wanting to help someone just for the sake of helping them.

 

By the time the reporters were finally finally shooed away by the aurors and Ron took him back to his office, he had already had a splitting headache.

 

Ron went to go get Malfoy, and Harry tried not to worry about what Malfoy must have thought being left alone for all this time. He needed to get control over himself, and come up with a plan.

 

When the omega arrived at the office with Ron, Malfoy’s spirit seemed just as broken as it had at the trial. Aside from one quick sweep of the room upon entering, he had stared at his shoes. There was no snide comment about Ron’s tiny cluttered office, and Harry was confused to note that he missed it.

 

When Malfoy and him step through into the sitting room of Grimmauld Place, Malfoy stumbles slightly on the rug. Harry steadies him with the arm he still has around Malfoy’s shoulders, but he lets go and steps back once he is sure Malfoy is steady on his feet again. Malfoy’s shoulders had been boney and tense under his hands, and Harry can’t help but feel that they could both use a break.

 

“Kreacher” Harry calls, and a moment later the house elf appears with a pop.

 

“This is… Draco.” He says, hesitating for a moment before using his first name. Malfoy is his now, officially at least, so he supposes he should get used to being more familiar with him.

 

Kreacher, who had already been thoroughly briefed on the situation, seems like he might actually manage to keep his promise not to bother Draco too much upon his arrival, but his eyes still gleam with delight at the prospect of being able to serve a Black again, even if Draco doesn’t bear the name.

 

“Will you show Draco to his rooms, and get him any food or drink he wants. Then will you send up some headache potion and some tea to me in the study.” Harry says.

 

The elf bows.

 

Harry has to suppress a snort of laughter. Things between him and Kreacher had certainly improved since Harry had “avenged Master Regulus”, as Kreacher had put it, but he is certainly never this well behaved when it is just the two of them.

 

“Of course Master Harry, right away.” Kreacher says, nose still nearly touching the ground. He straightens and turns his attention to Malfoy. “Right this way Master Draco, Kreacher will show you.”

 

Draco seems uncomfortable, from what Harry can tell. He is staring at the floor again, shoulders still tense. Harry wants to say something, but he doesn’t know what to say and in the state he is in... he worries he’d say something that would make things worse somehow. So he just watches them go, Draco following Kreacher out of the room obediently, head still bowed, then sighs and make his way up to the study.

 

.::Draco::.

Getting Potter’s aged house elf to leave takes some doing. The rooms he leads Draco to include a bedroom and an ensuite, and are far nicer than any place Draco has been in years. The elf then insists on showing him around, from the wardrobe of clothes that had been chosen for him, and even how to work the taps on the massive tub in the bathroom. The odd old elf shows Draco the various bath products, and proudly tells Draco that he does all the shopping. He tells Draco to let him know if there is anything he needs, an idea which, to Draco, just sounds like asking for trouble.

 

No doubt if he does ask the elf for anything, this information would be reported back to Potter. Any inappropriate requests would surely be punished.

 

The elf also insists on getting Draco something to eat and drink before he leaves him, and insists that Draco decide what that should be.

 

This conversation alone is a headache in and of itself. Draco doesn’t know what is expected of him, what is allowed, and he knows better than to ask outright. But his attempts to talk around the issue, and not make a decision that could potentially land him in more trouble than he already feels he’s in, seem to serve only to frustrate both him and the elf.

 

Eventually the elf seems to at least gather that Draco is fishing for recommendations and they settle on a type of sandwich it seems Potter is fond of and some tea. The tea is nice, and the sandwiches are filling.

 

Draco doesn’t much care for pastrami personally, but food is food, and…  hopefully, if anyone gets in trouble for the selection it won’t be Draco, because he had just followed the elf’s recommendations.

 

Alone at last in the rooms that are apparently, at least for now, his, Draco finds himself drawn to the armchair near the window. His cooling tea and partially eaten sandwich sit on the desk, and he knows he should eat more while he can, in case he has to wait a while for his next meal, but if he eats too much too fast he will only be putting himself at risk of being sick.

 

He looks out of the tall window to see that under the fading light the house has a small and unruly back garden. The garden seems to have become overrun by children’s toys and play equipment. He curls up in the armchair, turning away from the yard to instead watch the gathering darkness in the sky.

 

He wonders if Potter has kids.

 

Potter doesn’t smell bonded, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been in the past, or that he hasn’t had children outside of a bond.

 

Or maybe he is bonded, and Draco is just reading things wrong.

 

Maybe Draco has spent too long among too many omegas who reek of far too many bonds, and he just doesn’t have a good sense of smell anymore.

 

Granger had certainly seemed close enough to Potter at the trial, whispering in his ear the whole time, her hand on his. Draco had not been able to tell what she was from across the crowded room, but she could be Harry’s mate.

 

And he remembers, Potter had always seemed close with Weasley’s sister back in school. Maybe she is Potter’s mate.

 

Draco, from what he remembers of them in school, is pretty sure neither of the women had presented as omegas, but then again, he hadn’t thought he would either. Stranger things had happened and... he doesn’t even know if that sort of thing matters to Potter. Lots of alphas prefer omegas, but he knows some don’t mind betas.

 

Potter could have a whole harem of mates, for all Draco knows. He certainly seems to have the money and standing for it, if that is what he wants.

 

The house seems pretty empty from what Draco can tell, it has the kind of stillness to it that well occupied homes do not have, but it could be that the rest of the family has just been sent away for the time being while Harry does… whatever the hell it is he is planning on doing with Draco.

 

He wonders if Potter will come to his rooms tonight.

 

If Potter wanted to fuck him, he would be far from the worst Draco had had, and if he wanted to hurt him… it wouldn’t be the first time a master or client had desired that… but... the anger he remembers seeing in Potter scares him.

 

Unable to handle that line of thinking any longer his mind wanders again. He wonders how many children Potter has, how old they are. He wonders if they look like Potter.

 

It’s a cute thought, a bunch of kids playing with the toys in the yard on a sunny afternoon, all with untamable black hair and brilliant green eyes just like their father. The bright happiness of the image that comes to his mind hurts to think about too much though.

 

Draco, much to the disappointment of former masters, has never been good around children. Despite being an omega, he has never been able to live up to the idea of a natural caretaker. He doesn’t have much in the way of experience, and they make him very nervous.

 

He doubts Potter will let him anywhere near his kids though. If Potter was looking for someone to look after them he surely would have chosen an omega who isn’t a former death eater.

 

He lets himself wonder again, why Potter has volunteered to take responsibility for him. What does he have planned? Draco shivers at the thought.

 

Potter clearly still hates him.

 

It’s fair, Draco thinks, he is a rather despicable person, but it doesn’t bode well for what Potter plans to do with him now that Draco is legally his.

 

Shoving his hands in his jacket pockets in an attempt to still the shaking, that he will not admit even to himself is definitely not from cold, his fingers brush against a slip of parchment.

 

Weasley’s floo address.

 

He wonders what has happened between the two of them. They had certainly had explosive fights in the past, he remembers they’d had quite the spectacular row in fourth year, but they always seemed to make up fairly well. Maybe it had something to do with Granger... Weasley and Potter are both alphas after all, of that he was sure, and if Granger had presented as an omega and they had both wanted her…

 

Draco weighs his options.

 

Going to Weasley is a risk. A big one. He’d have to sneak down to the sitting room to use the floo. And legally he is Potter’s now. Weasley is an auror, and Draco is pretty sure technically it would be his job to return Draco to Potter. Weasley had seemed genuine in his offer, but there is no way to be certain. And even if Weasley does help Draco escape the no doubt almighty wrath of the chosen one, he will definitely want something in return.

 

The only thing Draco has left to offer is his body and though he has definitely had worse, he still shudders at the thought of being mounted by Weasley.

 

Still though, is all of that… the risk and the... price... worth a chance of not facing whatever unknown thing Potter has planned for him?

 

Draco doesn’t like pain. He has made it his goal in life to avoid pain as much as possible. Which, until the raid, he hadn’t had much control over really, but…

 

Draco is also really really tired, so tired he can feel it in his bones.

 

If he goes to Weasley, even if he manages to escape, even if Weasley’s offer isn’t a trap, who knows how long he will have to service Weasley’s… interests... until the alpha feels sufficiently paid back for his aid.

 

Who knows what will become of him after Weasley grows bored of him.

 

At least with Potter, he knows that, probably, when Potter grows bored of punishing him... or whatever it is he plans to do with Draco... at least Potter will probably finish the job and Draco can be… done.

 

He really really wants to just be done with all of this. He is so tired.

Notes:

Thank you for reading, comments and kudos appreciated.

Chapter 4

Notes:

Thanks for all the comments! Hope you enjoy!

.::Draco::.

 

Draco awakes, hungry and stiff, still seated in the armchair by the window. There is soft morning light coming in through the window, and as he stretches and looks around he is disappointed to note that his leftovers had been cleared away sometime when he was asleep. In their place on the desk is a note. He picks it up, and recognizes Potter’s messy scrawl immediately.

 

“Draco,

 

I am sorry about last night. Please come find me downstairs when you are ready for breakfast.

 

-Harry”

 

Potter is an endless mystery.

 

Though he had done it twice the night before, it still strikes Draco as odd for Potter to use his first name, and the way the letter is signed makes Draco worry that perhaps he is supposed to refer to Potter as Harry now.

 

And then there is the actual content of the letter. So short and yet… what is Potter apologizing for? What counts as “ready for breakfast”? Is he expected to come straight downstairs upon waking? Or is he expected to be… presentable... first? What would Potter even consider as presentable?

 

Draco worries his bottom lip and looks to the wardrobe. Kreacher had said the clothes inside are for him. Does that mean he is supposed to choose his own outfit? What will happen if he chooses wrong? Is he supposed to bathe first? Is that why the house elf had insisted on showing him how to use the bath?

 

Draco hates not knowing what is expected of him.

 

If he knows what is expected of him, he can do it, and then things will go… smoother. He likes clear decisive orders. They are easier to follow. Masters that phrased things as requests and questions are far harder to please, in Draco’s experience.

 

Eventually he decides on a quick wash and a change of clothes. He desperately hopes it is the right decision, as he quickly goes through the motions.

 

‘Potter already hates me,’ he tries to remind himself, ‘I am going to get punished regardless’. But still, all his experience and training is yelling at him that he needs to make this alpha, his new master, happy.

 

He tries not to get caught up in the bath. The warm soapy water feels heavenly on his sore muscles and stiff joints, and the hair and skin products, which Kreacher had said he could use, are clearly nicer than anything he has used in a long time.

 

As he scrubs and massages his stiff muscles, he wonders how long is a long time. He tries not to think about it, usually, but he has no idea what year it is, or how old he is.

 

He’d tried to keep track of course, at first. There were a lot of things he had tried to keep track of, at first. But the days had melted into weeks, the weeks into months and the months into years. And it’s not like he’d been allowed to get the daily prophet.

 

Now, it’s all just a big messy blur, one that hurts to think about too much.

 

He shakes himself from that line of thought and continues with his cleaning. He does his best to be quick and thorough. Alphas don’t like to wait, but they also don’t tend to like if you still smell too much like your previous client, he had learned.

 

He had learned a lot of things.

 

Washed and dried and dressed, he stands before the full length mirror in his bedroom and, reluctantly, forces himself to look.

 

He doesn’t like what he sees, he never does, but he forces himself to keep looking. Checking to make sure that the clothes he had selected, a soft grey turtleneck and some black trousers, cover as many of the marks as possible.

 

It isn’t possible to cover all of them. He wishes he could wear some gloves, but not only had there been none in the wardrobe but he would look ridiculous and draw more attention to the issue if he did.

 

Some alphas seemed weirdly into the… dirtiness… of being with an omega with so many marks. And others seemed to be into pretending that that they were going to leave a mark that was somehow going to be more significant than the others. Most though, just tried to ignore it as best they could.

 

He had heard that the cost of marking a prostitute, even one with as many marks as him, was high, so clearly it was something they wanted enough not to care that he was already covered. Some of the others had said that, supposedly, marking the omegas made it felt better for the alpha. Draco figured it must be true, and only wished it had made anything feel better for him.

 

Sighing, and knowing his appearance is the best it is going to get, Draco steels himself to go look for his master.

 

Aside from the route from the sitting room to his rooms, Draco knows nothing about the layout of the rest of the house, and he hopes he will be able to find Potter before accidentally stumbling into somewhere he isn't supposed to be.

 

He needn’t have worried though, because as soon as he steps out of his bedroom Potter’s house elf appears beside him with a crack.

 

“Master Draco” the house elf says, ignoring Draco’s surprise at his sudden appearance, “Kreacher is to be showing you to the kitchens, this way.”

 

Without waiting for an answer, the house elf turns and makes his way to the stairs. Draco is grateful for it’s apparent indifference, as he continues to try to calm his racing heart. He has not been around house elves much lately, his masters had not owned any that he knew of, and the only ones he’d seen recently belonged to clients.

 

Clients he had to visit in their homes, or who brought their house elves along with them, tended not to be Draco’s favorites.

 

The kitchen is on the ground floor, near the back, and when Draco enters the room he allows himself one brief glance over Potter, seated at a long table in the kitchen drinking tea with a book in his hand, before dropping his gaze and assuming what he hopes is a sufficiently submissive stance.

 

Potter seems in a far better mood then he had been the day before, and the hesitant smile he directs at Draco makes something inside him twist painfully.

 

.::Harry::.

 

When Malfoy enters the kitchen, Harry is relieved to see he is already looking somewhat better than the night before. Not that one night could make all that much of a difference, Malfoy is still unhealthily skinny and looks tired beyond measure, but at least it looks like the bath in his room had agreed with him better then the cleaning spells at St Mungo's.

 

When his eyes briefly glance over to him, he hopes for the briefest of moments, but then Malfoy drops his gaze to the floor again.

 

Time, patience. All of Hermione’s books and Ron’s experience had said that these things would take time, he reminded himself. Malfoy probably has a lot to unlearn.

 

He stows his own feelings, this isn’t about him he reminds himself, and clears his throat.

 

“You hungry?” He asks.

 

He can’t see Draco’s eyes, his hair falling in his face hides them from view, but he can see Draco bite his lip. He seems to be debating his answer for some time before shrugging slightly.

 

Ron and Kreacher had both warned him that Draco doesn’t do well with questions but he had thought that that one would have been an easy one.

 

He had wanted to ask what Draco wanted for breakfast, but now that seemed like it would probably be too much. He puts down his book and stands.

 

Even though he is still looking down, Harry feels like he can feel Draco’s eyes on him. He clears his throat again, awkwardly.

 

“I was thinking of maybe making a fry up, that sound ok to you?” He asks, realizing a moment too late he had asked another question.

 

Draco hesitates again, looking uncomfortable, and Harry almost thinks he isn’t going to respond. But then he nods slightly.

 

Harry moves to the fridge to start pulling out what he will need, Kreacher makes his way off to the pantry to gather the rest. Draco stays awkwardly standing in the entryway.

 

“Go ahead and sit if you want to.” Harry says, not turning to look at him. “Do you have any allergies or food restrictions?”

 

Draco’s file, the one Ron had given him, had said he didn’t but best to check anyway. There are things that might not have made it into the ministry’s records, and it is possible things had changed.

 

“No.” Draco replies, after a moment.

 

It’s the first time he has heard Draco’s voice since before... probably since whenever he had seen him last during the final battle.

 

It’s a nice sound, though it kind of sounds like Draco isn’t used to talking much. Which matches with the notes from St Mungos.

 

‘Avoids talking and decision making as much as possible.’ ‘Antisocial’

 

He’d read Draco’s file in full last night. It hadn’t been pleasant. The information from before the war was pretty normal, school records, some medical records the ministry had retained for whatever reason, a few notes about different committees and boards his father had once been on.

 

Afterwards, it was all notes and forms from healers and aurors. Where and how he had been found, by who, what injuries he had had, the general state of his physical health, assessments by mind healers.

 

Harry forces himself to think of something else. He doesn’t want to get upset again and make Draco uncomfortable. They have a lot to deal with today as it is.

 

He glances behind him, and is pleased to note Draco has taken a seat at the table, opposite where Harry had been sitting. He catches, briefly, Draco staring at him with open curiosity before Draco notices his gaze and quickly lowers his head again.

 

“Do you have a question?” Harry asks, turning back to his cooking. “It’s okay if you do, you can ask. It’s fine.”

 

He finds that he very much wants to know what is on Draco’s mind.

 

Draco doesn't respond for a long time, and Harry again thinks that maybe he won’t.

 

“You- you have a house elf…” Draco starts, hesitantly. “And yet you cook?”

 

Harry snorts with laughter.

 

Draco sounds so worried that his question might offend Harry, and he doesn’t want to give him the wrong impression, so he hurries to respond.

 

“Yeah well, Kreacher makes very good sandwiches.” Harry says, glancing at the elf and hoping the praise will be enough for the next part not to offend him. He normally doesn’t care, but Harry doesn’t know how he will react to anything with Draco involved.

 

“But not a whole lot else.” Harry says, adding on hopefully “His talents lie outside of the kitchen.”

 

Kreacher seems satisfied with the addition and the praise for his sandwich making. He had gotten to make Draco a sandwich last night, and had been delighted by it. He’d told Harry, three times.

 

Harry glances at Draco, who looks thoughtful.

 

He looks far better like this, engaged with the world around him, then the shuttered dead eyed look he’d worn yesterday, Harry thinks to himself.

 

When the food is ready he tells Kreacher to make himself a plate, and then he plates up the rest and takes it to the table. He places an empty plate in front of Draco and one in front of his own spot.

 

“Go ahead and help yourself. If there’s anything you don’t want, you don’t have to eat it.” Harry says, with what he hopes is an encouraging smile. “I won't be offended in the slightest.”

 

Draco glances up at him, briefly, then nods slightly. He hesitates for a moment and starts to fill up his plate. He takes small portions, which Harry isn’t pleased with but doesn't comment on, and avoids the tomatoes but otherwise takes some of everything else.

 

Harry wonders if he doesn’t like tomatoes in general or just doesn’t like them when they are prepared like this. He wants to ask, but also... he doesn’t want to make Draco feel uncomfortable for showing a preference.

 

When given the choice of orange juice, water, milk, or tea; Draco hesitantly chooses orange juice. Harry lazily summons the juice from the fridge and a glass from the cupboard, and is unable to interpret the look in Draco’s eyes as he watches him from behind the hair that is once again covering his eyes.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated.

Chapter 5

Notes:

Hope you enjoy.

.::Harry::.

 

Harry is beyond nervous about his plans for the day. He knows what he needs to do, Ron and the healers had said that it was in Malfoy’s best interest to get it done with as soon as possible… but, he is still hesitant.

 

Marking Malfoy is a big step, and it seems kind of ridiculous to expect himself not to be nervous about it.

 

Omega’s can only handle being bonded so many times, what if Harry’s bond mark is the one that pushes him over the edge?

 

And- and this seems dumb even in his head, but Malfoy is far more experienced than him. What if he does something wrong? Messes something up? Embarrasses himself?

 

He isn’t even sure why he cares so much. Because really, all his worrying goes far beyond not wanting to cause someone pain, far beyond wanting to save someone. The fact is that he wants Malfoy, properly, as his mate in every sense of the word. He wants a bond with Malfoy like the one Hermione and Ron have.

 

He still has no idea why he wants Malfoy like this, but he desperately doesn’t want to screw this up.

 

Where should he even do it? Asking Malfoy back to his bedroom after breakfast seems far too forward but surely it would be weird to just do it right there at the kitchen table?

 

And where on Malfoy should he mark him? The shoulder and neck area is traditional, and Hermione had said it shouldn’t matter really, the bond would take regardless, but... he doesn’t know if Malfoy would prefer him to cover up one of the previous marks or try to find a place for a new one. Is there a way to ask that without offending?

 

In the end, he doesn’t even end up really making any of these decisions, not consciously at least, and just lets chance and his instincts guide him. He’s asked Draco to follow him upstairs, still trying to decide where to take him, when Draco trips on an errant rug in the hallway.

 

Harry catches him easily, reflexes having him reaching out even before he has consciously realized Draco is falling. The other man weighs so little, it is easy for Harry to pull him close to steady him, and once he is close…

 

The omega’s smell, up close and no longer hindered by whatever side effect of the cleaning spells they had used at St Mungo’s, is quite intoxicating.

 

Harry lets his instincts take over, and presses his lips to Draco’s. At first, Draco stiffens under him, his hands coming up to Harry’s chest almost as if he plans to push him away. This, Harry thinks, is probably a last ditch effort of self preservation of the bond Draco’s in currently, the one with the john.

 

Though the ministry had deemed it invalid, the only ways to actually end a bond are the death of either party, or replacing the bond with a new one.

 

Which is why it’s important that Harry bond with Draco as soon as possible, Draco will be uncomfortable otherwise, without his mate. He’ll pine for him, and Harry growls at the thought, jealousy, irrational though it is, coursing through him.

 

Draco relents then, to the press of Harry’s lips and body, relaxing in his hold, lips parting invitingly. Harry licks into his mouth, exploring. Lust and instincts and Draco’s sweet smell clouding his mind, he presses Draco against the wall of the hallway and kisses and kisses and kisses him.

 

Harry has never known kissing to be so good, he doesn’t have much experience... but still this is far above and beyond anything he had been expecting.

 

Instincts have Harry pulling away from Draco’s mouth, pressing messy open mouthed kisses along his jaw, below his ear, down his neck; pulling away the neck of Draco’s shirt as he goes. He may have torn it, he isn’t sure, but he doesn’t really care. He’d buy Draco another.

 

Draco is making the most delicious sounds now, muffled as they are by him biting at his own kiss swollen lip, and when Harry experimentally rolls his hips against Draco’s he is thrilled to feel an answering hardness pressing back against him.

 

Feeling a delighted, desperate, possessive noise rumble through his chest, Harry gives into the instinct to sink his teeth into the juncture where Draco’s neck meets his shoulder.

 

Draco whimpers, but Harry is so lost in the moment he hardly hears it.

 

He can feel the bond forming, tying Draco to him, can taste the blood on his tongue as he laves at the place where his teeth are still buried in Malfoy’s skin, he can feel Malfoy shivering under him as he continues to bite and claim and rut against him.

 

When he finally feels that the bond has formed and it is okay to release his hold on Draco’s neck, he licks and kisses at the wound till it stops bleeding. He continues as the skin begins to knit itself back together.

 

In this moment there is nothing that he wants more then to sweep his new mate up into his arms, carry him to his bedroom, and knot him.

 

But when he looks up from the wondrous sight that is his mark on Draco’s skin, it’s not to the equally lust blown and blissed out expression he expects.

 

Malfoy looks pained, and there are tear tracks running down his cheeks.

 

It feels like Harry’s been dropped into icy water, and now all he can feel is guilt and worry and panic, rising like bile in his throat.

.::Draco::.

 

It’s not fair. It is absolutely 100% positively not fair.

 

Draco has long since known that the world is not a fair place. If it was he would have been an alpha, like he was supposed to be, or even a beta like a majority of people were. If it was a fair world, he would not have presented suddenly and unexpectedly, and immediately gone into a painful heat, alone, unprepared, and in the middle of a battle.

 

If this was a fair world, a lot of things that had happened, would not have. So Draco knows that this is not a fair world. But this… this is on another level.

 

It isn’t enough cosmic punishment, it seemed, simply to give him legally to a Potter that still seems to hate him. It isn’t enough that Potter still smells like safety and comfort, as he had that night when he had saved Draco from the fiendfyre. It isn’t even enough that Potter’s physical advances cause Draco’s body to respond in ways that it hasn’t responded to anything outside of the haze of a heat in years.

 

Different bonds, bonds with different people feel different.

 

It isn’t something most people know, as a typical person would only have, at most, few bonds spread across a lifespan. But Draco, who has been bonded so many times in such a comparatively short amount of time, notices the differences.

 

His previous bond had been a dull grey, a touch of gossamer, barely there even when it had been formed.

 

But Potter’s bond... he can feel Potter’s bond thrumming through his veins and warming his skin.

 

Potter’s bond feels like coming home.

 

And it’s too much. Far far too much.

 

Because there is no way, can be no way, that anyone can want someone… something... like him the way that he wants Potter in this moment, least of all Potter.

 

Under his hands, which at some point had come to rest against Potter’s chest he feels Potter tense.

 

He forces himself to open his eyes, to look at Potter. He needs to know what kind of reaction Potter is having so that he can be prepared.

 

He expects anger. He’s not supposed to be acting this way, realizing with horror that he’s actually been crying.

 

But instead of anger, Potter looks horrified with himself, and Draco can practically feel his rising panic.

 

“It’s okay.” Draco says, voice shaking, unsure if he is trying to reassure Potter or himself. “Just… just a lot of feelings. I’ll be fine. I’m sorry.”

 

Potter’s brows knit together in confusion and worry, but he seems to accept what Draco had said anyway. Potter closes the space between them, holding Draco close.

 

Draco isn’t sure if the hug is meant to soothe him or Potter, but he leans into it anyway, letting himself be comforted by Potter’s solid presence and soothing smell. Just this once.

Notes:

Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated.

Chapter 6

Notes:

Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy!

.::Draco::.

 

The next morning, when Draco awakes to weak sunlight trying to make its way into his room past a cover of clouds, having fallen asleep in the armchair by the window in his room again, he tries to take stock of himself.

 

Physically, he feels okay. He’s been feeling a bit nauseous, and had barely managed any dinner last night much to the apparent concern of Potter, but the healers at St Mungo’s had warned them that this sort of thing is a very common side effect of stopping the potions their former masters had had them on.

 

His neck is sore, and if he focuses he can still feel the bond humming under his skin, but when he forces himself to check in the mirror he can tell the wound is already healing nicely. It will make a tidy mark, even though it was a rather deep bite.

 

Alpha’s have the ability to help heal the wounds they cause when claiming an omega by licking and kissing the wound. Not every alpha bothers with that though, and Draco has the messily healed scars to prove it. Potter’s though, with all the attention he had paid to it, will probably heal well.

 

Emotionally… Draco feels…

 

...

 

He doesn’t know how to finish that sentence. He moves on.

 

Aside from his loss of control during the actual bonding, he thinks he had managed to hold it together fairly well yesterday. But Potter is still maddeningly unclear about what he wants from Draco, and constantly feeling on edge had made Draco end the day exhausted and feeling worn out.

 

He had expected Potter to fuck him.

 

He had been grateful, at first, that Potter had allowed him some respite after marking him. He had clearly needed some time to get himself under control. But then the day had dragged on and though Potter hovered around, seeming worried, he hadn’t taken Draco to a bed, or fucked him anywhere else.

 

It seems, to Draco, that Potter hadn’t exactly planned on claiming him. Once whatever lust filled spell Potter had been under when he’d done it had broken, he must have been too disgusted with himself, and probably Draco too, to be interested in such things.

 

Draco tries not to let it worry him, tries to just be relieved. Why would he want that anyway? But it does worry him.

 

If sex isn’t what Potter wants from him, then what is?

 

Draco isn’t sure he has anything else to give.

 

Stomach still churning, from anxiety or the side effects of potion withdrawal, he makes himself go about the motions of getting washed up.

 

He debates what type of shirt to wear for as long as he dares. Potter has given no indication that he is supposed to be down for breakfast by a certain time but, he thinks, better not to risk it.

 

The problem is, he’s unsure if Potter would prefer he cover the mark that the alpha clearly regrets... or if he would take offense to Draco not showing it. There is no way to know and if he chooses wrong it will no doubt be bad for him.

 

Eventually he just closes his eyes and chooses whichever shirt feels the softest.

.::Harry::.

 

Harry had barely slept.

 

Draco had said he was okay, that he’d just been overwhelmed, but Harry still couldn’t shake the feeling that he had fucked up.

 

Monumentally.

 

He tried not to hover. He wanted to be there for Draco; almost needed to be close to him, help him in any way he needed, but... he also wanted Draco to have space if he needed it. He didn’t want to overwhelm him even more.

 

The problem is he doesn’t know where Draco is at, mentally, emotionally, because even though he did manage a few responses in addition to what he had said when Harry had panicked, getting him to answer even simple questions is still a chore. And even in those times when the reluctant omega did answer, Harry got the distinct impression that Draco was just saying whatever he thought Harry wanted to hear.

 

So Harry had spent the day trying to be there, but not too much, and worrying endlessly that he had irredeemably messed up. When he said good night to Draco, retiring to his rooms not because he actually thought he’d be able to sleep but because he had a headache and could tell he was getting irritable, the look Draco had given him as he said goodnight in return was, at least to Harry, unreadable.

 

Harry had spent the night worrying and horny beyond all belief in turns. Endlessly unsatisfied by his hand, and by the way he had left things with Draco.

 

He wishes it was just easier to talk to, or read, the man. But Harry finds him confusing and intimidating all at once.

 

Kreacher can tell as soon as Harry enters the kitchen that he is in a mood, and he makes sure to steer clear of the room and let him work through it himself.

 

By the time he is finishing up the food he feels calmer and like he has more of a handle on himself. The timing is good because not a moment later Draco enters the room. Harry can smell him the moment he does, and the smell has desire coiling in Harry’s abdomen.

 

Draco smells positively delicious, like always, and now he smells like he’s Harry’s. It’s a heady mixture.

 

“Good morning.” He manages, resolutely not looking at Draco as he finishes things up.

 

He takes a deep breath, plates the food, and heads to the table. He’s glad he gets the plates set down before he finally looks up at Draco, sure he’d have dropped something otherwise.

 

Standing there, nervously in the doorway, Draco has his head bowed so his hair covers his face and his hands are clasped nervously in front of him. The shirt he is wearing today does not have a high neck, like the one he had worn yesterday had had. In this shirt, Harry can easily see his mark on Draco’s neck.

 

He tries to move deliberately, so that Draco will know he is approaching, and steps over to the other man, his mate, his brain reminds helpfully.

 

He raises shaking hands, wanting to get a better look at the mark, but then hesitates.

 

“Is it okay if I…?” He asks, not sure how to word what he wants.

 

Draco swallows but gives a small nod, still not looking at Harry.

 

He moves slowly, gently brushing the pads of his fingertips against the raised flesh of his claiming mark. Draco shiveres at the touch, but doesn’t seem to be in any pain. The mark looks to be healing well, but it is likely still sensitive.

 

He really does not want Draco to be in any pain from something that, in Harry’s opinion, was so wonderful so he leans in and starts placing gentle kisses all over the mark. Draco trembles, but he tips his head to the side, baring his neck more for Harry. Harry supposes that means it’s okay.

 

He’s not sure how long they stand there, Harry’s mouth on Draco’s neck, but eventually Harry forces himself to step away. Flustered and incredibly hard though Harry is, Draco needs to eat he reminds himself.

 

Draco doesn’t talk while they eat, which Harry is coming to expect, but he does manage to eat more than he had at dinner, so Harry counts that as a win.

 

Notes:

Thank you for reading, comments and kudos appreciated.

Let me know if any of the formatting ever looks weird?
I have a lot of settings changed for when I view AO3 to make it more comfortable for me when im reading fic, but because of that I have actually no idea how things look when those settings aren't changed. xD so if anything looks odd or is difficult to read please let me know.

Chapter 7

Notes:

Thank you for your continued interest in my fic, hope you enjoy.

Edit: Thanks to some things posted in the comments I realized that this chapter needs some additional warnings then what I had added previously, so thank you all very much. The tags have been added and if you'd like more detail about the warning please see the end notes of this chapter.

.::Draco::.

 

It would seem that the soft shirt with the low collar had been the right decision. He had been so worried, especially when Potter had greeted him so tersely, but whatever frustration Potter had had with him had seemed to melt away the moment he spotted his mark on Draco’s neck.

 

Draco does not expect the kisses.

 

The mark is already healing well, they aren’t necessary, but he is not going to complain. Still so new, the mark is very sensitive, and having his alpha’s lips on the mark that ties Draco to him releases some stupid omega hormones that make Draco feel lighter than air.

 

Potter eventually pulls away for food, and Draco refuses to admit he misses the contact.

 

After breakfast though, it doesn’t take long for Draco to find himself pushed up against a wall again with Potter’s warm mouth latched on to his neck. Potter kisses him feverishly, his warm hands holding Draco close, as he rolls his hips against Draco in a grindingly slow pace. It makes Draco feel like he is burning from the inside out, and yet he is still, to his frustration, as shaky as a leaf in a winter wind.

 

When Draco is sure that soon he will embarrass himself and anger Potter by cumming in his pants like some stupid teenager, and is trying to come up with some plan to stop that from happening, Potter lets out a frustrated growl, his hips stilling and his lips pulling away from his claiming mark.

 

Draco tenses, sure he has done something wrong.

 

Potter presses his nose into the juncture of Draco’s neck and jaw and breathes in deeply, nuzzling Draco’s scent glands. It’s such a contradictory gesture to the one before, that Draco is left confused and anxious.

 

“Sorry.” Potter says, his voice kiss roughened and his lips brushing Draco’s neck as he speaks. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

 

What does he mean by that? Is he as confused by his hot and cold reactions regarding Draco as Draco is?

 

“What… what do you want to be doing?” Draco asks.

 

It’s too much, he knows better than to question alphas but he desperately wants to know what Potter wants from him. If he knows what he wants it will be easier not to get into trouble.

 

“You.”

 

It’s whispered against the skin of Draco’s neck but he hears it despite how muffled it is. Potter rocks his hips against Draco’s with a whine, just in case Draco had any doubts about what he means.

 

Oh.

 

Surely he can’t mean?

 

Potter had always been unfailingly awkward as a teenager when it came to romantic situations, and Draco had heard there was a rather disproportionate number of alphas in their generation (with many people blaming the war), but surely…

 

Potter could not be a virgin.

 

People would have no doubt been throwing themselves at him since the end of the war, and though Potter did seem the type to have old fashioned ideas about certain things… that didn’t explain what he was doing with Draco if that was the case…

 

Maybe he does have those kinds of ideas, but just decided Draco doesn’t count? Maybe he had decided that Draco could be thought of more as a… tool… to relieve some tension and get some experience in while he looks for the right mate?

 

Draco can understand that, he can work with this.

 

Most of Draco’s clients had wanted him to be as submissive and quiet as possible, but he’d heard from others about some clients who were nervous or inexperienced and wanted the omega to take charge till they built up the  courage to take charge themselves.

 

Tentatively, still scared he has somehow read this wrong, he reaches out to cup Potter’s face. His cheeks are rough with stubble and he seems surprised by the touch, but he complies easily with Draco’s gentle, cautious, encouragement for him to look up. When he does, Draco searches his face for a moment, before taking his chances and pressing his lips to Potter’s.

 

Potter whimpers, one hand flying up from where he had been gripping Draco’s hips to gently hold his face as he presses himself as fully as he can against Draco, kissing him back desperately.

 

Draco could get lost in a feeling like this, he thinks, but that’d be a very dangerous thing to do.

 

Testing the waters, Draco tries gently pushing Potter away, who immediately, if reluctantly, pulls away to look at Draco with pupils blown wide with lust.

 

“Where- “ Draco has to stop and clear his throat, “Where do you... want me?”

 

If Potter wants to fuck him right here in the hallway there isn’t really anything he can do about it, but he does rather hope that Potter might be convinced to move somewhere with a bit more accomodating furnishings.

 

It seems to take Potter a while to process what Draco had said, but when he does his eyes widen and he nods.

 

“Um yeah…” Potter says, still staring at Draco stupidly. “Yeah we should um…”

 

Potter seems to give up on talking, and instead leads Draco by the hand upstairs to a bedroom across the hall from the one Draco had been given.

 

This bedroom is smaller than his, he notes with some surprise. He had expected to have been given the smallest one. The bed in this room is big and looks far comfier than the floor of the hallway though, so Draco definitely can’t complain. He glances at Potter to find him standing by the closed door hesitantly.

 

Gathering what courage he can, he reminds himself that this is, he’s pretty sure, what his master wants. He moves in front of Potter and drops to his knees, shaky hands moving to the button and fly on Potter’s jeans. He makes quick work of undoing them. Potter watches him with lust filled eyes, and makes a strangled sound of relief and pleasure when Draco pulls his dick from his pants.

 

Fuck, Potter is big.

 

Alphas usually are, with omegas typically having the smallest cocks if they have them at all, but if Draco’s experience is to be trusted, Potter is on the high end of things, even for alphas.

 

Of course he is.

 

Draco pushes uncharitable thoughts about his own, embarrassingly omega, cock aside and sets to work mouthing and licking at Potter’s. Swallowing this one down will take some doing, and Draco needs to work up to the challenge without letting Potter get too bored or impatient.

 

But Draco’s not even managed to get halfway down when Potter is pulling at his hair insistently to pull him off. Potter encourages Draco to stand and he’s looking at Draco with desperate wild eyes.

 

“I- Draco that feels… amazing… brilliant,” Potter says, blushing a deep red “but- I’m… I’m not going to last if you keep that up and I… I want…”

 

Potter darts a glance at the bed. He doesn’t have to say it, Draco knows what he wants.

 

Potter’s an alpha, and if there’s one thing Draco knows about alphas it’s that they love to bury their knots in omegas.

 

“Okay.” Draco says, and Potter relaxes a bit at having been understood.

.::Harry::.

 

Draco barely gets undressed. Instead of taking off his trousers and pants like Harry had expected he chooses to simply undo them and shimmy until they’re midway down his thighs. He has more marks down here, on his hips and arse and disappearing down his legs. Harry wonders if this is why he doesn’t want to get undressed, wants to tell Draco that it’s okay, that he doesn’t mind the marks but...

 

But then Draco is climbing onto his bed, on his hands and knees and then pressing his face to the mattress giving Harry a wonderful view of his arse, and all thoughts of talking leave Harry’s head.

 

Merlin, he can see slick glistening around his entrance and sliding down one of his slender pale thighs.

 

He doesn’t bother getting more undressed either, and climbs onto the bed behind Draco.

 

“Do… do I need to… to... prep anything?” He makes himself ask, embarrassed.

 

Draco seems to be doing fine in the lubrication department, but the books Hermione had gotten him had said that sometimes after traumatic experiences an omega might need some extra preparation before sex, more like betas did, because their bodies might take some time to adjust back to being able to prepare themselves.

 

“No.” Draco says, and though his face is partially buried in Harry’s comforter and mostly covered by his hair, Harry can make out a blush on his cheeks and one of his grey eyes, watching him.

 

“Please” Draco begs, rocking his hips back towards Harry, and the last of Harry’s hesitation evaporates before the heat in Draco’s voice.

 

He kneels behind Draco, and lines himself up. He presses, experimentally, against the slick entrance a few times, still feeling as though this must be some dream, before he presses in.

 

Draco is slick and warm and so so tight. Harry continues pressing, and while his movement is eased by the generous amount of slick Draco is producing, he’s still so tight that it seems to take forever before Harry bottoms out, his hips pressed tightly against Draco.

 

He leans over, resting some of his weight on his arm on the bed beside Draco’s head, pressing his still shirt covered chest to Draco’s equally covered back. He just… needs a moment.

 

The slick and the heat and the knowledge that he is balls deep in Draco Malfoy, his mate, are all just a bit overwhelming, and he needs a moment to get a hold on himself.

 

Draco doesn’t seem to want to let him though, for after a few moments Draco starts pressing back against Harry with small rocks of his hips. Unable to form words at this point, Harry grips Draco’s hip with his hand to still him, growling in his ear and licking his claiming mark.

 

Draco shivers and stills.

 

Finally, after what feels to Harry like forever, he feels ready to move. He holds Draco still with his hand on his hip and pulls nearly all the way out before pushing back in. This time he slides more easily into Draco and Draco whimpers when he bottoms out again, hands clenching in the blanket beneath him.

 

Harry repeats the action, and finds it even easier this time. He tries to set up a rhythm of long slow thrusts, but his hips stutter ever time a whine or whimper manages to escape from Draco’s tightly clenched jaw.

 

Already feeling himself nearing the edge far too soon he leans in closer to Draco, pressing his nose against his scent glands and then mouthing at his claiming mark. Draco lets out a particularly loud whine and his hips strain against Harry’s grip.

 

Harry can feel his knot beginning to swell, and, worried he might get it stuck outside of Draco or hurt him on the way in, he switches to shallower faster thrusts, buried deep in Draco and barely pulling out before pushing back in.

 

Draco keens, and Harry gives up on trying to still his hips. He groans as Draco pushes back against him and he sinks even deeper.

 

They’re out of synch more often than they’re in synch, but Harry can feel a low pleased rumbling sound coming from his own chest at how eager his mate is behaving. Lost in the feelings, Harry gives into his instincts and pounds into Draco as much as he can, his still growing knot pulling at Draco’s rim before Harry slams back in as deep as he can go.

 

Mine, my mate, mine, is all he can think as he continues to mouth at his claiming mark before giving in to the urge to bite down on it again.

 

He can feel Malfoy’s orgasm overtake him as he buries his teeth in the mark, Malfoy tensing and trembling beneath him, pressing back against Harry, his body clenching and unclenching around Harry’s knot.

 

Harry sees white, and he’s sure he’s never cum so hard in his life, spilling deep inside Malfoy.

 

His hips twitch weakly afterwards, a pleased rumble going through his chest when he’s sure he’s well and truly stuck, his knot too swollen inside Draco to let him move.

 

Collapsing to the side, and careful to pull Draco with him so as not to hurt him where they are now tied together, he pulls Draco close, kissing his mark once more before succumbing to unconsciousness.

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed, I was extra nervous about this chapter ;;

Comments and kudos appreciated.

Edit: Additional Warnings - Dubious Consent !!Spoilers!!
This warning will apply to this chapter and to some future chapters. I initially didn't add it because I didn't think it applied but upon further thought (inspired by reviews) I have decided better safe then sorry. The situation is, basically, Draco doesn't at this time feel like he has a choice when it comes to sex, both of them are horrid communicators in this fic and (like Ron worried) Harry has no experience with dealing with this kind of trauma and hasn't realized that Draco feels that way. So that's where the dubious part comes in.

The good news is: if Draco realized the situation for what it is and wasn't currently in denial about what he wants, he would have (non-dubiously) agreed to it. I promise eventually they start communicating more effectively, but as a heads up it does take them a rather long time.

Chapter 8

Notes:

Thanks for continuing with this story! Hope you enjoy.

.::Draco::.

 

Living with Potter is odd.

 

It’s nothing like he expected that first night, and he still has questions. Endless questions, questions he knows he is not supposed to ask. But there are also a lot of… pleasant… things about living with Potter.

 

He doesn’t understand it, and he definitely doesn’t trust it, but… it’s not an entirely horrible experience, at least not yet.

 

He still has his own rooms, which he sleeps in every night, and aside from Kreacher, presumably for cleaning, no one goes into them but Draco. He gets a more than decent amount of food to eat, and he can tell Potter is trying to make foods that he will like.

 

He still doesn’t understand why Potter is treating him this way, but voicing such questions can only lead to trouble.

 

It’s been far from easy. Not knowing what is expected of him makes it far more likely that he will make mistakes, and Potter does get very angry on occasion when he breaks some rule or crosses some line he didn’t realize was there.

 

Draco always expects to get hit, or to receive some other punishment, something… but it doesn’t come. Potter takes some deep breaths, or excuses himself, and then he is calm again.

 

It makes Draco nervous.

 

He feels sure this is building up to something, and always feeling like something bad is bound to happen is exhausting.

 

Potter doesn’t seem to work, and he doesn’t seem to have any jobs planned out for Draco beyond fucking him at least once a day. Draco feels a bit at a loss as to what to do with himself. He can't remember how long its been since he has had so much free time.

 

Potter, eventually picking up on some of Draco’s unasked questions, or maybe just hoping to get him out of his rooms more, clarifies that Draco is welcome in any part of the house or gardens, except the attic, where Potter explains he still keeps some potentially dangerous items he doesn’t know what else to do with, and the bedroom on the right on the third floor. That bedroom isn’t the one Potter uses, he’s learned by now that Potter uses the smaller one across the hall from Draco.

 

Potter doesn’t explain that rule further though, and Draco doesn’t ask.

 

Sometimes, like that first morning in the kitchen, Potter notices him wondering about something and tells him to just ask the question on his mind. Sometimes, Draco does. Other times he makes up a question that he hopes is better than the one he had actually been wondering about.

 

One day, Potter notices him staring at some kids toys in the sitting room, wondering again why Potter has so many kids toys if he does not have kids, which at this point, he is fairly sure Potter does not. Potter encourages him to ask his question. Draco knows it isn’t a good idea, this could very easily be a sore subject, but he finds himself asking anyway.

 

“Do you have kids?”

 

“Ah no. No.” Potter says eyes widening and shaking his head, as if the very suggestion is shocking. He seems to actually notice what Draco had been looking at for the first time, and adds in to clarify. “I do have a godson though, Teddy. These are all his for when he visits.”

 

Draco doesn’t know how to feel about this information. He tucks it away and decides to think about it later.

 

He explores.

 

There’s a library, it’s not as big as the one in the manor but it is far more books than Draco has seen in all his time since Hogwarts. After catching him staring, but not touching, Potter lets him know he is allowed to read any of the books he wants.

 

He accepts the offer and reads in the library when he feels up for it, but he never takes any of the books out of the library; too worried they might somehow get damaged in his care.

 

He finds the study that Harry had mentioned, that first night. A couple of desks by large narrow windows, some more book shelves and an assortment of comfortable looking arm chairs and couches. This is the room Potter is in most, when he isn’t “accidentally” finding himself in whatever room Draco is in.

 

Except Draco’s rooms.

 

Potter has not once been in them since Draco has been here, and he isn’t sure if he is relieved or nervous about that.

 

Potter still fucks him plenty, but it’s always elsewhere, in Potter’s room or on a couch in the library, or once on the table in the kitchen. But if Draco goes into his rooms, Potter does not follow. It’s strange, and Draco doesn’t know how he feels about it.

 

He feels safe in his rooms, secure, but that security also feels false. He doesn’t want to trust it. He knows better than to trust it.

 

In his explorations he also finds a secondary sitting room, it’s smaller than the one they arrived in, and clearly sees far less use. Though, Kreacher obviously still cleans it. In it, on the wall, Draco finds a tapestry of the Black family tree. The tapestry is old and worn and has several large scorch marks, but it is still beautiful, and Draco can feel the magic thrumming through it’s threads as he approaches it.

 

It doesn’t take him long to find his mother. Linked to her is his father, and there growing from them is his name and portrait. He bites his lip as his hand hovers, quaking, above his mother’s portrait.

 

He’s too afraid to touch.

 

Kreacher’s voice from behind him startles him, though not as much as it would have a few days ago. For a rickety looking old thing, he sure can move quietly sometimes.

 

“Master Harry inherited the house from his godfather, Master Sirius.” The house elf says. He nods towards the tree where beneath one of the scorch marks Draco can just barely make out Sirius’ name.

 

“Master Harry is not the sort that my Mistress would like Kreacher to be serving…” The elf continues, sounding conflicted. “But he has treated Mistress’ house with… reasonable… respect and he… he helped Kreacher fulfil his Master Regulus’ final order.”

 

When Draco glances at the elf again he is alarmed to see that the thing looks like it might start crying. He follows the elf’s watery gaze to a name and portrait beside Sirius’ scorch mark.

 

Sirius’ brother it would seem, his portrait had not been burned off… but judging by the portrait he had also died quite young.

 

“Kreacher is of course, so pleased to be serving a proper Black again, Master Draco.” Kreacher says, seemingly recovered from whatever bought of sentimentality he had previously been suffering under.

 

As he leaves the room, Draco is almost sure he hears something about how Kreacher hopes Master Harry and Master Draco will get on with having some children to continue on the House of Black. But that is a whole lot of things he can’t deal with right now so, again, he files it away for later.

 

At dinner that night, while Harry is distracted by some letters he seems to need to deal with, Draco studies him.

 

Its honestly the first time he’s allowed himself a proper look, not just one meant to assess things important for immediate survival, like status and mood.

 

He’s grown, which shouldn’t really be surprising since the last time Draco saw him before his trial he’d been seventeen and only recently presented as an alpha. He is still a bit short for an alpha, but definitely still in that size range.

 

He’s also filled out well since the half starved teenager he’d been at seventeen. There is a casual strength to him, both physically and magically. Harry has often lifted Draco like he weighs nothing, and Draco has never met anyone who can perform wandless and wordless magic with such ease. Yet Potter almost doesn’t even seem aware that he is doing anything special when he does these things.

 

And there is a… kindness… in his eyes that some stupid part of Draco that evidently hasn’t been hurt enough yet wants to believe in.

 

And that isn’t even to bring up his smell, woodsmoke and clear night air, comfort and safety and freedom.

 

Draco had never wanted to be an omega. And he had certainly never wanted to present suddenly and painfully, alone, in the middle of a battle.

 

But... he thinks, in another life, one that had not been so cruel to either of them, that maybe Potter is the kind of alpha he might have actually wanted.

.::Harry::.

 

Over the next few days, Harry finds it hard to let Draco out of bed. He doesn’t want to overwhelm him, or make him feel like that’s all Harry cares about, but also Harry has literally never felt anything better than having Draco in his arms and his knot buried inside the blonde.

 

He tries to distract himself with trying to find out as much as he can about Draco, and it mostly works.

 

He finds that if he makes sure not to seem like he is looking, he can catch Draco looking at things other then the floor. The man is still clearly very uncomfortable with eye contact, but Harry is relieved that he seems, at least to some extent, interested in his surroundings.

 

He also finds that he is constantly surprised by the things he has to explicitly tell Draco. It seems that unless he is told he is allowed to do something, Draco will assume he is not. It makes sense, given what has happened to him, but it’s still something that is hard for Harry to wrap his head around.

 

Harry gets upset sometimes, not at Draco, but over the things he’s been through and at the people who have put him through all that. It scares Draco, which just makes Harry more upset because now he is the one causing Draco trouble and he needs to stop. He practices breathing techniques Ron teaches him, and it is usually enough to calm him down.

 

When it’s not, he makes sure to find somewhere else to be.

 

He tries not to follow Draco around the house too much. He doesn’t want to make him feel stalked or uncomfortable in any way, but he also always wants to be with Draco. He finds himself fascinated with the other man.

 

When Draco looks at something with longing or curiosity or even frustration, it makes Harry feel hopeful for the future. He’s still very very closed off, aside from when they’re fucking when he seems unable to hold things back as well as he is otherwise able to, but these moments make it clear that even though he mostly hides it, he still feels things about normal everyday stuff.

 

Harry looks forward to the day when Draco finally feels comfortable sharing and asserting these feelings again.

 

He debates with himself about how to handle things with Draco’s parents. He wants them to be able to rebuild their relationships if that is what Draco wants, but…

 

Draco hasn’t mentioned them, he barely talks still so it’s not exactly surprising… but it worries Harry.

 

Draco, and the calm they seem to have managed in their house, still feel so fragile to Harry. He wants to protect Draco. The urge is stronger then he anticipated, and he’s not sure what to do with all of this restless energy because really, despite what his instincts seem to think, there’s no one here for him to fight.  

 

He isn’t sure what Draco wants, and he doesn’t think he’d get a proper answer out of him even if he asks. He thinks that Draco tries to answer him honestly, but there is also so much he is holding back, and he’s so so cautious. Harry knows sometimes Draco just gives Harry the answer he thinks Harry wants to hear.

 

Eventually he decides to write to them, they at least should know that their son had been found and is safe, though whether or not they would agree that their son is safe with him he isn’t sure.

 

He’d test the waters, see where they are at, and if he feels it is going to be okay to do so, he’d let Draco know that he can write to them if he’d like.

 

That is enough for a start right?

 

He writes and rewrites the letter so many times he loses count, before eventually settling on:

 

“Dear Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy,

 

I am writing to inform you that your son was found recently in an auror raid. He was attended to by healers at St. Mungo's and will be fine. As Draco is an omega, it was necessary for him to be released into the custody of an alpha, and as Mr. Malfoy has been convicted of serious crimes the Ministry did not consider him eligible. As such, I have taken custody of him and have claimed him as my mate. He now resides with me in our home, and I am doing my utmost to take care of him.

 

I am unsure as of yet if I am comfortable with you contacting him directly, as he has been through a lot and may not be in the best state for it currently, but I felt that you at least ought to know he is safe while I consider the matter further.

 

The wards have been adjusted so that you may owl me, if you would like.

 

• Harry Potter”

 

He isn’t happy with it. It sounds stiff and awkward and far too formal for him to be comfortable with, but he knows he could sit here endlessly revising and never be happy with the result, so he sends it anyway.

 

The response arrives just before he’s going to start dinner.

 

“Dear Mr. Potter,

 

Thank you for writing us, we understand that you were under no obligation to do so but that you did anyway is immensely appreciated.

 

I hope you can understand, but my wife and I would very much like the chance to see and speak with our son. We understand that such things must now be done at your discretion and we wish to impress upon you that we will do whatever necessary to gain your approval of such.

 

I understand that given our history, and my past actions, you may be reluctant or unwilling to allow me to owl or visit, but I ask of you to still consider the possibility of my wife being allowed to do so, even if I am not.

 

We love our son dearly Mr. Potter, and it is our sincerest wish that, if he can not be returned home to us, that he at least be somewhere he can be safe and happy. If there is anything we need to or can do to ensure this, we will do it gladly.

 

-Lucius Malfoy.”

 

He reads it several times, feeling silly now for worrying about sounding too formal in his letter. He is both surprised, and not, by its contents. He’d known that the Malfoy’s were desperate to find their son, but he’d somewhat anticipated Lucius still being too proud for some of the things he’d said in the letter.

 

The request that he at least consider Narcissa being allowed to write and visit, even if Lucius is not allowed, is not something he had expected; and he doesn’t know how to interpret the slight wobble in the otherwise elegant script that appears exclusively in that part of the letter.

 

The last paragraph almost makes it sound like Harry is holding Draco for ransom, which is definitely not what is happening. Though, he tries to think of it as maybe a positive that at least if he was, the Malfoy’s care enough to pay.

 

He thinks it through while he cooks.

 

And when the food is ready, he reads the letter again while he eats. Draco doesn’t comment, he never does. Harry misses his snark and wit, but it is nice at times like these not to have to answer questions before he is ready. He is stalling though at this point, and he knows it, so eventually he forces himself to put the letter down and look at Draco.

 

Draco, seated across from Harry, as had become their new normal, quickly bows his head from where he had been looking at Harry a moment ago. Harry thinks he might be able to see a bit of a blush through the curtain of hair that is now blocking most of Draco’s face from view.

 

He wishes he’d just look up, he’d only ever seen Draco blushing like that through his curtain of hair while they were fucking and he was a little bit desperate for a better look.

 

Harry bites his lip, trying to push aside his arousal, and forces himself to focus instead on the matter at hand.

 

“I’ve written to your parents.” Harry says, indicating the letter he had been reading. Draco looks up at him eyes wide.

 

“They’d like to hear from you, and you are welcome to use my owl to contact them, though you are under no obligation to do so if for some reason you do not want to.”

 

It’s the first time that Draco has held eye contact with him this long, and there are so many emotions flashing underneath their grey surfaces... but Harry can’t decipher any of them.

 

The moment passes. Draco drops his gaze back to his plate, and simply nods in response. The rest of dinner passes quietly and Harry worries if he’s made the right choice.

 

Notes:

Thanks for reading! comments and kudos appreciated.

Chapter 9

Notes:

Thank you for reading, Hope you enjoy!

.::Harry::.

 

The next week passes much the same. It is quiet in their house, but he thinks… he hopes really… that Draco is becoming more comfortable. The only thing that’s different really, this week, is that Harry exchanges several letters with Draco’s parents.

 

He lets them know that Draco knows that, when he is ready for it, he is allowed to contact them but he also stresses that they are to wait for him to make that first move. They respect that, and have not once tried to owl Draco directly. Not that the house would have allowed that, the wards are still rather strong, but Harry would have been notified if an attempt was made regardless.

 

The letters from Lucius are overly formal, and generally short. He always makes sure to make it clear though, that they will do whatever Harry requires of them in order to secure the safety of their son. Harry tries to reassure the older alpha that Draco will be safe and well looked after with him regardless, but the message just does not seem to be getting through.

 

Narcissa’s letters on the other hand, are often long and filled with sentiment. She asks Harry to pass on her love in every single one and when she finds out Harry is struggling to get Draco to voice his opinions on things she fills her letters with suggestions about foods and books and even music that he, at least used to, like.

 

So throughout the week, Harry talks with Lucius and Narcissa far more than he has ever wanted to. And Draco does not.

 

If Draco does not want to talk to his parents yet, or ever, Harry won't force him. But there’s something in the expression on his face if he sees Harry reading a letter or the once when Harry catches him staring at his parent’s portraits on the tapestry in the little sitting room, that makes Harry think there’s something more complicated to this issue then he is understanding.

 

Eventually, one quiet night when they are tucked away in the library, Draco curled up in an armchair by the fire reading one of the books Harry had picked up on Narcissa’s suggestions, Harry can’t stand the curiosity any longer.

 

“I wondered if we could talk for a bit.” Harry says.

 

Draco, when he glances up from his book and scans over Harry briefly, looks worried. He drops his eyes to the floor, hair falling in front of his face, and shuts his book. He puts the book down on the end table almost reverently, always so cautious not to give Harry any reason to be displeased with him.

 

“Um… so,” Harry says, berating himself in Draco’s stead for sounding so dumb. “You haven’t been writing your parents.”

 

“You don’t have to, you’re not in trouble and I’m not… I’m not upset with you” he rushes to reassure when he notices the hands clenched in Draco’s lap begin to tremble. “I just… I kind of... wondered... why?”

 

“You always seemed… so close with them before…” Harry says, his nerves making him ramble on. “You don’t have to explain anything to me if you don’t want to, I just… I just wondered.”

 

He bites his lip to keep from saying any more. Malfoy stares down at the hands in his lap, not saying anything. Harry drops his own gaze to his lap and wonders if there will be any salvaging their evening of quiet companionship now that he has thoroughly put his foot in it.

 

“Why… why weren’t they at my trial?” Draco finally asks, his voice quiet and rough with disuse.

 

When Harry looks up at him, Draco is now looking at the fire, his hands still clenched in his lap, his eyes glassy, and there is such a look of pain on his face that it makes Harry’s heart ache.

 

“Someone… someone told me they were dead.” Draco continues, and Harry can see how much it had hurt Draco to be told that, to not have any way to verify it. “I- I didn’t want to believe them because… because people lie .”

 

“But then, everyone else’s family was there at the trials. Why weren’t they there?” Draco demands, and Harry would be proud if he wasn’t feeling so heartbroken.

 

“Are they that disappointed in me?” It’s said as barely a whisper, but in the quiet of the room Harry hears it anyway.

 

Harry doesn’t want to scare Draco, or make him more uncomfortable, but he needs to comfort him, somehow. So he finds himself kneeling before Draco’s armchair, trying to be as non threatening as possible as he covers Draco’s hands with his own, squeezing in a way he hopes is reassuring.

 

“Draco, no. They aren’t disappointed in you.” Harry says trying to put as much feeling into his voice as he can. Draco closes his eyes but does not pull away from Harry.

 

“I- I didn’t realize… Draco I’m so sorry I didn’t realize… I’d have talked to you about this sooner if I had known.” Harry says, wracked with guilt.

 

“I’m… I’m sure your parents would have been there if they’d known about it.” Harry continues. “They never stopped looking for you Draco.”

 

Draco takes a shuddery breath at this and Harry squeezes his hands again, wishing he could do more, wishing he could go back and tell Draco all of this right away.

 

“As an omega, the ministry could only release you into the care of an alpha. And your father… because of his criminal past… was not deemed eligible.” Harry says. “That’s how you wound up with me. I’d have told you this all from the start if I’d known that you didn’t know… I’m so sorry.”

 

Draco doesn’t respond, but he entwines his fingers slightly with Harry’s where their hands sit in his lap, and that is far more of a response then Harry expected.

 

Harry’s not sure how long they sit there like that, quietly, while Draco works to regain his composure. When his breathing has slowed and he doesn’t look quite so on the verge of breaking down again, Harry speaks.

 

“You are, of course, welcome to contact them yourself whenever you feel ready… but in the meantime, if you’d like, maybe it might help... to read the letters they’ve sent me?”

 

Draco looks up at him with wide, red rimmed, but studious eyes.

 

He chews his lip and seems to debate a moment before speaking.

 

“Why would you let me read your letters?” He asks.

 

Harry smiles at the suspicion in his voice and can’t help but reach up and place a hand on Draco’s surprisingly still tear free cheek fondly.

 

“They’re all about you, if you want them they’re yours.” He says.

 

Draco seems to debate with himself a moment before he nods.

 

Harry gives his hands one more squeeze before reluctantly pulling away and standing up.

 

“They’re in the study, I’ll go grab them for you.” He says.

.::Draco::.

 

The letters, unlike the books in the library, Draco takes back to his room. He has already behaved incredibly inappropriately tonight, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to maintain suitable control over his emotions while he reads these.

 

He’s not even sure if he wants to read them. He considers just putting them on the desk and leaving them till morning… but he knows that he won't be able to get any sleep from thinking about them.

 

There’s also some part of him that is scared to go to sleep, scared that when he wakes up this will all have been a part of some bizzare dream.

 

It wouldn’t be the first time where he had dreamed of hopeful things or happy news only to wake and find that the world was just as dreadful as it had been when he had fallen asleep. It always feels like losing something he had never even really had, and he hates that feeling.

 

Reading the letters is hard.

 

It hurts.

 

Maybe, partially, because they are in fact, still them. Just as he remembers, or nearly. His father’s pride is not so much as it once was, and they both sound… older, tireder in a way, like the years had worn on them. But at their cores they are the same as he remembers them.

 

But he... he is not the son they have been missing.

 

They don’t realize it yet, their letters are full of hope for their son’s return. They’ll learn, eventually, what he is, what he has done, the person he became.

 

The disappointment and resentment will come. They want their son back, and he died. He died a long time ago.

 

He reads and rereads the letters late into the night, tucked up in the armchair by the window. Sleep finally claims him as the stormy sky outside begins to lighten.

Notes:

So i know that generally the black family tree shows birth and death dates but for the sake of this au and to further angst it doesnt, just to clarify how Draco didn't know his parents were alive till Harry said he'd been writing to them.

Hope you enjoyed~ Thanks for reading.

Chapter 10

.::Harry::.

 

Draco misses breakfast the next morning. Harry worries at first, but Kreacher lets him know that Draco is just sleeping late. So he sets Draco’s food under a warming spell and tries not to worry anyway.

 

“Master Draco was awake very late last night.” Kreacher says, shooting Harry a disapproving frown. “Such things are not good for Master Draco’s health.”

 

“It’s not my fault Kreacher.” Harry says, catching on to the not so subtle blame in the house elf’s tone. “I never go in there you know, and it's not like I asked him to do anything that would keep him up all night.”

 

“Maybe Master Draco would be sleeping better if he were to be sleeping in his proper place.” Kreacher says pointedly.

 

“Kreacher, we’ve been over this before.” Harry says “I’m not going to make him sleep in the same room as me. If he wants to sleep in my room or if he wants to invite me into his, he is welcome to do so. But until he does so…”

 

“Have you told Master Draco he is allowed to be doing so?” Kreacher asks, interrupting.

 

Harry pauses, he hadn’t told him. He hadn’t thought it was something he’d need to say, but given all that he has had to explicitly give Draco permission for already…

 

“I... I hadn’t thought of that.” Harry says, and the elf doesn’t seem surprised. “I’ll… I’ll consider it. Thank you Kreacher.

 

Kreacher looks almost smug as he leaves the room to go about his day.

 

Harry drums his fingers against the table. Now is the point in his day where he’d usually try to find some excuse to be in whatever room Draco is in, but since Draco is still in his rooms and Harry has not yet been invited he will have to find something else to do.

 

He hasn’t seen as much of Ron and Hermione lately, he’d decided to put off their weekly dinners until he feels like Draco is more settled, which they had both understood, but they’ll both be at work this time of day.

 

Eventually, Harry settles down to read in the sitting room.

 

It’s a few hours later when he hears a commotion in the hall. He exits the sitting room to see Draco hopping around on one foot, the other grasped in his hand, a frustrated and pained expression on his face. It looks as though he has tripped somehow and hit his foot on one of the banisters.

 

He would wonder how Draco manages to be so clumsy, but Draco is still dressed in the, now very rumpled, clothes he had been wearing the night before, his hair is sleep tousled, and when he looks up and sees Harry there is panic in his eyes.

 

“Hey, it’s ok.” Harry says, moving closer, needing to comfort his mate. “What’s wrong?”

 

Draco drops his foot to the floor, his head dropping and he seems to shrink in on himself somewhat.

 

“I.. I’m sorry.” Draco says quietly, voice trembling. “I slept in so much... I didn’t mean to… I’m so sorry.”

 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s fine. No need to worry.” Harry says soothingly, as he reaches out and pulls Draco into a hug. Draco stiffens at first, but relaxes into the embrace a moment later. “I’m not angry with you, you’re not in trouble.”

 

After a moment of holding Draco and rubbing his back in what Harry hopes is a soothing gesture, Harry pulls back slightly. Just enough so that he can put a hand on Draco’s chin and gently turn his face up towards Harry. Even facing him, Draco looks down and away.

 

“Draco, you are allowed to sleep in however late you feel like.” Harry says, firmly, wanting Draco to understand.

 

“I mean… I missed you at breakfast,” he adds, nuzzling against Draco’s nose and cheek. “But as much as I love to spend time with you, sleep is important. You are allowed to sleep as much as you need.”

 

Draco doesn’t respond, but Harry isn’t expecting him to.

 

.::Draco::.

 

Just after lunchtime, breakfast for Draco, he is going to head to the library but Potter stops him.

 

“Draco,” Potter says, and the apprehension showing in his voice and face sets Draco on edge. “So um… I normally meet up with Ron and Hermione for dinner once a week. I haven’t lately, because I wanted to get things settled here a bit more first… but this week I was thinking I... would?”

 

“They’d be coming over here, and…”

 

He hopes Potter is just going to confine him to his rooms while he has his guests over. He doesn’t want to consider the possibility that Potter might want to share him, or trade him or something.

 

Such things had once been so common in his life, but his time ensconced here with only Potter have spoiled him and he does not want to go back to the way things had been before.

 

“If you want to eat with us, I’d love that, but if it’ll make you too uncomfortable you totally don’t have to. We’ll just be in the kitchen and the downstairs sitting room so... if you wanted you could just stay upstairs and Kreacher could bring you your dinner, but…” Potter pauses and Draco thinks he might be blushing. “But yeah, I don’t know... I’d like your company if you felt up for it?”

 

Draco doesn’t like being given choices. It’s weird, unnecessary, and carries with it the possibility of making the wrong choice. Potter gives him loads of choices, and its maddening because half the time even after he’s chosen he doesn’t know if he’s chosen right.

 

This time, it sounds like Potter wants him to choose to eat with them. But, on the other hand… staying out of the way in the, probably false, security of his room seems far safer… especially around Weasley. He still hasn’t figured out what the deal is between Weasley and Potter, and if there is conflict between the two alphas Draco doesn’t want to be anywhere near it.

 

And Granger, Granger is still a mystery. He has no idea what she had presented as, or how she would fit into all of this.

 

She had seemed pretty cozy with Potter at his trial though…

 

Draco nods, and Potter looks relieved.

 

“Great.” Potter says, and he kisses Draco on the forehead affectionately before heading off to the study, presumably to let Ron and Hermione know that their dinner plans are on.

 

Potter still makes no sense to Draco. He’d thought the man just wanted him as a placeholder, a doesn’t-really-count practice for when he found a proper mate, and it’s still the only explanation for Potter’s behavior that makes any sense to Draco… but there are… inconsistencies...

 

There really is no need for Harry to be treating him with so much… affection.

 

If he’s honest it worries him, an alpha that conflates satisfied lust with actual affection may lash out when situations require they realize the difference.

 

He chews his lip and resolves to try and figure out more, but... not right now. One daunting challenge at a time, and right now he needs to focus on the dinner he had so foolishly agreed to.

 

Potter turns him down when Draco asks him if he would like his help with anything, and tells him to just relax and go about his day.

 

It seems kind of a ridiculous notion, Draco is sure there is no way he will spend the afternoon anything but tense and anxious, worried about what is to come, and regretting his choices.

 

Draco goes back to his rooms, and rereads the letters from his parents. It does nothing to quell his anxiety... but it does pass the time.

 

Dinner time draws closer at a snail's pace.

 

Probably starting far too early he starts getting washed up. He’d been in such a rush when he’d realized he’d overslept this morning he hadn’t even changed clothes. And if he is honest, the time he spends in the bath every morning has become his favorite time of his day. He likes to lay there in the warmth and the suds and let himself forget he exists on this plane.

 

Draco doesn’t know what is expected of him appearance wise for the dinner. If his father had invited him to join him for a dinner party it would have meant formalwear; had it been his old masters, lingerie would have likely been the right choice. But Potter doesn’t seem the type to host formal dinner parties, and there had been no lingerie in the wardrobe of clothes that Draco had been provided with.

 

So casual clothes it is.

 

He debates about shirt collars for a moment, he wants to choose something with a high neck, wants to hide as much as possible… but he knows Potter likes it when he can see his mark.

 

He ends up going with one with a low neckline.

 

If anything does get… tense… he wants it clear who he belongs to. He doesn’t know why, but he suspects it probably has to do with Potter and his stupid smell.

 

How does one even smell like safety ? Draco certainly doesn’t know.

 

Potter’s in the kitchen when Draco goes back downstairs, cooking quite an absurd amount of food by the looks of it. He had said it would just be Granger and Weasley joining them hadn’t he?

 

Potter’s still in the clothes he had been wearing earlier, Draco notes, so casual clothes was probably a good choice.

 

He can see Potter’s eyes darken when he looks at Draco, even from his spot near the doorway, and he shifts nervously. They hadn’t fucked today,  and Draco wonders if it might have been smarter not to spend the whole afternoon in his rooms.

 

The moment passes though, and Potter smiles at him warmly.

 

Draco ignores the way his heart trips over itself at the sight.

Chapter 11

Notes:

Thanks for all the responses to the last chapter, it's so appreciated!

There are some schedule notes in the end note so please be sure to check that out.

.::Harry::.

 

Harry hadn’t realized just how much Draco has been improving until Ron and Hermione arrive. It’s not that he’s exactly bursting with confidence when it’s just the two of them… but he is definitely doing better.

 

When Ron and Hermione arrive through the floo though, it’s back to staring at the floor and taking up as little space as possible. Harry greets his friends with familiarity and warm hugs, and Draco stands back in silence. Harry doesn’t miss the way Draco leans ever so slightly closer to him afterwards, though he doesn’t know what it means.

 

“Draco, it’s so good to see you.” Hermione greets the omega with a warm smile, but Harry doesn’t miss the way her eyes flash curiously over the visible marks on Draco’s neck and hands, and he’s sure Draco doesn’t either.

 

Draco hesitates then manages a quiet response.

 

“You as well.” His tone isn’t hostile or derisive, like some part of Harry had been slightly worried it might be, but he is clearly uncomfortable.

 

Harry’s not sure if it’s just that he’s still uncomfortable talking in general, or if it’s also that he’s specifically uncomfortable talking to Hermione.  

 

“Draco,” Ron greets, eyes scanning over him. “You look well.”

 

Draco hesitates again, but to this he only nods slightly.

 

The food is already ready, and set out on the table, so Harry sits, and pulls Draco down into the spot on the bench next to him. He figures they’ll all be more comfortable sitting next to their mates, and if the way Draco subtly leans into the arm Harry leaves wrapped around his waist is any indication, it was the right decision.

 

Dinner passes much like countless other dinners with Ron and Hermione before... except... Draco is there too, which is... different.

 

Draco doesn’t participate in the conversations, which mostly revolve around what’s been going on with Ron and Hermione’s jobs, and what’s been going on with the rest of their friends and family, and a bit about what Harry’s been up to. Ron and Hermione do try a few times to engage Draco in the conversations, but his replies, if he gives them, are short and don’t encourage further discussion.

 

Instead he eats quietly, tucked up close to Harry’s side, and when Harry sneaks a glance at him he can’t help but smile, overcome by affection for his mate.

 

Draco tenses any time anyone asks him something, and he only responds verbally if he can’t answer with a shrug or a nod, but it’s worse if it’s Ron who is addressing him. Harry figures it may be because Ron’s an alpha and Hermione is not... but he resolves to ask Draco about it later. For now he lets his fingers brush reassuringly against Draco’s bond mark whenever he feels Draco getting too tense beside him and he hopes it’s enough.

 

After dinner, they retire to the sitting room. Draco sticks close to him in the hallway, and Harry doesn’t think it’s as unintentional as Draco pretends when their arms brush. He briefly catches Draco’s hand during one of these passes and gives it a quick squeeze. He thinks he sees a bit of a blush peeking out from beneath Draco’s hair.

 

Harry hadn’t planned to have Draco sit with him in the sitting room, Draco prefers the armchair nearest the window and he hadn’t seen any reason why he shouldn’t sit there before, but once he’s seated on the couch he notices the distance between where he’s sitting and the armchair... and Draco’s hesitation.

 

He pulls Draco down to sit next to him, and like at dinner he leaves one arm wrapped around him casually.  

 

Draco seems ever so slightly relieved, and Harry is glad he made the right choice.

 

They talk for a while, about this and that, and eventually Hermione brings up some bit in a book she’s having difficulty with. She sends Harry a pointed look. Harry, trying to figure out what it is that look is supposed to tell him, realizes the book she is talking about is one of the ones Narcissa had mentioned, and that he’d asked Hermione’s help in ordering, and he gets the hint.

 

Harry hadn’t mentioned to Ron and Hermione yet that he’d given Draco the letters from his parents, and he hopes Draco doesn’t mind the obvious ploy too much.

 

“Isn’t that one you’ve been reading Draco?” Harry asks. He brushes his fingertips over the bond mark.

 

Draco swallows at Harry’s question, and he looks up at Harry briefly, searching his expression. Harry tries to look reassuring, and apologetic. Draco lowers his gaze again and nods. Harry expects that to be it but...

 

“Yes. I’ve read it before... but I’ve… I’ve been rereading it lately.” Draco says, quietly.

 

“Oh really?” Hermione says. “Because I’m on chapter eight and I don’t really understand….”

 

Harry doesn’t follow the rest of the conversation, but Draco manages several multi word responses, and Harry is so proud of him.

 

When he can feel Draco growing overwhelmed, Harry steers the conversation elsewhere. Draco relaxes into Harry’s arm gratefully as the focus shifts away from him, and Harry lets his fingertips drift from Draco’s neck into his hair.

 

Even sitting right next to him Harry barely hears Draco’s little relieved sigh.

 

Before Draco had come back into his life, Harry wouldn’t have minded how late Ron and Hermione stayed, he’s always been happy to catch up with them as long as their schedules would allow, but now....

 

As much as he loves seeing them, he looks forward to their leaving.

 

A few hours later sees them headed home through the floo, and once they are gone he pulls Draco into a kiss. Draco’s lips are soft beneath his, and he responds with the same slow pace as Harry uses.

 

Pulling away from the kiss, Harry leans his forehead against Draco’s. Draco has his eyes closed, and he looks so beautiful Harry nearly can’t stand it.

 

“You did so good today.” He says, and he hopes Draco knows he means it. “How are you feeling?”

 

Draco takes a deep shuddery breath, and shrugs. Harry’s worried that’s all he’s going to get.

 

“I don’t know.” Draco says. “Glad I didn’t mess things up?”

 

He says the last bit like it’s a question, so Harry responds as though it is.

 

“You didn’t. You did so good, I’m so proud of you.” Harry responds, placing light kisses to the tip of Draco’s nose and his forehead and cheeks. “I know it was difficult, but you managed so well.”

 

Draco seems relieved. Harry presses a kiss to his lips again.

.::Draco::.

 

Potter takes him up to his room after Granger and Weasley leave. Draco’s expecting it, and he’s kind of relieved.

 

This, he knows. This, he understands.

 

Potter presses him against the back of the door and kisses him with the hunger of a starving man. Draco lets himself get lost in the feelings, the instincts, this moment.

 

And then Potter drops to his knees before him, undoes his trousers and is mouthing at his cock through his pants and for a moment Draco’s brain stutters to a stop.

 

“What- what are you doing?” He manages to ask.

 

“Mm.. gonna blow you.” Potter says nuzzling and mouthing at Draco’s erection through the fabric of his underpants.

 

Draco bites his lip to try to suppress a whimper as Potter pulls his pants down and presses his nose into Draco’s crotch, breathing deeply.

 

“W-why?” Draco asks.

 

“Wanna reward you, for trying so hard tonight and doing so good.” Draco shudders, somehow the knowledge that this is a reward because Potter thought he’d done well makes it all the hotter.

 

Alphas don’t do stuff like this, Draco has never…

 

“Mmm w-wait-” Draco manages. He doesn’t want to stop Potter, hates himself a little for saying what he’s said already.

 

Potter stops, and turns concerned eyes on Draco. He waits for him to continue.

 

“I…” Draco clears his throat, he can feel the blush burning on his face and down to his chest, “I want your- your knot.”

 

“If thats ok.” He adds on nervously.

 

He wants this too… the mere idea of Potter’s mouth on him threatens to pull an embarrassing moan from him… but tonight…

 

Merlin, tonight he needs some reassurance.

 

Weasley’s calculating looks all night had made him feel so on edge and even though Granger is a beta he’d felt so unbearably jealous whenever Potter so much as smiled at her.

 

So, tonight he really, really, just wants some reassurance.

 

Reassurance that, for now at least, he is Potter’s and Potter is his .

 

Draco wants to savour this, for whatever time he has left, before Potter gets another mate, a proper mate, before Potter sends him away, before something comes along like he knows it will and messes up this somewhat kind of pleasant existence he has right now.

 

And the best way to reassure himself of that right now, is to have Potter’s knot buried inside him and his mouth on Draco’s bond mark.

 

Potter stands, taking Draco’s hands in his and bringing one up to his mouth to kiss the palm.

 

“Of course. Anything you want.” He says, like it’s nothing, and Draco supposes, for him it probably is.

 

Draco pushes aside bitter thoughts about not making promises you don’t intend to keep, and leans up to kiss Potter.

 

Potter groans into the kiss, he always seems to love it when Draco initiates kisses, and he pulls Draco with him over to the bed.

 

He lays Draco down on his back and climbs on top of him, his hand on Draco’s hips, his knee between Draco’s legs and his lips on Draco’s neck. Draco covers his mouth with his hand, hoping to muffle the sounds threatening to escape him as Potter grinds his thigh against Draco’s aching erection.

 

“Is… would it be okay if we stayed facing each other?” Potter asks, breathless from kissing Draco’s neck. “I think we’ll need to take your trousers off completely… and if you don’t want to we don't have to-”

 

“Yeah. It’s fine.” Draco says.

 

He doesn’t want Potter to see his legs, would prefer to be as covered as possible, but…

 

It’d be far easier to look at Potter this way, and Potter naked and fucking him is a sight that Draco can’t seem to get enough of.

Potter rumbles happily and presses his nose into Draco’s neck.

 

“Thank you” he murmurs breathing in Draco’s smell deeply.

 

Potter sits back and makes quick work of Draco’s pants and trousers, and undresses himself as well, kicking and throwing their clothes to the floor.

 

Leaning forward onto his arm again, Potter’s fingers dance just under the hem of Draco’s shirt, and Draco’s nearly ready to agree to that too if it’ll get Potter to just fuck him already, but Potter doesn’t ask.

 

Instead, his hand drops lower, ghosting over Draco’s inner thigh before pressing a finger tentatively against Draco’s entrance. Potter groans into Draco’s neck and he can see Potter’s hips shift above him.

 

“Merlin Draco.” Potter says face still pressed against Draco’s neck and voice coming out rough with desire. “You’re so good, all ready for me.”

Draco whimpers into the hand he still has pressed to his mouth and his hips twitch.

 

Potter sits up, and through heavily lidded eyes Draco watches him grip his long thick cock. Potter is biting his bottom lip and he’s looking down at what he’s doing. Then Draco can feel the blunt head of Potter’s cock pressing against his entrance. It breaches Draco’s rim and slowly, always so so slowly, Potter sinks in.

 

With Potter fully pressed into him, Draco feels so deliciously wonderfully full.

 

Potter looks up once he’s buried inside Draco’s ass, and then he leans forward, pressing his lips to Draco’s.

 

And then he’s moving and merlin has he gotten better at this since the first time, far more confident and sure of himself as he fucks Draco.

 

He kisses Draco breathless, then pulls away and nuzzles his nose against Draco’s neck, before finally, finally, mouthing at Draco’s bond mark.

 

Draco arches, head lolling to the side to give Potter as much access as possible.

 

Draco lets himself give into the sensations, and give into the fantasy. The fantasy that Potter is really his, that he’ll never put Draco aside or get another mate, that Draco will never have to go back to working, that they can be some weird little family. He knows that it’s nothing more than a fantasy, something that can never really come to pass, but it feels so good, with Potter pounding into him and the bond humming happily in his blood, to pretend.

 

He clings to the blanket below him to prevent himself from grabbing onto Potter, and as he feels his orgasm fast approaching he finds it harder and harder to suppress the sounds that want to escape him.

 

Potter rumbles happily in response to a particularly audible moan Draco fails to stop, and Draco, recklessly, decides to experiment.

 

He lets the next whimper fall from his lips unobstructed, and the rumbling is louder this time, and Potter’s grip on his hip tightens.

 

He hesitates a moment, biting his lip and debating a moment before giving in.

 

“Y-yes.” He lets out on a breathy moan, and Potter’s hips stutter and his knot begins to swell.

 

“Fuck.” Potter says against Draco’s neck, lips brushing his bond mark and hips adjusting their rhythm to his growing knott. “Fuck, so good. Love the way you sound.”

 

“My omega, my mate.”

 

It’s what Draco needs to hear, and suddenly his orgasm is crashing over him.

 

“Yours. Yours. Always yours.” He manages in a whisper as he shakes and shivers under his alpha as pleasure washes through him in waves.

 

Potter growls and sinks his teeth into the bond mark, and Draco can feel him pumping him full of seed a moment later.

 

Chest still heaving, Potter collapses to the side and pulls Draco close, nuzzling his hair and neck. Draco expects Potter will fall asleep. He doesn’t always, but it is fairly common for Potter to sleep through most of the time they are tied together. Which works fine for Draco, as it gives him some time to recompose himself.

 

“Draco,” Potter says, sounding half asleep already. “Will you… will you stay with me tonight? You don’t have to, but I’d like that, having you close… with me...”

 

Draco should really say no, he should retreat to the perceived safety of his rooms as soon as Potter’s knott goes down enough for them to separate.

 

He should remember his place .

 

But the day had been so tiring, and he’d slept so little the night before, and Potter is so warm and his arms feel so good around Draco.

 

“Okay.” Draco agrees, and he can feel Potter’s smile against his neck before he presses a kiss against Draco’s bond mark.

Notes:

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!

As a heads up I may not post any new chapters for the next two weeks. I meant to warn last chapter but I forgot, sorry. I'm getting married and while I should have internet access, and I might update, it's definitely not going to be a priority for me. I'll be back to my regular schedule in June though so, hope to see you all then.

Chapter 12

Notes:

Thank you all for all the well wishes! They were all so nice to read. <3<3
I'm a married man now, so back to writing/posting fic. I don't believe there will be any more interruptions to posting this fic but I will try and let yall know if that changes.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy.

.::Harry::.

 

Waking up with his mate still in his arms, warm and soft and still sleeping peacefully, is easily one of the best experiences Harry’s ever had.

 

It’s still weird, even to him, that he’s chosen to have this with Draco Malfoy, but... he’s always looked forward to having a mate, always known he wants that domestic bliss, that partnership, that feeling of family, that kind of love.

 

And he feels that way about Draco.

 

He’s not sure when he started feeling that way, but he’s sure of it now, as he looks at the beautiful man in his arms.

 

He lets himself study the blonde. Draco gets uncomfortable if Harry looks at him too much normally, so Harry tries to avoid staring, but now he lets himself look his fill.

 

He’s doing better.

 

His skin and hair look better, he looks less tired, and he’s gained some weight, though still not quite as much as Harry would like.

 

Draco looks peaceful like this, Harry thinks. When he’s awake Draco always seems so… tense, wary… but like this he looks relaxed... comfortable even.

 

He’s still covered in old marks. He always will be. They may fade a bit with time, but as powerful magical marks, they’ll never really go away.

 

Harry expects to still feel jealous or angry when he looks at the marks, but he finds that while he still has some anger that Draco had to go through all of this, he doesn’t feel it as sharply as he did before. Now he mostly just feels amazed. Amazed that his mate is so strong to have gone through all of that and survived, amazed that he gets to have a life with Draco.

 

He presses his nose to the scent glands in Draco’s neck, breathing in the wonderful smell of his mate, and then kisses his bond mark.

 

Draco snuggles closer to Harry, and shifts to give Harry more access to his neck. Harry can’t help the rumble of happiness as he kisses his mate more, holding him tighter and reveling in this quiet moment.

 

Draco wakes slowly, though Harry can tell by the way he tenses when he becomes aware that he isn’t alone.

 

“Shh,” He says soothingly. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you.”

 

He brushes his hand through Draco’s silky hair and nuzzles his neck, relieved when Draco relaxes.

 

He moves his hand from Draco’s hair to his cheek, and pulls Draco into a lazy open mouthed kiss.

 

“Good morning Draco.” He says, resting his forehead against Draco’s.

 

Draco blinks back at him, and Harry’s breath catches in his throat.

 

He so rarely gets to see Draco’s eyes, and now they are so close and looking back at him, so open and vulnerable. If Harry hadn’t been sure about his feelings earlier he is now.

 

“Good morning… Harry” Draco says, and again, Harry can do nothing to stop the pleased rumble that overcomes him. He leans in and catches Draco’s lips in another kiss, more heated this time then the last.

 

He’s been hard since he woke up, and he would very much like to give Draco a blowjob now.

 

He’d been happy last night to change his plans, excited even, since it wasn’t often Draco was so vocal about a preference, but he hopes this morning will be different. He doesn’t think he was imagining how much Draco had wanted to be sucked off last night, he had apparently just wanted to be knotted more.

 

He moans at the memory as he kisses down Draco’s neck. Just the thought of his mate, his omega, asking for his knot like it wasn’t already his whenever he wants it, has him aching with the desire to knot him again.

 

But not right now.

 

Reaching the collar of Draco’s shirt he hesitates. He wants to ask Draco to take it off, wants as much of Draco as he’s willing to give but… he also doesn’t want to push things. Another time maybe.

 

He untangles his arms from around Draco, places his hand on Draco’s hips, and slides down the bed till he’s level with Draco’s naked waist.

 

He glances up at Draco’s face, where he is watching Harry with wide hungry eyes, and then turns his attention to what is before him. He’s never sucked someone off before, and he wants to do a good job.

 

Draco’s cock is… and Harry knows Draco would hate this description... adorable. Harry loves it. It’s small but so well proportioned. Draco is hard already, and his cock is flushed the softest shade of pink.

 

Pressing his nose against the small patch of white blonde hair at the base, Harry can smell Draco, his natural smell strong down here, and with that, he can also smell sweat, Draco’s arousal, the slick leaking from him somewhere down below, and... he can smell his own seed from when he fucked Draco the night before.

 

It’s not a clean smell, but Harry loves it.

 

He nuzzles the soft skin of Draco’s cock, noticing the tip is leaking precome. Experimentally he licks it. He doesn’t like the bitter taste, but the full body shiver from Draco makes it more than worth it.

 

He glances up to Draco’s face, and notices with disappointment that Draco is covering his mouth with his hand again.

 

That won’t do, he thinks, and he reaches up to gently pull Draco’s hand away, guiding it to his messy black hair instead. Draco gets the hint and tangles his fingers into Harry’s hair. He hums in approval and it sends another shiver through Draco.

 

Harry tries to remember what he’s read, and what he’d enjoyed when Draco has sucked him off, and grasps the base of Draco’s cock. He presses a kiss to the tip, then licks again.

 

Draco moans above him, this time unmuffled by his hand, and the sound draws a happy rumble from Harry.

 

He presses an open mouthed kiss to Draco’s cock and sucks the tip in. Draco whines, his hand twitching in Harry’s hair.

 

It doesn’t take him long to build up to being able to take Draco’s whole cock in, it’s sloppy and he’s sure he’s not very good at this, but Draco’s cock is small enough that he manages. He has no idea how Draco manages his cock, he’s sure he would never be able to handle that.

 

Once Draco lets go of holding back his sounds, he’s quite noisy. Harry loves it, he loves all the gasps and moans and breathy whimpers. He tries to keep track of what all gets the best responses, but he’s sure he’ll have forgotten by the next time he tries.

 

And he really really hopes there is a next time.

 

His jaw is just starting to feel sore when Draco tugs on his hair slightly and gasps.

 

“H-Harry I’m-”

 

Harry pulls back but not all the way off. He’s not confident enough in his ability not to choke to let Draco come when he’s all the way in, but he does want to try to swallow…

 

He keeps just the tip in his mouth, sucking and licking, until Draco arches off the bed and comes with a cry.

 

Draco’s seed is bitter and warm, and Harry doesn’t like the way it feels down his throat when he swallows, but Draco seems to have enjoyed himself and really, that is the whole point.

.::Draco::.

 

He’s never really had to… perform… post orgasm before. If his clients cared if he came, it was pretty much only because they wanted him to come on their knott and things were always over so fast after that, there was never much else Draco had to do besides lie there.

 

He worries, for a moment that Potter might want him to return the favor. He doesn’t think he can manage at the moment, he feels as if all his bones have been turned to jelly.

 

But instead, Potter spreads Draco’s legs further, settles between them and pushes in.

 

It almost feels like too much, he feels so sensitive and Potter’s unforgiving pace and his uncanny ability to hit that spot inside that makes Draco see stars is… a lot. But he’s relieved that he isn’t expected to do anything but lie there and take it.

 

Potter latches on to his bond mark with his mouth, and pounds into Draco, and it’s all Draco can do to cling to Potter’s strong shoulders and try not to cry from how intense it all feels.

 

It’s doesn’t take much longer though, before he feels Potter’s knot swelling inside him and then Potter is pumping him full.

 

Potter collapses to the side and pulls Draco close, nuzzling his neck and humming affectionately before promptly dozing off again.

 

Draco tries to gather his thoughts, to compose himself. Last night was a lot, this morning was a lot. But, he reminds himself, he just needs to hold it together long enough for them to come untied and then he can be off to his rooms to break down in private.

 

Because he’s screwed, he knows he is.

 

He wants too much for the fantasy to be real, and it can’t be. Eventually something is going to come along and force him to remember what he is, who he is, and what his place in this world is.

 

Something will come along and force him to remember that things like him don’t get happily ever afters with mates like Harry Potter.

 

Eventually Potter will move on. And Draco… Draco may not have been so wrong that first night.

 

When Potter is done with him, Draco could probably be done… though it seems more likely now that Draco will have to finish things off himself.

 

He doesn’t want to go back to working, can’t stand the idea of being set aside, or being forced into a bond with someone else, but… he can’t imagine a future where these things don't happen, not realistically.

 

So maybe it's for the best then. When Potter is done with him, he’ll be done.

 

Notes:

I'm sorry? I always hate leaving chapters on a down note but sometimes you just gotta.

We still have a ways to go before this fic is over, and I hope that you all continue to enjoy. Comments and kudos appreciated.

Chapter 13

Notes:

Hello again everyone, thanks for sticking with this fic and i hope you enjoy!

.::Harry::.

 

“Hermione, I’m sorry I know you’re at work, but it’s kind of an emergency and I don’t know what to do and I didn’t know who else to call-” Harry starts in as soon as the floo call connects.

 

Hermione is seated at the desk in her office, going over some paperwork, but she comes to kneel by the fireplace as soon as Harry appears in the fire.

 

“It’s fine, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” She asks, eyes flicking over what she can see of him.

 

“I’m- I’m yeah. It’s Draco…” Harry says, sure Hermione can hear the panic in his voice. “I don’t know what’s wrong but he’s in pain and he won’t let me take him to St. Mungo’s and I don’t know what to do…”

 

“Well then budge over, I’ll come over and have a look, see what I can do.” Hermione says, going for her own supply of floo powder to make the trip, but frowning when Harry doesn’t move.

 

“He’s… he’s in heat.” Harry says.

 

He’s beyond worried about Draco, and he knows Hermione isn’t a threat… but it’s still hard to make himself let anyone near his mate while he’s like this.

 

“Oh Harry.” Hermione says, looking at him with fond exasperation, but there’s a sternness in her voice as she continues. “Get ahold of yourself and move over.”

 

Harry does as he’s told.

 

A moment later she’s beside him, dusting off her robes and wrinkling her nose at the strong smell of an omega in heat which has permeated the whole house.

 

“He’s… he’s this way.” Harry says stiffly, and leads the way to Draco’s bedroom.

 

He knocks on the door, heart stuttering and hands clenching as there’s another pained moan from somewhere behind it.

 

“Draco, Hermione is here.” He says through the door, resisting the urge to just break it open. “Is it okay if she comes in and checks on you?”

 

“I’m fine.” Comes the terse reply from behind the door.

 

Harry can feel his jaw clench.

 

“Please Draco.” He says. “I’m… I’m really worried.”

 

Draco doesn’t respond, but a moment later Harry hears the lock on the door click open.

 

He sighs and takes a step back, ignoring Hermione’s raised eyebrows and gesturing for her to go ahead.

 

He has never hated respecting Draco’s space more than having to watch Hermione disappear into Draco’s rooms while he stays out in the hallway. He tries to listen in, but clearly Hermione puts up a silencing charm because he hears nothing from inside anymore.

 

So, he paces in the hallway just outside the door.

 

It seems like forever before Hermione comes back out, lock clicking shut again behind her.

 

“He’s… I think he’s going to be fine.” She leads with, noting the worry in his face and body.

 

“This is, apparently... normal for him. He doesn’t show any signs of anything that I believe justifies forcing him to go to St. Mungos if he doesn’t want to go.” She continues.

 

“But he’s in pain.” Harry says, none of the books had said anything about heats being painful for omegas, uncomfortable certainly, but not like this.

 

He pales as there’s another pained sound from Draco’s room.

 

“Yes.” Hermione says simply. “But I don’t think it justifies forcing him to go to St. Mungos if he does not want to go, and he does not, he was clear on that.”

 

“But Hermione-” Harry starts.

 

“There are some things you could do to help.” She says, interrupting him. “From what he described, the pain he’s dealing with is similar to muscle aches, extreme, but I trust you know how to help ease that kind of pain.”

 

“Yeah.” He says, he’d played enough quidditch as a kid to know how to deal with sore muscles.

 

“He won’t let me in though.”

 

Hermione sighs at this, like she already knew, and was expecting this but also didn’t really want to have this conversation.

 

“He’s scared Harry.” She says, “He’s had… bad experiences... with alphas during his heat in the past. Painful ones.”

 

“He’s afraid it will hurt if you try to… have sex… with him right now.”

 

“I won't then.” Harry says immediately.

 

Getting knotted was usually a way to ease the difficulties of a heat, but if it’d hurt Draco… Harry never wants Draco to hurt again, especially not because of him.

 

“I know you won’t Harry.” Hermione says. “But he’s been through a lot. I imagine this kind of trust is still hard for him.”

 

“What am I supposed to do then?” Harry says, feeling defeated.

 

“Respect his boundaries, talk to him, build trust.” Hermione says, sympathetically. “The two of you can get through this, it’ll just take time.”

 

“And when this is done with, try and convince him to see a healer.”

 

Harry frowns confused.

 

“I thought you said-”

 

“I said I don’t think it’s a good idea to force him to go to St. Mungos in the middle of a heat when he doesn’t want to go and isn’t in any immediate danger.” Hermione says, “And I’m saying, after this heat, try to convince him to see a healer willingly.”

“I’m certainly no expert on this, but heats aren’t supposed to be this way. He’s not in any immediate danger, but just to be on the safe side… best to check that it’s not indicative of some other health problem.”

 

He sees Hermione out, worry heavy on his mind, and relocks the floo behind her.

 

Then he goes back to Draco’s door and leans his forehead against it, trying to think of what to say.

 

“Draco… I’m here.” He says to the dark wood of the door. “I won’t come in unless you say it’s okay, but I’m here. I just want to help.”

 

The only reply he gets is a pained whimper.

 

His jaw clenches and he practices the breathing exercises Ron taught him.

 

Once he thinks he’s calmed down enough to keep the frustration out of his voice he continues, speaking to the door, hoping Draco is listening.

 

“Hermione said it’s like muscle cramps?” He asks, not expecting an answer. “Have you tried taking a bath? There should be a bath soak in there, I forget what it’s called, but it’s in a blue bottle with yellow on the label, that should help also.”

 

“Some professional quidditch players use it, to help with the aches after practices.”

 

“Or I could have Kreacher get you-”

 

“I can’t take a bath.”  Draco’s voice is quiet, but it seems to come from surprisingly close to the door.

 

“Why not?” Harry asks, dropping down to his knees to press close to where Draco’s voice seems to be coming from.

 

“...don’t think I’ll be able to get in the tub. Too weak....” Harry only just hears. He shuts his eyes against a fresh wave of instincts yelling at him to get to his mate right now.

 

“Is there anything I can do to help? I could send Kreacher in-”

 

“No.” Draco says with a chuckle that sounds pained. “Anything but that.”

 

“Okay.” Harry says, his heart aching for his mate. “No Kreacher, got it.”

 

Neither of them says anything for a while, Harry listens to Draco’s breathing, trying to be comforted by it and at a loss as to what to do or say.

 

“Have you been drinking enough water? I could send some more in for you, no need to get Kreacher.” Harry says, grasping for anything he can do to help.

 

He hears the lock click open, and holds his breath, hoping.

 

“Will you help me to the bath?” Draco asks, ignoring Harry’s question, not that he cares.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” Harry says, and stands. He takes a deep breath, gathers his focus, and opens the door.

 

It smells even more in here, like slick and arousal and Draco. His cock throbs with desire. But then he sees Draco, on the floor near the door, hunched over in pain. Draco’s knees are drawn up to his chest, his head is down, and he tightens his arms around himself when Harry looks at him.

 

He’s in pajamas, probably the ones he’d been wearing before he woke up to this, and Harry can see that the bottoms are quite wet with slick.

 

Harry kneels down beside him.

 

“Hey,” he says softly. “Do you… do you think it’d be better if I tried to levitate you? Or can I pick you up?”

 

“Just- just pick me up.” Draco says quietly to his knees, and even past his hair, Harry can see his cheeks alight with a blush.

 

“Okay.” Harry says.

 

Lifting Draco is still easy enough, though not as easy as it used to be, he is glad to note. He tries his best to do it gently, pulling Draco to his chest and supporting his weight with an arm under his knees and one around his back, but Draco still winces when Harry pulls him up with him.

 

He presses his nose to Draco’s silky hair, and breathes in his smell. He’s still really worried, but already the smell of Draco, the weight of him in his arms, is soothing Harry.  

 

His mate is here, right here, and he’s helping, at least somewhat, he hopes.

 

He sets Draco down gently to sit on the polished stone countertop next to the sink, and turns on the taps of the large clawfoot tub with a wave of his hand.

 

He forces himself to step away, and eyes Draco’s clothes.

 

“Can you manage the top by yourself?” He asks, and Draco nods. He’ll probably need help with the bottoms, if he’s been having trouble standing.

 

Draco starts on the buttons of his shirt, and Harry busies himself with finding the bath soak he had been talking about. Once he’s found it he turns back to Draco and has to take a moment to compose himself, the sight of Draco’s pale chest and back, reflected in the large mirror behind him, even covered with old claiming marks as they are, brings arousal back to the forefront of Harry’s mind.

 

He clears his throat and walks back over to Draco.

 

“This okay?” He asks, showing Draco the bottle.

 

Draco glances over it and nods.

 

Harry adds some to the water near the tap, and sets the water swirling with another wave of his hand to mix it in.

 

When the tub is full of warm sparkling deep blue water, he turns off the tap and turns back to Draco.

 

He stands close, wanting to be closer, and places a hand on the waistband of Draco’s pajama pants, over his hip.

 

“Need help with this?” He asks, trying to push his arousal down so as not to show it in his voice, not wanting to make Draco nervous or uncomfortable.

 

Draco nods, and Harry helps him to stand, supporting most of his weight with an arm under his shoulders, so Draco’s shaking legs don’t have to. He unties the drawstring of Draco’s pants and helps to slide them over Draco’s hips and to the floor.

 

He has to bite his lip to suppress a groan though, at how soaked they are.

 

Merlin he wants Draco so badly.

 

He helps Draco into the tub as gently as he can. Draco whimpers as he goes in though, in relief or pain Harry doesn’t know.

 

Harry’s shirt is soaked after, having gotten splashed as he tried to help, but he ignores the clinging fabric.

 

Draco has his eyes closed, and his head resting against the built in headrest. It looks like it’s helping, somewhat, though Harry can still see him tense when the pain, which seems to come and go in waves, hits.

 

He tries to think of how else he can help.

 

“Would a massage help?” He asks.

 

Draco’s eyes open and he blinks up at Harry. He studies Harry for a moment… searching his face for something. Then he closes his eyes again, and shrugs.

 

Harry thinks its the best answer he’s going to get, and he goes to get the chair from the desk in the room. He settles it behind the headrest end of the tub, it isn’t exactly ideal positioning... but it’ll be more comfortable than trying to just sort of crouch next to the bath.

 

He reaches out, tentatively, and lets the backs of his fingers brush Draco’s cheek gently as he moves, not wanting to startle the blonde. He traces their bond mark on Draco’s neck with a finger and Draco shivers.

 

He starts with Draco’s shoulders, working his fingers into the tense muscles there. He starts with the slightest of pressure and gradually builds up more, testing what Draco is comfortable with. Settling on a pressure that Draco seems to like best, he works his way across Draco’s shoulders and down his back, what little he can in this position.

 

Draco is biting his lip, and trying to be quiet.

 

Harry nuzzles his nose against Draco’s cheek as his hands continue to work.

 

“You can make noise, it’s fine Draco.” He says, trying to sound reassuring but pretty sure he just sounds turned on.

 

Draco, almost reluctantly, lets go of his lip and stops trying to force himself to be quiet. Harry tries to focus on the task at hand, tries to ignore his hips shifting of their own accord in the seat, his body trying to relieve some of the pressure building in his pants. He massages up Draco’s neck, over his scalp and down his arms. Any part of him he can reasonably reach while Draco soaks in the bath.

 

Eventually he goes back to his shoulders, because he can’t think of anything else to do and he wants to keep his hands on Draco.

 

His fingers brush against their bond mark any opportunity he has.

 

He’s pretty sure Draco would stay in the bath all day if he could, it’s charmed never to lose its heat and he thinks at some point Draco may have even drifted off to sleep for a bit, but eventually Harry decides it’s probably not a good idea for Draco to stay in the water too much longer.

 

“Draco... I’m sorry love, but you should probably get out soon.” He says.

 

Draco whines and sinks down lower in the water.

 

“I know... I’m sorry, but we don’t want you getting sick on top of already not feeling good.” Harry says, fighting the urge to just give in to his adorable mate. “C’mon. I’ll help.”

 

Getting Draco out of the tub sets Harry’s clothes awash with a fresh wave of splashing water, but he ignores it as he wraps Draco up in the biggest fluffiest towel he can find.

 

Draco seems a little steadier on his feet, less shaky in general, but Harry still sweeps him up into his arms once he’s bundled up in the towel and carries him to the bed. He sets Draco down carefully and tucks him into the soft blanket.  

 

Draco yawns and snuggles deeper. Harry turns away to try and adjust himself less obviously.

 

That’s when he notices the potions still sitting on the desk.

 

“Draco,” he says going over to the desk, “why didn’t you take these?”

 

“Couldn’t.” Draco says, sounding sleepy. “My stomach was too upset. Could probably manage now though.”

 

Harry brings the potions, a general pain relieving potion and a nutrient potion, to Draco frowning.

 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

Draco just shrugs and shifts up onto his elbows to drink the potions as Harry hands them to him. Harry puts the empty vials back on the desk. He kneels down next to the bed, resting his arms on the bed and his head on his arms and looking Draco over worriedly.

 

“Where does it hurt? Is it all over or…?” Harry asks.

 

“All over, but… it's worse around my stomach.” Draco says, he looks uncomfortable, embarrassed.

 

“Okay.” Harry says, and places a hand on Draco’s cheek, leaning in to kiss him as he stands. “I’ll be right back.”

 

He thinks he sees sadness in Draco’s eyes for a brief moment before his expression becomes carefully blank. Harry doesn’t understand it, but it makes his heart hurt.

 

“Just a moment, really. I just need to get some things.” He says hesitating, and he tries to give Draco a reassuring smile.

 

He goes to the door and leans out into the hallway, kind of worried if he leaves the room he won't be welcome back.

 

“Kreacher” He calls. The elf appears with a pop a moment later, wringing his long bony fingers with worry.

 

“Is Master Draco okay?” The elf asks. Harry’s not sure between the two of them who has been more worried about Draco since waking this morning to this… situation.

 

“He’ll be fine, he’s just not feeling well right now.” Harry says, trying to be reassuring despite his own still very present worry. “Will you get a warm water bottle and a fresh set of pajamas for me?”

 

“Right away Master Harry.” The elf says, and disappears with another pop.

 

Harry waits in the doorway, knowing Draco does not want Kreacher coming in, and the elf returns a few moments later with the requested items.

 

“Thanks.” Harry says, taking the items and going back in the room, shutting the door behind him.

 

Draco’s eyes are on him, he can feel it, but he knows as soon as he looks Draco will try to look away. Draco doesn’t like to be caught staring.

 

He sets the temperature on the water bottle and hands it to Draco.

 

“If you hold that against the parts that hurt worst it might help.” He says, trying not to look as Draco unfolds the blanket and towel to press the water bottle against his belly.

 

“I’m going to go change.” He says gesturing at the door to the bathroom with the fresh set of clothes in his hand.

 

Draco doesn’t respond, and Harry shuts the bathroom door behind him with a soft click. He leans back against the door with his eyes closed and presses the heel of his palm against his aching cock.

 

It’d be inappropriate to wank right now, he knows, but merlin does he want to.

 

He straightens and sheds his wet clothes, replacing them with the pair of sweats and tshirt that Kreacher had brought him.

 

He rubs a hand roughly over his face, takes a deep breath, and goes back into the room.

 

Draco is watching the door, but when Harry comes through it he glances away. Harry goes to the bedside and kneels down again.

 

“How are you feeling? Is it helping any?” He asks, brushing some of Draco’s hair out of his face.

 

Draco nods, but a moment later he tenses and bites his lip as a fresh wave of cramps and pain hit him.

 

Harry can only watch and hope it passes soon, worried, frustrated, and unable to think of anything he can do to help.

 

When Draco’s face relaxes again, and he releases his already rather abused looking lip, Harry leans in and kisses him gently.

 

“I’m so sorry love.” He says, voice rough with emotion. “Is there anything you can think of that I can do to help?”

 

Draco hesitates, glancing at Harry and away again, seeming to think over his answer.

 

Eventually, as if he’s giving in, he closes his eyes and in a quiet voice he asks.

 

“Will you hold me?”

 

“Of course” Harry replies.

 

He’s going to have to be careful about it, doesn’t want to go poking Draco with anything that might make him uncomfortable, but he’ll manage if Draco thinks it might help.

 

He climbs onto the bed, behind Draco who stays on his side facing away from Harry, curled around the hot water bottle, and pulls him close to his chest. Their positioning reminds Harry of how they lay when he’s knotted Draco, only now he keeps his hips well away.

 

Draco sighs happily and snuggles back against him and Harry’s heart feels like it does a somersault. He nuzzles his nose against Draco’s neck and into his hair, and presses kisses all along Draco’s neck and jaw, wanting him to be able to feel how loved he is.

 

Harry’s not sure how long they lay like that, Harry trying to hug and kiss Draco through any pains, but somehow during this time Draco’s hips have drifted back towards Harry’s and as Draco shifts again Harry feels the faintest brush of Draco’s towel covered ass against Harry’s pajama clothed erection.

 

Harry grips Draco’s hip to still him and bites down a moan. His body wants him to press forward, to seek out more of that warmth and friction and pressure, but he reminds himself, Draco does not want that. He will do whatever it takes to prove himself worthy of the trust Draco placed in him when he let Harry in.

 

“Sorry.” Draco says, sounding miserable, his hip still twitching slightly in Harry’s grasp.

 

“S fine.” Harry says, reminded that he isn’t the only one struggling with this.

 

Draco is in heat, and while his heats do seem to work differently than what is typical, he had been hard every time Harry had looked, so that part at least… seems to be the same as what you would expect.

 

Which gives Harry an idea.

 

“Draco, I know you don’t want to have sex, and that’s fine.” Harry says, rushing to reassure when Draco tenses at his words. “But have you ever tried… y’know… wanking?”

 

“It’s just, that sort of thing can be… relaxing afterwards right? So I dunno, maybe it’d help?”

 

He presses his burning face against Draco’s shoulder, cursing his apparent inability to think before speaking.

 

It doesn’t seem like Draco will respond, and Harry almost feels grateful, he doesn’t need any further confirmation that he’s an idiot because of course, of course, that would have been something Draco would have already considered. Not necessarily for relaxation purposes maybe, but Draco would have surely tried wanking at some point during one of his past heats, and if it had been helpful or nice surely Draco would have got to it already.

 

Draco’s arm, which is wrapped around the one Harry has draped across Draco’s chest, tightens, and he traces invisible patterns on Harry’s wrist with his thumb nervously.

 

Harry’s about to try again to reassure that whatever Draco thinks is best is fine, that it was just a stupid idea, but Draco speaks first.

 

“I don’t think I can.”

 

“What?” Harry says, concern and confusion building. “Why not?”

 

Harry blushes when he remembers a chapter of one of the books he’d read on omegas that had talked about heat aids, tools to simulate being knotted that unmated omegas would use to help them through their heats.

 

Merlin, Harry hadn’t even thought to order anything like that, he hadn’t thought they’d need it, and he can’t imagine any store having that sort of thing just… in stock. What if Draco needs something like that though? What would he do? He tries to think of omegas he knows that he can ask, but the only one coming to mind in this moment is Mrs Weasley and he’s pretty sure he’ll die if he has to talk about this sort of thing with her.

 

“I’m just… I’m not good at it.” Draco says, face now buried in the pillow, stopping Harry’s runaway thoughts in their tracks.

 

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

 

Draco shrugs.

 

“Draco, I’m sorry I know this is… uncomfortable… but I just… I don’t understand.” Harry says. “I want to help if I can but.. I need to understand what you mean first.”

 

Draco buries his face deeper into the pillow, and Harry doesn’t think he’s going to get an answer but a moment later Draco flops over onto his back and covers his eyes with his arm, looking defeated.

 

“I… always feel… bad... when I try. Ashamed.” Draco says. “It never… I never get anywhere with it.”

 

“Never?” Harry asks, throat feeling dry.

 

Draco doesn’t respond, but Harry can see him grimace under his arm.

 

“How have you managed to get through so many heats without ever…?” Harry asks.

 

Draco uncovers his eyes and looks at Harry in confusion, and Harry feels like he’s missed something obvious.

 

“Omegas in heat are worth more” Draco says, like its some simple fact of life.

 

“Even whiny bitches like me.” Draco adds, the self loathing practically dripping from his voice, before he turns back on to his side, facing away from Harry again.

 

Harry tightens his arms around Draco pulling them as close together as he can, arousal completely forgotten in the face of this. He kisses and licks their bond mark, wanting to just sink his teeth in and reassure both of them that Draco is here now, that he is Harry’s and that Harry is going to love and treasure him forever, but he also needs his mouth to speak.

 

“Draco, Draco I’m so sorry. Draco you’re not… you’re not that… and it's… you told Hermione that sort of thing hurts when you’re in heat… it’s horrible that they made you still… do that sort of thing anyway.” Harry says, still holding Draco’s tense form close to him.

 

He kisses and nips at the bond mark, desperately trying to comfort his mate, and eventually Draco gives in to the onslaught of affection and relaxes against him.

 

They lay quietly for a while, both lost in their own thoughts.

 

“I bet you’re a great wanker.” Draco says suddenly, out of the blue. Harry is too shocked and happy by the hint of Draco’s old humor in his tone to be offended at being called a wanker.

 

“Oh yeah, I’m a great big tosser.” He says, grinning.

 

Draco glances back at him with a smile, and Harry’s heart skips a beat.

 

A moment later though he can feel Draco’s muscles tensing under his arm and Draco grimaces in pain.

 

Harry lets out a concerned noise and kisses Draco’s neck and bond mark, trying to be as comforting as possible. When the pain passes, Draco sighs and adjusts his head so Harry has better access to his neck. Harry gladly continues to kiss and suck and lick.

 

Draco gasps and shivers when Harry nips at their bond mark, and Harry can feel warmth pooling in his abdomen again.

 

“What- what do you think about… when you… you know?” Draco asks breathily.

 

“You.” Harry says, without hesitation. “Always you.”

 

Draco shivers, his hand twitching where its holding Harry’s wrist, almost like it wants to move elsewhere…

 

“You can if you want to.” He says. “There’s nothing wrong with wanking, and I love the sounds you make when you feel good, Draco.”

 

Draco groans, and his hand leaves Harry’s wrist to travel downward. Harry shifts his hips away from Draco, knowing he wont be able to keep them still if Draco makes any more amazing noises.

 

Draco shivers, but he’s biting his lip again, and his face doesn’t look like he’s enjoying himself. Harry presses a kiss to their bond mark.

 

“Relax Draco,” he says, letting his lips brush against Draco’s feverish skin, “you’re doing fine. Just enjoy yourself.”

 

Draco whimpers, and Harry can see the blanket moving where Draco is pulling himself off. Harry groans, but tries to muffle it by kissing Draco’s neck again.

 

Draco’s thoughts seem to start to get off track again whenever Harry is quiet for too long, so eventually Harry is just rambling and hoping he’s saying the right things.

 

“You’re so amazing Draco. So wonderful.” Harry says. “Look at you, being so good, doing just what I asked you to.”

 

Draco whimpers at that, and Harry has noticed how he seems to like being praised so he leans into that.

 

“Such a good boy.” He says, and he feels something brush his hip. He realizes with a start that it’s Draco’s hand reaching behind himself to finger at his entrance.

 

Merlin, he can hear how wet Draco is.

 

Harry muffles a whimper in Draco’s neck, his hips rocking to no avail.

 

“My good boy Draco. My mate, my love.” He rambles on.

 

Draco’s whole body seizes up, and he comes with a whine. Harry bites his own lip painfully to regain control of himself, and then he kisses their bond mark.

 

“Such a good boy, you were amazing.” Harry says.

 

Draco doesn’t respond, and Harry realizes that he’s already asleep.

Notes:

This chapter is the longest one in the whole fic if i recall correctly. Hope you enjoyed!

Comments and kudos appreciated. <3

Chapter 14

Notes:

Thanks for sticking with this fic. I hope you continue to enjoy.

.::Harry::.

 

They get through Draco’s heat somehow, though Harry’s not entirely sure how. Thankfully, it seems Draco’s heats tend to be on the shorter end of the spectrum and only last a few days rather than a full week like some.

 

Harry is grateful, he’s not sure he could have survived a full week.

 

It ends some time when Harry is managing to get a bit of sleep, and when he wakes up to Draco sitting on his cock he nearly blacks out from how good it feels after days of being turned on with no relief.

 

Even both exhausted as they are by having just survived Draco’s first heat since they’ve been mates, they manage to have sex three times that day.

 

Draco seems to be doing better now also. He’d been tired and worn out the first few days afterwards but he also seems… more comfortable, around Harry now, and it makes Harry’s heart swell with happiness every time he notices.

 

He is just thinking he should start dinner when he hears a loud crash and a shattering of dishes from the kitchen.  

 

Realizing with worry that he has no idea where in the house Draco is, Harry rushes to the kitchen.

 

The first thing he sees when he enters the kitchen is Ginny. She’s staring at something, and holding her hand out like she’s trying to calm some wild animal. He follows her gaze across the kitchen and, over by the stove, spots Draco, who looks terrified.

 

Harry moves quickly to his mate, wrapping his arms around Draco and putting himself in between him and the other alpha in the room.

 

“Sorry Harry.” Ginny says from across the room. “Didn’t mean to startle him.”

 

Harry nods in response but his focus is still on Draco who is clinging to him and shaking.

 

“It’s okay Draco.” He says quietly, nuzzling against the top of Draco’s head and trying to calm him. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

 

Draco swallows several times, and his eyes look glassy, but he seems to be regaining his composure. His hands drop from where they had been tangled in Harry’s shirt, and after several deep breaths he stops shivering.

 

Harry kisses the top of his head, then glances for the first time at the mess around them. A large tray, several broken dishes, and…

 

“Did you make treacle tart?” Harry asks incredulously.

 

Draco blushes and looks away with a shrug.

 

Harry beams at him.

 

“That’s incredible Draco.” Harry says, kissing him on the cheek. “I didn’t know you could do that, you’re so talented.”

 

Draco doesn’t respond but his blush spreads to his ears and down his neck.

 

“Aw” Ginny says, still on the other side of the room, “you guys are so cute.”

 

Draco tenses when she speaks, and Harry squeezes him a bit tighter. He turns to look at Ginny, and feels Draco huddle close to his back, practically hiding behind him.

Draco really is very uncomfortable around other alphas, Harry thinks. He’ll need to make sure to let everyone know that unexpected visits are no longer welcome, he doesn’t want Draco feeling unsafe in his own home.

 

“Hey Gin, what’s up?”

 

“Mmm I’m on a break from team stuff and mum wanted me to bring this stuff by.” She says gesturing lazily at a large basket that looks full to the brim with homemade foods. “I swear she’s convinced that any of us that don’t live at home will starve if she doesn’t send us food.”

 

“Not that you need it.” Ginny continues with a smirk. “You’ve got a house elf and a cute little omega to make you food.”

 

He feels Draco grab his shirt tightly, and glances back at him, but Draco’s staring at the floor, so Harry can’t read his expression.

 

“It’s honestly not fair.” Ginny says with a joking pout. “You really should learn to share.”

 

Fuck.

 

Draco tenses behind him, and Harry can practically feel his fear.

 

Ginny’s a great friend, and Harry knows she is just joking around, and that she would never be joking like this if she knew about Draco’s past but… Draco does not know this.

 

Harry tries to think of the best way to handle this.

 

“Oh fuck off Gin” He says, trying for a similar joking tone. “This one’s mine, and I’m keeping him.”

 

He reaches behind him and pulls Draco forward, wrapping an arm around him and hugging him close.

 

“He even made me treacle tart, Gin.” Harry says. “Treacle tart.”

 

“Yeah... he’s pretty jumpy... but I reckon he’s a keeper.” Ginny says with a genuine smile.

 

Draco seems to be picking up on the fact that Ginny was joking, and he leans into Harry more. Harry kisses his cheek, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

 

Ginny’s pouting again now.

 

“Oh honestly,” she says, with no real heat to her words, “you two are worse than Ron and Hermione.”

 

“I’m leaving, I’m too single for this.” She says as she heads back to the kitchen floo.

 

“Maybe you wouldn’t be so single if you spent less time on quidditch and more time looking for a partner.” Harry says jokingly.

 

“You sound just like mum.” Ginny says, flipping him off.

 

The moment she’s gone he turns to Draco, cupping his cheek and turning his face towards him.

 

“Are you okay?” He asks, worriedly. “Are you hurt?”

 

Draco looks at him for a moment then shakes his head no.

 

His eyes drift down to the floor and over to the mess of broken dishes.

 

“I’m sorry.” Draco says dejectedly.

 

“It’s fine. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Harry insists. “I’m sorry she scared you, I should have told her not to come by unless I said it was okay, I didn’t think.”

 

“I’m sorry she made you uncomfortable.” He continues. “She doesn’t know… and she doesn’t always think things through.”

 

Draco still looks miserable so Harry tries to think of how to cheer him up.

 

“I still can’t believe you made treacle tart, that’s amazing.” He says. He’d always been shit at baking, and he hadn’t expected Draco to have any cooking experience.

 

“I ruined it though. And I broke your dishes.” Draco says, still sounding upset with himself.

 

“It’s not your fault, and it’s not a big deal.” Harry says. “I’ll have Kreacher clean up the mess, and if you’re still craving treacle tart we can go out and get some.”

.::Draco::.

 

Draco had wanted to surprise Harry.

 

He’d been so good to Draco, during his heat. He hadn’t fucked Draco once during his heat despite how much he clearly wanted to, and Draco had never had a heat with so little pain. So, Draco had wanted to do something for Harry. Something special.

 

He doesn’t have much to offer though.

 

It was Kreacher, actually, who came up with the idea, mentioning not so casually to Draco that Harry likes treacle tart. It was Kreacher, also, who had acquired the recipe book, after assuring Draco several times that it was fine and that he had a budget for such things when he’d do Harry’s shopping.

 

So really, Draco hadn’t done all that much. Just followed the recipe, which was really quite easy compared to some of the finicky potions Draco had brewed in the past.

 

But despite how little he had to do, he’s still managed to mess it up.

 

He’d just gathered everything onto a serving tray, and was getting ready to take it up to Harry, when Weasley’s sister suddenly came through the floo.

 

He’d dropped the tray in his surprise, and then the fear had set in.

 

He had wondered about her, about why Harry isn’t with her instead of doing whatever it is he is doing with Draco, but the moment she steps into the kitchen he knows.

 

She is an alpha too.

 

He is glad when she leaves, glad when Harry’s attention turns fully back to him, irrationally jealous of her even still. Then he sees properly, for the first time, the mess he has made, and he feels his heart sink again.

 

He can’t even properly hear what Harry is saying anymore, and he feels his eyes stinging like he might actually cry.

 

He used to cry a lot, and honestly that should have been a hint as to what he would present as but he had been too proud to see. He had learned not to cry, over anything, he’d learned that there is no point to such foolishness. But Potter it seems, is still excellent at making Draco lose control, and now he is barely stopping himself from crying over some stupid destroyed pastries.

 

He feels a warm hand on his cheek, turning his head to face Harry’s. He doesn’t look at him, sure he will fall to pieces if he does.

 

Harry kisses him.

 

“Draco, you’re okay.” Harry says. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

Draco closes his eyes and leans into the hand on his cheek. He has to swallow several times to push down the emotions threatening to overcome him.

 

“Here c’mon, I have something for you.” Harry says, and Draco follows numbly when Harry takes his hand and leads him up to the study.

 

Draco watches distantly as Harry digs around in a desk drawer.

 

He straightens a moment later, turning back to Draco and holding a plain narrow box.

 

Draco’s breath catches in his throat, it can’t be.

 

“Sorry I didn’t give it back sooner.” Potter says sheepishly

 

When Harry hands him the box, Draco takes it with shaking fingers.

 

“I just… I wasn’t sure at first… and then I didn’t know when would be a good time…”

 

Draco opens the box, and inside is a wand. His wand. The one Harry had taken back at the manor, during the war.

 

He feels the tears on his cheeks before he even has a chance to try and stop them.

 

He takes the wand with shaking fingers, clutches it to his chest. He hasn’t been allowed to have a wand since… since the people who had taken him from the battlefield had destroyed the borrowed one he had been using… and this… this is his wand. His.

 

With his wand in his hands he feels more whole than he has in a very long time.

 

Harry pulls him into his warm arms, and Draco’s not sure how long he cries.

 

Notes:

Fun fact: this is version 2 of this fic, and the folder it's in is still called the "I'm Horny Version" bc this version has a least 200% more sex. Still not as much sex as it could be, but a lot more than unpublished version 1.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Have a wonderful day!

Chapter 15

Notes:

Thank you for your continued support. <3

.::Draco::.

 

Draco taps his shirt with his wand again, and watches in the mirror as the color changes.

 

Frowning he taps it again, and again the color shifts.

 

He’s spending far too long on this, the healers won’t care what color shirt he wears, but he’s nervous and he doesn’t have anything useful he can do so…

 

When the time to leave comes, he apparates to the kitchen. He’s been using magic excessively lately, for things he really doesn’t need to use it for, but... he’s just so happy to be able to use it again he can’t seem to stop himself from using it at every opportunity.

 

Potter gives him a look of fond exasperation but doesn’t comment.

 

“Ready?” Potter asks.

 

No, would be the honest answer. Draco nods ‘yes’.

 

Potter pulls him close and kisses him on the top of his head. 

 

He’d been persistent, and Draco, resolve weakened by too much good treatment and the fact that he had a wand now, had given in easily.

 

There is no point to seeing a healer, he’d been seen by healers before, but if Harry insists on wasting time… Draco will let him.

 

This healer would come to the same conclusions that the others had. 

 

Nothing to be done, nothing wrong with him, Draco just makes a big fuss over something that other omegas go through without complaint every day.

 

Draco tries not to look up as they leave the house to apparate to St. Mungos. He’d tried going in the back garden the other day, and even enclosed as it is by a high stone fence he’d felt dizzy at the amount of space stretching above him. So he keeps his eyes down and holds on to Potter tightly.

 

Once they’re outside the wards, Potter apparates them to St. Mungos. 

 

While Potter handles the check in, Draco continues to hold onto his arm and pointedly ignores the witch behind the desk. He really can’t handle being jealous of some receptionist on top of everything else. This place makes him uncomfortable, reminds him of when he’d been brought here by aurors, and he tries not to be too obvious about pressing his nose against Potter’s shoulder, breathing in and letting the alpha’s scent comfort him.

 

They don’t have to wait long before they are called back to a private room. 

 

When the healer enters, a short beta with her hair pulled back into a severe bun, Draco tries to tune out her conversation with Potter as much as possible.

 

As much as he knows what is coming, he is still not looking forward to what the healer will have to say. He knows he’s pathetic, but that doesn’t mean he likes to hear it said yet again.

 

“Draco” Potter says softly to him, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “It’s probably best if you answer these questions, you’d know better than me.”

 

Draco takes a few deep breaths, trying to steel himself. Then he nods.

 

The healer clearly knows about Draco’s background and Draco wonders vaguely if she was on his case. He remembers none of the hospital staff from his time here then, so for all he knows she could have been. Her questions are uncomfortable, to say the least. She asks about every little detail, no matter how terrible or embarrassing. He tries to answer them detachedly, giving just the bare minimum facts whenever possible.

 

She takes notes, and somehow, Draco thinks, that makes it worse. He doesn’t like the thought that somewhere there’s going to be a record of this. 

 

“And what about this last heat? The most recent one.” She says finally. 

 

Draco hesitates. 

 

It had for some reason been weirdly easier to talk about his past, then to talk about his present situation.

 

“It didn’t hurt as much.” Draco says eventually, going with the truth. 

 

Potter shifts next to him, but he doesn’t remove his arm from around Draco’s shoulder, for which Draco is grateful. He can’t look at Potter or the healer and he can feel a blush blooming on his cheeks.

 

“Really?” Says the healer, sounding interested. “And what was different about this one?”

 

He doesn’t know how to answer the question, he doesn’t really understand it himself.

 

But something about Potter’s presence, the things he did, or how he handled things had eased the pain gradually. In fact, towards the end, the pain had gotten so much less and the horrible empty feeling that had persisted throughout his heat had gotten so bad, that he had almost decided to just ask Harry to knot him anyway, even if it did hurt. But his heat had ended before he had come to a decision, so he hadn’t had the chance to find out if it would be worth it.

 

“I don’t know. A lot was different. He was there.” Draco manages, and he is relieved when the Healer shifts her inquisitive gaze to Potter.

 

“Well, Mr. Potter, what are your recollections of the events?” The healer asks.

 

“Umm…” Potter stumbles “well… Draco described the pains like… muscle cramps, so I tried to treat them like you would muscle cramps from sports or something.”

 

The healer nods, and Potter continues on sounding uncomfortable.

 

“So lots of warm baths and massages and rest.”

 

“I see.” The healer says, taking notes again. “And how many times did you knot him?”

 

Potter tenses, Draco still can’t handle looking at him but he’s sure he’s got to be blushing at this point, Draco certainly is.

 

“Umm… none?” Potter says. “Draco said that being knotted hurts when he is in heat, so umm… we didn’t do that.”

 

The healer hmms and writes more. 

 

“And Draco, were you able to reach orgasm without being knotted?” The healer asks, not looking up from her notes where she is still writing quickly.

 

Draco’s face burns.

 

He manages a nod, which thankfully the healer sees because he doesn’t think he could speak past his embarrassment right now.

 

“Okay, and how many orgasms did you have?” The healer asks, like she’s asking what he had for breakfast. 

 

“I.. I don’t know.” Draco says, unable to recall anything useful past his mortification.

 

She glances at Potter who hesitates for a moment before answering.

 

“Eleven.”

 

Merlin, Draco wishes the floor would just open up and swallow him.

 

The room is quiet for a few minutes while the healer reviews her notes. Potter presses his nose against Draco’s hair and Draco can feel the tension in the arm around his shoulder.

 

“Well then,” She says eventually, “From what you’ve both said, it sounds as if Draco may have some sort of hormonal imbalance or condition that is causing these unusual symptoms.”

 

“The good news is that these things are not typically that serious, and we should be able to get you some regular medication that should relieve the unpleasant symptoms.” She says, kindly. “The bad news is that first we have to run some tests, confirm my theory and figure out what exactly is wrong so we can treat you appropriately. And that is going to take some time.”

 

“I’ll take a blood sample today, and we should be able to get you the results in a week or so.” She continues. “Because of how recently your last heat was, it seems unlikely that you will have another before we get your results but just in case you do, I advise you to try to handle things the way you did the last time as it sounds like that helped.”

 

Draco feels thunderstruck, and hardly registers anything as they leave. 

 

This, this could actually be a real thing? A real confirmable medical condition? It might not have just been him being unable to handle things everyone else could?

 

Potter pulls him into a tight hug the moment they step through the door of Grimmauld place, and Draco lets himself relax into the embrace. 

.::Harry::.

 

“Are you okay?” Harry asks, still holding his mate tightly in their entrance hall.

 

He had been relieved by the healer’s confirmation that whatever is going on with Draco, that it probably isn’t serious. But Draco had seemed shocked, and he has been silent and absent since.

 

He doesn’t understand Draco’s reaction, but he wants to comfort him anyway.

 

“I don’t know.” Draco says eventually, quietly. “I’ve never… no healer has ever believed it was actually… actually something before.”

 

He holds Draco tighter, his heart aching as he remembers Draco’s words during his heat. He had called himself a ‘whiney bitch’ and Harry wonders how many times he had been told that that is what he is.

 

He doesn’t know what to say, so he holds Draco, one arm around his waist and one hand holding the back of his neck, and tries to reassure him as best he can.

 

Eventually Draco pulls away slightly and asks if Harry wants him to make dinner.

 

Draco has been helping out with cooking since the treacle tart incident, and Harry is pleased. Harry knows how to cook fairly decently, but mostly just meals his Aunt Petunia had had him make. Draco has had Kreacher pick him up some recipe books, and he has so far proven himself capable of making any of the dishes in them. 

 

“If you want.” Harry says. “Can I help though?”

 

They make dinner together, with Draco taking the lead and correcting Harry gently whenever he is doing something wrong. 

 

It’s not until later, much later, when they are snuggled close together in Harry’s tangled bedsheets, that the subject of what happened with the Healer is brought up again.

 

“Did… did it really help?” Harry asks, quietly. “During your heat…”

 

“Yeah.” Draco says, also speaking quietly in the dark room.

 

“At first, it was like all the other times… but then it got… less. It got easier.”

 

Relieved, Harry presses his lips to the bond mark.

 

“I’m so glad.” 

Notes:

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

Comments & Kudos appreciated.

Chapter 16

Notes:

Sorry this update is a bit later in the day, hope you enjoy anyway!

.::Harry::.

A week later sees them back at the healer’s for the results of Draco’s tests. Harry’s stomach is twisted up in knots as they sit in the room, waiting for the healer to arrive to talk it over with them. Draco is tucked under his arm, and he looks calm, his face blank… almost bored looking, but Harry can feel the tension in his shoulders, the slight tremor in the hand holding his.

 

When the healer enters, Harry searches her face for any hint of what is to come, but her calm professionalism reveals nothing.

 

She sits across from them, arranges her notebook and quill and then looks up at them.

 

“So how have you both been? Any new developments since I saw you last?” She asks them, quill poised.

 

Harry looks to Draco, but then shakes his head ‘no’ when he can tell Draco isn’t going to answer her himself.

 

The healer smiles kindly at them, and thankfully moves right on to the reason they are there.

 

“So as you both know, we ran some tests on a blood sample provided by Mr. Malfoy.” She says, and Harry holds his breath. “We couldn’t find any hormonal issues, and all the tests we ran came back normal.”

 

Harry feels Draco’s shoulders sink in defeat under his arm and he pulls him closer, pressing a kiss into his hair.

 

“But given the reported symptoms, I felt there must be something I was missing so I went back and reviewed your file again Mr. Malfoy” The healer continues, possibly noting that the lack of results had upset both of them. “And I believe I found the cause.”

 

Harry swallows, she had said the hormone things were usually not serious, but this… this could be anything.

 

“As you know for your legal case a bond scan was performed.” She says, and Harry doesn’t know where she’s going with this. “And upon further study of the results it seems that, at that time, you were under more than one bond.”

 

Harry’s throat feels dry.

 

“What?” Draco asks, barely a whisper, his eyes wide and fear written across his face.

 

“It’s very uncommon, but it does happen sometimes.” She says. “Occasionally with very strong bonds, new ones can’t… take… if they aren’t strong enough of a connection. Very rarely this can result in the new bond forming but being unable to completely get rid of the old one.”

 

“It seems that that is likely what happened.”

 

Harry’s mind is whirling, trying to process all of this.

 

“Is… is the other bond still active?” he asks, and Draco tenses further.

 

“No.” The healer says firmly. “I checked with the blood sample Mr. Malfoy provided at the last appointment, he now only has his bond to you Mr. Potter.”

 

“Can you trace who the other bond was with?” Harry asks, and he hears a sharp intake of breath from Draco but he doesn’t look, he can’t look.

 

He’s not sure what expression will be on Draco’s face, and Harry’s not sure he can handle it if he sees that Draco wants to pursue this other bond. This very rare, very powerful bond.

 

“Unfortunately no” the healer says, “the trace of it was so faint on the scan, there’s no way to get a magical signature. That’s likely why it was missed the first time, if no one was looking for something like this, it can be easy to miss”

 

Years, Draco must have been bonded to this person for years. Despite who knows how many other bond marks had been forced on him, that bond had held on. 

 

Harry couldn’t blame Draco if he wanted to explore that possibility, but the thought of having to let him go…

 

“But… but that doesn’t make any sense!” Draco says, suddenly speaking up. 

 

Harry looks at him, and all he can see is how upset and confused he is.

 

“It’s always, always been like this.” Draco says, voice trembling. “But the first time I’d never been marked, and this most recent time… you said I only had the one bond this time.”

 

“Well, with this last time… Omega’s aren’t supposed to be under more than one bond, and you were... likely for years, it’s going to take your body some time to adjust.” The healer explains patiently. “You said it was better this time? Easier? It’ll probably continue to get easier, your body just has to adjust to not fighting itself over who it should want.”

 

“And as for the first time… I’ll be honest that I don’t really know.” She says, and Draco makes a very frustrated noise. Harry would be feeling proud of how emotional and vocal he’s being if he himself wasn’t already feeling so emotionally wrecked by all of this.

 

“There are some cases, stories really, you have to understand this sort of thing is so rare, of bonds being formed without there necessarily being a… a bite involved.” The healer continues tentatively. “There’s next to no research on the subject, again it is extremely rare, but…”

 

“It seems in some cases, cases where the pair is very compatible, and there are extenuating circumstances, and some other magical scar is made while the pair is in contact… sometimes that’s enough for the bonding magic.”

.::Draco::.

 

They return home in silence, and Draco’s not sure when he started referring to Potter’s house as home but…

 

The dark expression on Potter’s face makes him nervous, and reminds him he shouldn’t be letting his guard down in these ways. 

 

The moment they step inside and shed their outer layers, Potter is on him, crowding Draco against the wall, wrapping him in his arms, and pressing his nose to Draco’s neck. 

 

He doesn’t kiss him, or grope, or ask Draco to go to bed with him and for a moment Draco is confused, but then it clicks.

 

Alpha’s are notoriously possessive of their omegas, and they have just spent the last hour discussing Draco having been bonded to other people.

 

Potter needs reassurance. 

 

Draco doesn’t really know how to offer that. 

 

He tries his best anyway, tilting his head more to the side, giving Potter better access to his neck and his bond mark. He then tentatively brings his hands up to Potter’s hips, not pulling or pushing… just... holding on.

 

Potter takes a shuddery breath and squeezes Draco tighter briefly before releasing him and lifting his head to try to look Draco in the eye. Draco can’t meet Potter’s stare, but he resists the urge to turn his face away or hide.

 

“Do you… do you want to try to find whoever you had that bond with?” Potter asks, and Draco’s heart feels like it stops, alarm flooding through him.

 

He glances over Potter’s face with wide eyes, and the alpha looks pained.

 

“No.” Draco says firmly.

 

“Are you sure?” Potter asks, and the words sound like he has to force them out.

 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Draco says. “I... I just want you. Only you.”

 

Potter groans and buries his face against Draco’s neck again. He seems placated, for now,  but Draco still feels scared and jittery, desperate to prove his loyalty to Harry, desperate to not get himself sent away.

 

“Please…” Draco asks, his voice shaking slightly. “Please knot me.”

 

Potter lifts his head and looks at Draco in concern, searching his face for something that Draco hopes desperately is there.

 

Unable to handle the scrutiny any longer he pushes himself up on his toes and presses his lips to Potter’s. Potter doesn’t return the kiss.

 

Draco can't stop the panicked noise that escapes him as he pulls away.

 

That Potter reacts to, tightening his arms around Draco and looking even more concerned. 

 

“It’s… it’s comforting. Today has been…” Draco admits reluctantly. 

 

“Please.”

 

Potter searches his face for a moment longer before he responds.

 

“Okay.”

 

Later, much later, when they are sweaty and tied together on Potter’s bed, and he can hear Potter snoring gently behind him, only then does Draco let himself acknowledge the small burn scar on his ankle that’s been itching ever since the healer had said that a bond didn’t necessarily need a bite.

 

The fact is, there is only one alpha he’d been in contact with that day in a way that could have possibly caused a bond to form.

 

And that alpha had been Potter.

Notes:

So I vaguely recall something about how when something comes in contact with fiendfyre it is immediately consumed by it but I dont remember if that was a canon thing or just something I read in a fic but for the sake of this fic that isn't the case.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Comments & kudos appreciated.

Chapter 17

Notes:

Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy!

.::Harry::.

 

“Harry, it’s been weeks. He misses you.” Andromeda says, her face flickering with the green flames of the floo.

 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Harry says, feeling incredibly guilty. “I’ll come over-”

 

“They’re going to have to meet sometime.” Andromeda says, cutting him off.

 

Harry knows this, but…

 

“I know you have your reasons for being reluctant to introduce them.” Andromeda says, her voice softening. “But they’re family. And we could all use some more family these days.”

 

Harry swallows, she has a point but-

 

“I’m dropping him off in a half an hour. So if you have any preparations you need to make I suggest you make them.” Andromeda says, voice backed with steel and not giving Harry a chance to respond before ending the call.

 

“Shit.” Harry mutters to the now empty hearth. 

 

He’d developed a good relationship with the older woman since the war due to their mutual interest in Teddy’s wellbeing but…

 

It’s times like these that Harry’s reminded of Andromeda’s other relatives. 

 

He scrubs his hands over his face, and mutters some more curse words, before standing. He needs to find Draco, give him a heads up.

 

He finds Draco in the library, like he had expected. Draco’s a voracious reader it seems, and it occurs to him that maybe he should try to invite him to go to a bookstore sometime… but then again he always seems reluctant to leave the house and had turned down all of Harry’s past offers for anything outside the house aside from the healer’s visits.

 

Harry clears his throat to let Draco, who is caught up in his reading, know that he’s there.

 

Draco blinks up at him, eyes sweeping over him before he averts them. Harry knows he has his attention now though.

 

“Um…” Harry starts sheepishly “sorry for the short notice but my godson is coming over. He’ll be here in around twenty minutes.”

 

Draco tenses.

 

“You don’t… you don't have to do anything.” He clarifies. “I can keep him restricted to downstairs if you’d like…”

 

He takes a deep breath.

 

“But if you’re okay with it I’m sure he’d love to meet you.” Harry says. He wants Draco to be okay with it. He’s terrified, Teddy isn’t the most tactful of kids and Harry’s so scared Teddy will say something that will hurt Draco but…

 

If he’s honest he’s kind of grateful to Andromeda for not giving him the option to continue putting this off. He doesn’t want to put it off any more, but he knows he would have if it’d been left up to him.

 

Draco is quiet for a while, and Harry hopes he’s just thinking things over and hasn’t decided to just not respond.

 

“I’m… I’m not good with kids.” Draco admits finally, sounding resigned. 

 

It’s not really the response Harry expects. 

 

Has Draco even had any experience with kids? He wonders. He sounds like he’s expecting to be reprimanded for this admission, and Harry tries to think through how to reassure him that he will not be.

 

“That- that’s okay.” He says, going for a light hearted tone and stumbling over his words slightly. “Teddy’s not too great with people. You’ll make a great pair.”

 

He means it to reassure Draco, a joking way to say Draco won’t be alone in his awkwardness, but it falls flat. Draco just looks even more tense and resigned.

 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Harry says, kneeling down in front of Draco and putting a hand on his knee in a way he hopes is reassuring.

 

“You really don’t have to meet him if you don’t want to.” Harry says, “And if you do meet him, you’re welcome to keep it as short as you want. He’s…”

 

Harry trails off trying to think of how to word this.

 

“I love him but Teddy’s... very... direct. It can be a bit much sometimes.”

 

Draco swallows and Harry wonders if this conversation is over.

 

“What… what if I do something wrong?” Draco asks, quietly.

 

He wants to pull Draco into a kiss, but he resists, instead taking Draco’s hands in his own. 

 

“Are you going to hurt him?” Harry asks calmly, knowing the answer but wanting Draco to understand.

 

Draco looks at him sharply, surprise and alarm written clearly on his face.

 

“No. I would never-” Draco says in a rush.

 

Harry squeezes his hands reassuringly.

 

“Then it’s going to be fine.” He says. 

 

Draco’s quiet again a moment, and Harry can see him working to regain his composure.

 

“What if… what if he asks about-” here Draco gestures vaguely at the scars on his neck.

 

Harry uses his thumbs to trace circles against the backs of Draco’s hands. 

 

“He probably will.” He admits. “You’re welcome to respond however you feel is best.”

 

Draco almost looks like he’s going to bring up some other issue, but then the chiming of the doorbell echoes throughout the house.

 

.::Draco::. 

 

Potter was right about one thing. 

 

“Woah you have a lot of scars!” is the first thing to come out of the kid’s mouth when he spots Draco, who is definitely not hiding by the stairs trying to watch without being seen. 

 

Draco panics at the comment, and at having been caught, and he considers just turning tail and going to his rooms, but the broad grin that Potter sends his way makes him feel rooted to the spot.

 

“I have a scar too.” The child says, bounding over to Draco excitedly. “Want to see?”

 

Draco once again considers fleeing, but Potter’s watching him still and he looks…

 

He looks so happy. 

 

Draco manages to nod, and crouches down so he’s on the same level as the boy. The kid excitedly pulls up his own sleeve to proudly show Draco a barely there scar on his forearm. He then launches into an excited and dramatic retelling of his encounter with a particularly angry garden gnome at the Weasley’s.

 

Draco tries to pay attention to the story, he really does, but he is thoroughly distracted as the child’s hair gradually shifts from the light brown it had been when he’d arrived to a vibrant Weasley orange. 

 

Draco glances to Potter, worried that somehow he has caused this, but Potter doesn’t seem bothered. He comes up to them and casually ruffles the kid’s now fully ginger hair.

 

“You hungry?” Harry asks. The kid nods enthusiastically. “Why don’t you go find Kreacher and ask him for some sandwiches?”

 

The kid lights up and excitedly runs off towards the kitchens.

 

Draco stands, trying to decide if it would be okay to ask about the hair. Harry pulls him into his arms, pressing his nose to Draco’s hair and humming happily. 

 

Draco tries not to be obvious about leaning into Harry’s warmth, or that the wave of relief that he feels that it seems he hasn’t messed up yet makes him feel a little light headed.

 

“He’s a metamorphmagi.” Harry says, after a few moments. “His grandmother says he should get some more control over it as he gets older but for now it’s mostly just his hair that changes and its usually subconscious.”

 

“Oh.” Draco says, that explains why Harry didn’t react. 

 

This sort of thing is probably normal for them. It must be a pain to keep track of him anywhere with a crowd, he finds himself thinking. He’s not sure he could manage it, he feels panicky just at the thought. 

 

The same curiosity that brought him to the bottom of the stairs earlier compels Draco to join Harry and Teddy in the kitchen for lunch. 

 

Teddy takes twice as long to eat as the two adults because he spends so much time animatedly talking to them about this and that. Harry responds occasionally, but Teddy doesn’t seem to mind that Draco just nods instead of speaking. 

 

After lunch, Teddy wants to play out back. Draco makes his excuses and heads up to his room instead of joining them, still not comfortable outdoors after spending so long exclusively inside and unsure how to explain it to Harry or the kid if that panic shows on his face. 

 

He originally plans to read. But as soon as he sits in the armchair by the window his eyes are drawn down to the yard. 

 

Watching Potter play with his godson in the shifting sunlight as the occasional cloud drifts overhead, reminds him somewhat of his thoughts that first night, especially as he sees Teddy’s hair shift from orange to black to match Potter’s. 

 

He wants to turn away, read like he had planned, but he can’t turn his eyes from the happy scene unfolding down below him. He should just be happy he hasn’t messed things up, that he’s not in trouble, but seeing Potter like this pokes at the ache in Draco’s heart, and fills him with longing for things he knows he can’t have. 

 

Notes:

This chapter was actually a late addition, because Teddy making an appearance was such a popular request and because I felt the story needed a bit of breathing room between the previous chapter and the one that is coming next.

Hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos appreciated.

Chapter 18

Notes:

Hello! Thank you for reading, I'm so glad you've made it this far.

As a heads up I wont be posting the week of August 2nd, as I have family visiting and I'll be far too busy cleaning that week in preparation to be able to give that chapter the editing focus it deserves. Posting should resume as normal on the 9th.

Thank you, I hope you enjoy.

.::Harry::.

 

Harry leans back against the heavy front door of Grimmauld Place, and thinks to himself that a door shutting has never sounded so loud before.

 

He looks at Draco, who is standing silently in the entrance hall a little ways away from him. Draco’s face is still completely closed off, and his body is rigid with tension. Harry wants to pull him into a hug, comfort him, but he’s not sure that would be welcome given what they’ve just found out.

 

He’d been so worried when Draco had collapsed that afternoon, he had rushed his unconscious mate to St. Mungos. And when the healer had told them that Draco would be fine, that he was just pregnant and that his body was just trying to adjust, that this fainting spell wasn’t that unexpected given that while Draco’s health was improving, he’d been severely malnourished not all that long ago…

 

Harry had had a moment of pure unencumbered joy, a moment of thrilled excitement... but then he’d looked at Draco… and he’d seen the fear and panic and… and... how much Draco does not want this. He’d only seen it for a brief moment before Draco’s expression had smoothed and gone carefully blank, so he can’t be sure but…

 

Fuck. He’d really fucked up.

 

He had just assumed that Draco would want kids, he’d never thought to ask. He should have made sure they talked about this sort of thing before… before they’d started having sex.

 

“Draco.” Harry says, his voice coming out hoarse. “We need to talk.”

 

Draco nods stiffly, and Harry leads him into the sitting room. Draco sinks wordlessly on to the couch, his back ramrod straight and his hands clenched in his lap. Harry debates for a moment before sitting on the floor in front of him. 

 

He wants to stand, wants to pace, but he knows that that will make Draco uncomfortable and, fuck does he not want to make this any worse than it already is.

 

He pulls at the fibers of the rug beneath him as he tries to figure out what to say, staring at its intricate pattern without seeing it. He’s still at a loss as to where to start when Draco speaks.

 

“Please-”

 

“Please… don’t make me get rid of it.” His mate pleads. “I’ll- I’ll do anything. Please.”

 

Harry looks up sharply, and he sees that the mask is gone. Draco is crying openly, and he has his arms curled around his belly protectively.

 

Harry can feel his heart breaking for his mate and he is already sitting on the couch and pulling Draco into his arms before he’s even realized he’s decided to move.

 

“Draco,” Harry says, pressing his nose to the top of Draco’s hair, “Of course, of course you can keep it if you want to.”

 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Draco. If.. if you want to terminate the pregnancy you can..” Draco sobs harder into Harry’s shirt at this, and Harry squeezes him tighter. “But if you want to… to have this baby that’s okay too.”

 

“Whatever you want.” Harry says.

 

Harry feels lost, he doesn’t understand what’s going on with Draco, and he doesn’t know how to help.

 

“I want… I want my baby.” Draco says shakily, still crying, arms still wrapped around himself.

 

“Okay, okay…” Harry says petting Draco’s hair and rocking them both slowly. “Then I will do everything I can to make it so.”

 

It takes a long while before Draco calms enough to try talking again.

 

“I'm sorry.” he says sounding miserable.

 

“You have nothing to be sorry about Draco.” Harry insists. “Im sorry, I should have talked to you about this sort of thing, instead of just assuming.”

 

“Its your body Draco, whatever you decide, I'll go along with.” Harry doesn’t want to say this, it’s the truth… he’d never force Draco to go through with something like this if he doesn’t want to… but… still. 

 

He hates that he’s put them in this position where they’re having this conversation now, instead of having had it when they should have.

 

Draco sounds resigned when he speaks up again. 

 

“Having a kid with… with me will cause problems for you in the future, so if… if you wanted to send us away… that would be understandable…” Draco says, struggling over the words.

 

Harry’s arms tighten around his mate.

 

“Why on earth would I send…” he still can’t refer to Draco’s pregnancy as his kid yet, not when he’s still half terrified that Draco doesn’t want to have a kid, “...you away?”

 

The thought of being away from his mate is painful enough, Draco hasn’t been back in Harry’s life all that long but the thought of being without him for any extended period of time… 

 

He can’t imagine any scenario where he’d want that, want to be away from his mate, away from their child.

 

“When you… when you get a proper mate they won’t like having us around, you’ll probably-” Draco starts, before Harry cuts him off.

 

“Proper mate?” Harry asks, only getting more confused and concerned as Draco speaks. “Draco, you are my mate.”

 

Draco shrugs. 

 

“For now.” he says, and Harry can hear the tears he is trying to hold back even though Draco’s face is hidden against his chest. “But eventually you’ll find a real mate.”

 

“Draco,” Harry speaks slowly, needing Draco to understand. “ You are my real mate, my proper mate, I don’t… I don’t want anyone else... and I'm never going to- to put you aside for someone else. I only want you-”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Draco interrupts, sounding angry. “You’re Harry Potter. You’re rich and fit and kind and you… you saved everyone... Harry. Everyone.”

 

“You should be with someone worthy of being your mate, not… not something like me.” Draco finishes, his disgust and self hatred clearly evident in his voice.

 

“Draco… you’re not… you’re not some disgusting thing… you’re someone... you’re someone who is smart and funny and so incredibly brave.” Harry says, throat constricting with emotions. “You’ve been through so much, you’ve survived so much Draco.”

 

“... and you are someone who I love and admire, and I chose you , over everyone else.”

 

“I want you by my side forever, and…” Harry takes a shaking breath “I want a family with you... whatever form that takes.”

 

Draco is crying again, silently this time, and shaking his head as if to deny what Harry is saying but when Harry pulls him into a kiss, trying to make him feel the sincerity of his words, Draco relents and kisses back almost immediately.

 

A long while later, when Draco’s head is resting against Harry’s chest and Harry is almost sure his mate has fallen asleep, Draco speaks up again.

 

“So.. so you’d really be okay with it? Being… being my mate? Raising a family with… with me?” Draco’s voice is quiet, disbelieving.

 

“Draco, I… I want that very much.” Harry says, wishing he knew some way to make Draco believe him. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

 

Draco is quiet, and Harry begins to wonder if he has fallen asleep but then the omega speaks up again, sounding vulnerable but… hopeful too.

 

“I think I’d really like that.”

 

Notes:

Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it.

Comments and kudos are always appreciated.

As a heads up I wont be posting the week of August 2nd, as I have family visiting and I'll be far too busy cleaning that week in preparation to be able to give that chapter the editing focus it deserves. Posting should resume as normal on the 9th.

Chapter 19

Notes:

Welcome back, hope you enjoy this chapter.

.::Harry::.

 

When Draco shows up in the kitchen the next morning for breakfast, he’s practically vibrating with nervous energy. Harry wants to go to him, and find some way to set those worries aside, but he doesn’t know if that’d be welcomed. 

 

“Morning” Harry says, not turning around. He tries to force some cheerfulness in his voice, and he hopes if Draco notices the hollow note to it that he just puts it to Harry not having had his morning fix of caffeine yet.

 

The thing is, he’d kind of thought, hoped really, that Draco would sleep with him in his room the night before. It’d been a trying day for both of them, they’d gotten such big news and he had thought that they had made such progress with their relationship, but when they’d reached the hallway outside their rooms Draco had turned and disappeared into his own rooms, with hardly a good night thrown over his shoulder.

 

Harry had been left standing alone in the hallway, confused and disappointed, but he didn't press the issue. 

 

Patience, time, he reminds himself. 

 

As he’d gotten ready for bed he had tried to tell himself that probably Draco just needed some space to think things over, but worry had gnawed at him late into the night.

 

Rubbing at his tired eyes, he tries to focus on the omelets he’s making for them, and not the burning feeling of Draco’s eyes on his back.

 

He’s not very successful, but the food still turns out ok. 

 

He’d already given Kreacher his omelet and shooed him away, not yet ready to have the pregnancy conversation with the house elf… not sure he ever would be…

 

So all that is left is to plate up his and Draco’s and take them to the table.

 

When he sets Draco’s down in front of him, already sliding the salt and pepper shakers towards him before he has a chance to ask, Draco shoots him a shy glancing smile and Harry’s heart thuds in his chest.

 

“Thanks” Draco says quietly, accepting the salt and pepper happily and adding his fill to the top of his omelet.

 

Harry isn’t sure where they stand, where Draco is at, emotionally speaking, but this is surely a good sign, he thinks. 

 

He hopes.

 

They eat quietly, aside from the occasional happy hum from Draco when he takes a bite he particularly enjoys, each quiet sound sending arousal spiking through Harry.

 

He wonders if he’ll ever get used to this, if the attraction he feels towards his mate will ever stop being so… consuming.

 

Harry wonders again how Draco ever thought he wasn’t serious about being his mate, he’s pretty sure he wanders around the house all day every day looking at Draco like he’d hung the stars. It’s certainly how he feels.

 

And again Harry berates himself for not making his affection, and intentions, clearer sooner. 

 

Eventually, finished eating, Draco puts down his utensils and dabs at his, still immaculately clean, face gently with his napkin.

 

“Harry.” Draco says, “I- I want to talk to you about something.”

 

Draco almost never speaks up first like this, and Harry feels worry clenching around his heart and throat. He’s not yet finished his omelet, but his appetite is gone, his throat gone dry with nerves. 

 

Harry sets down his own utensils, and nods at his mate.

 

Draco takes a deep breath, like he’s steeling himself for something, and Harry feels his worry reach new heights.

 

Under the table, Draco lifts one of his feet and places it in Harry’s lap.

 

“Look at the ankle.” Draco says cryptically.

 

Harry, confused, rolls down Draco’s sock so he can examine his ankle.

 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, Draco’s ankle doesn’t seem injured, but his anxiety rises anyway. “Are you hurt?”

 

He looks up to Draco’s face, hoping for answers, and sees that Draco is biting his lip and looking at him, searching Harry’s own face for some sort of reaction.

 

He’s not sure how he’s supposed to be reacting. Draco doesn’t seem injured, and as Harry runs his hand over the ankle in his lap to check again, Draco’s eyes slip closed and a contented sigh escapes him.

 

“That day…” Draco says suddenly, voice quiet, nervous, sure. “I’ve… I’ve been thinking about what the healer said…” 

 

Harry’s heart stutters. Had he changed his mind about the pregnancy?

 

“That day… when you saved me from the fiendfyre…” 

 

It’s not what Harry expects, and he can’t follow the jump in subjects. Harry’s hand clenches slightly, unconsciously, around Draco’s ankle. He still has nightmares about the fiendfyre sometimes… though not nearly as often now that Draco lives with him.

 

“While you were flying us out of there, I got burned a little… just on my ankle...” Draco says, eyes still closed. “I presented shortly after we parted ways.”

 

It takes Harry a moment to catch up to what Draco is implying, why he’s bringing all of this up, and when he does he feels like he can't breathe. 

 

“I… Are you saying… the other bond, was with... me?” He asks, not sure what answer he wants to hear.

 

Draco nods, then says, voice dripping with trepidation.

 

“It’s the only possibility that makes any sense.”

 

Fuck.

 

This whole time. Draco had been in so much pain because of a bond to him. He hadn’t known. But his mate had been in pain and had been so mistreated and…

 

And he’d done nothing.

 

“Draco, I had no idea.” he says voice breaking under the weight of his emotions. “I’m so sorry.”

 

Draco shakes his head and brushes away the apology like it doesn’t matter, like he doesn’t need it.

 

“The healer told me, after she sent you off to go do paperwork…” Draco says, eyes still closed. “I don't think she wanted to upset you... but she told me… that as much as it hurt to have two bonds...”

 

Harry’s heart aches, it was his fault. His fault his mate had been in pain.

 

“That the bond that stuck around probably… probably saved me.”

 

Harry’s breath catches in his throat.

 

“I wanted so badly, early in… that time… for you to save me.” Draco says, and then he opens his eyes and meets Harry’s causing Harry’s stomach to do somersaults with the intensity of his gaze.

 

“And you did .”

 

.::Draco::.

 

Harry looks thunderstruck. Draco can’t really blame him. 

 

It’s been a crazy week, and this at least is something Draco has had some time to come to terms with himself. The rest…

 

Draco bites his lip.

 

The rest still feels like too much. His brain shies away from the intensity with which he wants to believe that Harry genuinely considers him his mate, that he will never be put aside and that they… that they can raise this child, their child, together. 

 

It still feels like it can’t be real. 

 

He doesn’t doubt Harry’s sincerity, but… surely things can’t just work out.

 

His life just isn’t like that.

 

These thoughts are pointless and stressful, so for now he puts them aside.

 

Draco stands and crosses around the end of the table until he’s standing before Harry.

 

It feels weird to be looking down on an alpha like this, and he almost feels like he should apologize, but instead he goes forward with his plan.

 

He leans down and pulls Harry into a kiss. 

 

The alpha sighs into the kiss, immediately returning it. Draco’s eyes flutter closed, and he can feel the warmth of Harry’s hands on his hips through the layers of clothes.

 

He wants to get lost in this moment. 

 

But eventually he pulls away, resting his forehead against Harry’s.

 

Draco’s hands shake with how nervous he is, and Harry, no doubt feeling the tremors where Draco’s hands rest against his cheek and chest, turns confused eyes on him.

 

“Are… are we okay?” Draco manages to force himself to ask. It’s not enough, it doesn’t properly encompass all the things he wants to ask, all the things he needs Harry to confirm.

 

“Yes.” Harry says, so sure of his answer.

 

Draco tries to swallow down the tears threatening to overwhelm him, and wonders if its too early to blame his wildly out of control emotions on the pregnancy.

 

“Draco,” Harry says, brushing the tip of his nose affectionately against Draco’s “I love you.”

 

Draco’s heart flutters. 

 

Somehow it’s all the answer he needed, to all of the questions he couldn’t ask. 

Notes:

Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it. As a reminder I'm not going to be posting next week (aug 2nd) but should resume the following week.

Comments and kudos appreciated.

Chapter 20

Notes:

Thank you for your patience, I hope you enjoy.

.::Draco::.

“Draco… can I take this off?” Harry asks hesitantly, fingertips skimming underneath the hem of Draco’s shirt.

 

Draco bites his lip, he doesn’t want to. He’d volunteered taking off his trousers and pants, that was just practical and he’d found that he much preferred the range of positions they could manage if he didn’t have those on, but his shirt…

 

There just isn’t any practical reason why they need that off, and he… he still doesn’t want Harry to see any more of him than he has to.

 

“I… I guess… if you want to.” Draco stutters. 

 

He can feel Harry’s eyes searching his face, and fights the impulse to turn away from that gaze.

 

“Draco…” Harry says, nuzzling his face against Draco’s neck in a way that makes Draco’s heart flutter. “It’s your choice. It’s okay if the answer is no.”

 

Draco’s throat constricts. 

 

He hasn’t been punished once since coming to live with Harry, he reminds himself. Harry said that he thinks of Draco as his mate, his proper mate. Harry told him that he loves him. 

 

He takes a few deep breaths, and lets the alpha’s scent comfort him.

 

“I- I don’t want you to see.” He manages to say, hands shaky where they rest against Potter’s own bare chest.

 

“Because of the scars?” Harry asks, giving their bond mark one more quick kiss before lifting his head to better look at Draco’s face.

 

Draco’s throat feels tight with anxiety again and he nods.

 

Harry sighs and presses a kiss to Draco’s forehead.

 

“Thank you for telling me Draco.” Harry says, and Draco briefly lets himself bask in the warmth of the alpha’s words, his alpha he reminds himself. “And if you want to keep the shirt on that’s okay, but…

 

Harry presses kisses to Draco’s nose and cheeks.

 

“I don’t care about the scars, they don’t bother me.” Harry says, his fingertips tracing along some of the faded bond marks on Draco’s leg.

 

Draco shivers. 

 

“I- they’re... ugly… and shameful…” Draco says, barely managing to remember to switch the ‘I’ for ‘they’, knowing the later will upset the alpha less.

 

“Draco…” Harry says sitting back on his heels. Draco immediately misses his warmth.

 

Harry just looks down at him for a moment, thinking. Draco tries not to fidget anxiously.

 

Eventually, maybe noticing Draco’s discomfort, Harry sighs and leans back over Draco to nuzzle against their bond mark reassuringly. 

 

“Do you want me to put my shirt back on?” Harry asks quietly.

 

Draco immediately shakes his head ‘no’. Why would he want that?

 

“I have scars too.” Harry says, as if hearing Draco’s unasked question.

 

Draco swallows. Harry does have scars, loads of them. Weird ones, magic ones, barely-even-there-any-more ones, but… Harry’s scars are different then Draco’s. He traces the starburst scar on the center of Harry’s chest with his fingertip, biting his lip.

 

Harry’s scars are from saving the world, accidents at school, quidditch… they tell the story of a life that has had value… merit... 

 

Draco’s scars tell a very different story. One Draco is sick of hearing.

 

“It’s different.” Draco says. It’s all he can manage.

 

“Not to me it isn’t.” Harry says, voice gone rough with emotions.

 

“Draco,” Harry continues, lips so close to their bond mark that Draco can feel them brush as he speaks, “I love every inch of you.”

 

Draco’s heart stutters in his chest.

 

Harry pulls back and he manages to catch Draco’s eye before he has a chance to look away. Draco just lays there, feeling frozen in place by the intensity he can see in Harry’s eyes.

 

Harry searches Draco’s eyes for a moment, before pressing his lips to Draco’s. Draco’s eyes flutter closed a moment after Harry’s, and he gives himself over to the feeling of the kiss.

 

Harry, true to his words, doesn’t press the shirt issue. He doesn’t ask again, and he doesn’t try to remove the shirt. He just goes back to kissing Draco the way he had been before.

 

Draco’s glad for it, at first. He lets himself relax back into the bed beneath him, Harry a warm solid presence above him as the alpha slowly drives Draco mad with kisses.

 

Draco is making a mess of the bed, he’s sure of it. He can feel the slick leaking out of him and onto the bed sheets. But if Harry notices, he doesn’t seem to care, he just keeps kissing Draco, a hand occasionally ghosting along Draco’s side or leg, but his hips frustratingly always out of reach of Draco’s.

 

“H-Harry… please…” Draco whines.

 

Harry groans, his hips twitch, the tip of his erection just barely skimming against Draco’s thigh even as he tries to reign in his reaction.

 

“Please what?” Harry asks, lips brushing against Draco’s ear as he speaks. “Whatever you want.”

 

Draco shivers, heat flooding his face with a blush.

 

“I… I want you… I want your knot.” Draco says, desire making it easier to push past the embarrassment. 

 

Harry tenses, and pulls away from Draco, searching his face.

 

“Would… would that be okay?” Harry asks, sounding worried.

 

Draco’s confusion must show on his face because Harry clarifies a moment later.

 

“What with… with the pregnancy and all…” Harry is blushing now, and Draco catches him dart a glance down towards Draco’s belly before looking back at his face.

 

“Oh.” Draco says. If he’s honest, he'd been kind of caught up in all of this and the memory of Harry’s ‘I love you’ earlier and he had kind of somewhat forgotten about that particular bit of big news.

 

“Oh yeah, that should be fine.” Draco says, and when Harry still seems unsure he adds. “I promise.”

 

“Okay.” Harry says, like Draco promising is enough for him, and Draco realizes, as Harry leans back down and resumes kissing him, that maybe it is.

 

When Harry’s questing fingers find Draco’s entrance to check if he is ready to go Harry rumbles happily. 

 

“So good… how’d I ever get so lucky?” Harry mumbles against Draco’s shoulder as he lines himself up.

 

Draco lets himself bask in the warmth of the alpha’s praise, as Harry pushes in. 

 

The slow slide of Harry’s cock feels amazing, and Draco arches his back pressing up against Harry’s bare chest and pushing back against Harry’s cock pulling it in deeper faster.

 

Harry gasps against Draco’s neck.

 

Now that he knows, well... he strongly suspects, that he’s allowed to, Draco can’t get enough of touching Harry. And as his hands glide over the shifting muscles of Harry’s back as he thrusts into Draco again and again, Draco wonders for the first time if maybe there is a practical reason to be shirtless.

 

He’d certainly be able to have far more skin to skin contact with Harry if it wasn’t for the shirt he is wearing.

 

“H-Harry” Draco manages to gasp out, trying to get the alpha’s attention. 

 

Harry rumbles happily in response, grinding extra deep and nipping at their bond mark. Realizing the miscommunication, Draco tries again.

 

“Harry no I-” Harry freezes, and when he turns worried green eyes on Draco, Draco realizes he has messed up again.

 

“No, I- I’m fine I just… I want this off.” Draco says, pulling at the hem of his shirt.

 

Harry looks relieved for the clarification, and he sighs and takes a moment to just breathe before he asks.

 

“Are you sure? You don’t have to.” 

 

Draco thinks about it again, then nods. 

 

Harry, still inside him, sits back on his heels.

 

“Do you want-” Harry starts to ask but Draco has his shirt off and tossed somewhere on the floor before he can even finish.

 

Draco can’t look at Harry’s reaction. He avoids looking in mirrors as much as possible, but he’s still pretty sure he has a good idea of what he looks like. And… it’s not great.

 

When he’d decided about the shirt he’d just been thinking about touching, about more skin on skin contact. He hadn’t really accounted for the amount of time Harry would look at him.

 

He’s just started to regret his decision when Harry surprises him by pressing a kiss to the center of Draco’s chest. 

 

“Merlin, I love you Draco.” Harry mumbles against Draco’s skin.

 

Draco’s heart thunders so loudly in his chest he’s sure Harry must be able to feel it.

 

Harry starts moving his hips again, but his mouth doesn’t return to Draco’s neck. Instead his lips dance across what newly exposed parts of Draco he can reach. His tongue licks broad stripes across Draco’s nipple, causing Draco to gasp in surprise from the feeling of it. Then he pulls it into his mouth and sucks, causing Draco to shudder and whine.

 

Harry rumbles happily, and gives Draco’s other nipple the same treatment. 

 

He kisses and licks at every inch of Draco’s chest his mouth can reach, his tongue tracing the overlapping scars from past bond marks. 

  

Draco shudders helplessly below him, and he’s honestly not sure how much longer he can last against this new onslaught. 

 

Luckily for him, it seems he’s not the only one who is enjoying the result of his impulsive decision, and it’s not long before he feels Harry’s knott beginning to swell.

 

“So good, so beautiful.” Harry is mumbling in between pressing kisses all across Draco’s skin.

 

Draco can’t hold back his whimper at the praise, but the sound only seems to please his mate.

 

Harry’s having trouble keeping up the onslaught on Draco’s chest, as he keeps having to pause to gasp desperately against Draco’s overheated skin. 

 

Harry shifts, his mouth meets Draco’s. Draco kisses back as best he can manage and Harry groans in response.

 

Harry’s lips make their way to Draco’s ear, and when he speaks his voice is ragged from exertion as he continues to thrust and grind into Draco.

 

“I love you.” He says. 

 

Draco shivers. He’s so close.

 

Harry’s mouth moves down Draco’s neck, and when his teeth sink into their bond mark Draco’s orgasm crashes over him.

 

Harry’s follows swiftly after.

 

Later, when they’re more settled and starting to calm down, still tied together, Draco hesitantly asks.

 

“Are… are you sure this is what you want?”

 

Harry chuckles, and Draco is not sure how he’s supposed to take that.

 

“Draco…” Harry says, voice soft, an arm wrapped around Draco’s middle as they cuddle on the bed. “In this moment I have everything I have ever wanted here in my arms. Yes I’m sure.”

 

“What… what do you mean?” Draco asks. It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. He knows it's pointless to try to make sense of Potter but still…

 

“I… I’ve always wanted this.” Harry answers. “A mate, a family.”

 

“I- I’ve had a lot of offers.” Harry admits, and Draco’s heart sinks.

 

“But none of them ever seemed… right? I don’t know… but it was different with you. It just, it felt right.”

 

Alphas aren’t compelled by their bonds to stay faithful to their mates, but still, Draco’s sure that what Harry’s describing has something to do with their lingering bond. Even so, there’s comfort in his words and in the weight of his arm around Draco, and, for once, Draco is the first to fall asleep.

Notes:

Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it.

Comments and kudos appreciated. <3<3

Chapter 21

Notes:

Sorry this chapter is getting posted a little later than usual it appears I'm running a bit behind today.

Hope you enjoy~

.::Draco::.

 

“Draco stop fretting. You look fine.” Harry says, and Draco glares at him through the mirror.

 

Harry just smiles back at him, the git.

 

Draco goes back to adjusting his shirt to try to hide his baby bump. It’s still pretty small, but it seems like its getting bigger and more noticeable by the day and Draco can't help but feel very self conscious about it.

 

“Draco,” Harry says with a sigh. “I know this is important but you already look beautiful and we really do need to go.”

 

Draco, cheeks pinking at the compliment, sighs and decides that it really will do no good to be late.

 

Harry helps Draco into his coat, and tucks him under his arm when they step outside. Once outside the wards, he pulls Draco even closer and apparates them to an alley around the corner from the cafe they are headed to. 

 

Draco holds onto Harry tightly while he waits for the world to stop spinning around him. Apparation is becoming increasingly unpleasant as the pregnancy goes on.

 

Once the world has stilled he looks up, glancing around the deserted side street Harry had apparated them to. Being outdoors still makes him uncomfortable, but it’s getting easier with practice. There are people walking by on the busier cross street down at the corner, but on their end of the street they are alone. He shifts the collar of his jacket higher, hoping to ward off strangers staring at his scars.

 

“Alright?” Harry asks.

 

Draco considers it a moment before he nods.

 

“Yes.”  

 

They walk to the busier road, Draco once again tucked under Harry's arm. It only takes a few minutes to walk to the cafe, and none of the muggles passing them seem to notice Dracos scars.

 

When they arrive at the cafe, the people they are there to meet have already arrived and are seated stiffly at a small table well away from the other patrons.

 

Draco’s breath catches in his throat as he sees his parents for the first time in years. Harry squeezes his shoulder gently and guides him over to the table.

 

They look the same as he remembers them, just... older, more so then they really ought to… as if the stress of looking for him has added years to them.

 

His father, when he spots them, eyes them suspiciously but manages to otherwise keep his face politely blank. His mother’s eyes shine with unshed tears when she spots her son.

 

“Draco.” She says, making a move to get up and go to him but she’s stopped by her husband's hand on her shoulder.

 

“Mother.” Draco greets with a nod, his voice rough with emotions. 

 

Harry pulls out a seat for Draco before dropping inelegantly into the seat next to him. Harry drapes his arm across Dracos shoulders and lets his hand brush lightly against their bond mark. It's a comforting gesture, and Draco, whose nerves already feel very frayed, appreciates it. 

 

“Mr Malfoy, Mrs Malfoy. It's good to see you both.” Harry says politely. 

 

Draco’s mother, still misty eyed, stares at him. She is studying every visible inch like she's trying to memorize him. His father stares seriously at Potter and almost seems to be refusing to look at him.

 

His stomach turns nervously.

 

The server appears at that moment, and Harry orders for the both of them. A coffee for himself and a pastry for Draco.

 

His efforts to make Draco fat seem to have redoubled now that he knows Draco is pregnant, and he never misses an opportunity to make sure Draco eats. Not that Draco minds entirely, if he's honest.

 

The table is silent while they wait for the server to come back, but when she has left their food and drinks his father jumps right into things.

 

“So, Mr. Potter have you reconsidered my offers? As I have written to you several times, my wife and I will do anything you require to-”

 

“Yes I recall.” Harry says interrupting. Draco can see his father's nostrils flare, the only visible indication of his anger. “I also recall telling you several times in our written exchanges that Draco is my mate and as such I will not be sending him away. Not even to his parents.”

 

Draco had never worked up the courage to send his parents a letter. Harry though, had continued to correspond with them. 

 

It would seem that tensions between the two alphas had been steadily growing though, which is why Harry had asked Draco if it was okay if he set up today. 

 

Harry hoped that if Draco’s parents actually got a chance to see that Draco was fine and that Harry was taking care of him, that that might finally convince Lucius that he is genuine in claiming Draco as his mate.

 

“Father.” Draco says hesitantly, not sure what he will see when his father looks at him properly for the first time.

 

Lucius’ expression remains the polite mask it has been this whole time, but Draco can see great depths of emotions in his eyes briefly before they become too closed off and glacial. 

 

The intensity of the guilt he sees there shocks him, and he understands then that his father blames himself for all the things Draco has been through, and all the things he imagines Draco is still going through.

 

He cant speak past the emotions choking him for a moment, and he has to take a sip of his water before continuing.

 

“Father… this isn't exactly what I imagined for my future, and getting here was... not pleasant I'll admit, but I'm actually quite happy with Harry. He.. He takes good care of me and… and he makes me feel valued.” Draco can feel a blush burning across his cheeks and flat out refuses to acknowledge the sappy look Harry is no doubt giving him.

 

“Im happy. Very happy. Harry is a good mate. We’ve… we’ve decided to start a family.”

 

Narcissa makes a surprised noise, obviously spotting the hand Draco has subconsciously placed over his belly.

 

“Oh Draco, are you pregnant?” She asks.

 

Draco nods, blush worsening.

 

He glances at his father who is looking away and seems to be trying to compose himself.

 

“Are.. Are you excited?” Narcissa asks, hesitantly.

 

“Yes.” Draco says, turning his attention back to her. “I’m… I’m very nervous too… but yes. I’m excited.”

 

“Oh Draco… I'm so happy for you.” Narcissa says, tears in her eyes.

 

She launches into so much pregnancy and baby talk it makes Draco’s head spin, he tries to pay attention but he's sure he misses at least half of it.

 

It honestly just feels so nice to hear her voice again, and he lets the sound of it wash over him soothingly.

 

He glances at Harry while he and his mother talk, and is greeted by such a look of love and adoration it makes his heart stutter and he wonders how he ever thought Harry wasn't serious in his affection. 

 

Notes:

Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it.

Comments/kudos/etc always appreciated. <3

Chapter 22

Notes:

Just a very short chapter this week, hope you enjoy anyway.

.::Draco::.

 

“Harry it’s traditional.” Draco says with fond exasperation.

 

“I know, I know…” Harry says, nuzzling Draco’s neck as they lay sprawled out on their bed. “It’s just... it’s important… and you’re so much better at this sort of thing then me… I don’t want to mess it up.”

 

They’ve had this conversation before.

 

“I know, but… it’s traditional for the alpha parent to chose the name. It’s important to me.” Draco says, squeezing Harry’s hand where it’s resting on his swollen belly.

 

“Okay.” Harry says, surprising Draco. He’d expected more whining. “But, is it okay if you help me?”

 

“Just..” Harry continues, not giving Draco a chance to protest. “If I tell you what kinds of names I’m thinking of, could you help me come up with some options, and then I’ll choose from there?”

 

Draco thinks about this a moment, Harry would be ultimately deciding… he doesn’t suppose there is any problem with helping him with ideas.

 

“Okay” Draco concedes.

 

Harry beams at him, causing Draco to blush and look away.

 

“I was thinking if it was a girl we could go with a flower name since both of our mums sort of have flower names…” Harry says, sounding nervous. “And for a boy I was thinking maybe some sort of star or constellation name… if you’d think that’d be okay?”

 

He looks so nervous as he waits for Draco’s response and Draco’s affection for this man, his mate, threatens to overwhelm him.

 

“I think that’d be wonderful Harry.” Draco says, pleased with the realization that for all his reluctance and whining Harry has actually been putting thought into this.

 

“Okay, so you’ll help me come up with some ideas?” Harry asks. 

 

“Yeah, we can make a list of options for each.” Draco says.

 

Harry pulls him into a kiss, and Draco is pretty sure he couldn’t be happier, warm and safe with the man he loves, planning for their growing little family.

Notes:

Name suggestions are totally welcome btw.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed, comments and kudos appreciated.

Chapter 23

Notes:

Sorry for the delay on this, some personal things came up and i ended up not being able to post as planned. Thanks for sticking with it though,

hope you enjoy!

.::Harry::.

 

“Harry” 

 

It’s a breathy needy whisper, barely audible even in the quiet of their dark room, but it’s enough to startle Harry awake.

 

“What?” he asks, confused and still half asleep “What’s wrong?”

 

Draco whines and presses back against him.

 

Merlin he’s so wet, and his skin is so warm… feverish almost.

 

It hits him finally what is going on, Draco is in heat.

 

“Oh.” 

 

Draco presses back against him again.

 

“Want you so badly.” The omega whines.

 

Harry’s hips jerk of their own accord, pressing his aching cock harder against his mate’s ass. 

 

Merlin this is different, he thinks. 

 

This is only Draco’s second heat since coming to live with Harry, since his heats had stopped while he was pregnant and for a few months after, and it is already vastly different than his first one.

 

He swallows down a moan at the slick slide of Draco wiggling against him, and he forces himself to get up.

 

Draco makes a terrified noise and tries to pull him back. 

 

He catches Draco’s hands in his and kisses them both.

 

“I’m sorry love.” He says “I will be back as soon as I can be, I promise. I just need to get Delilah to your parents so your mom can watch her while you’re in heat. I will be right back, I promise.”

 

Draco’s eyes clear a bit and he nods, biting his lip to keep down another whimper.

 

It’s been the plan for a while, for Delilah to spend Draco’s next heat with her grandparents. Neither Draco nor Harry would be well equipped to take care of her while Draco is in heat, and they had built a pretty good relationship with Draco’s parents during the pregnancy. Draco’s parents adore Delilah, and while things are still sometimes tense between Harry and Lucius, he suspects that that will always be true and is just a fact that one has to live with when mated to Lucius’ child.

 

Harry hastily grabs some clothes off the floor, throwing them on haphazardly as he makes his way to the door. He pauses a moment in the adjoining nursery to collect himself as best he can. He grabs the bag they had prepared of Delilah’s belongings and then crosses to the crib. She is sleeping peacefully, but when Harry picks her up she blinks awake and burbles at him happily. She’s the least fussy baby Harry’s ever met, and everyone who meets her seems to adore her.

 

Overwhelmed by love and affection he gently brushes her soft baby hair back from her face and kisses her forehead.

 

He had thought he couldn’t love anyone as much as he loves his mate, until the day that Delilah came into their lives.

 

He wraps her up snuggly in a blanket, carries her outside of the wards, and apparates them to the manor. Once there, he reluctantly passes Delilah over to a delighted Narcissa. 

 

Lucius looks a little green, but he doesn’t comment.

 

Harry can’t imagine what it must be like, knowing what Harry and his son are likely to be getting up to as soon as Harry returns. 

 

Merlin he does not look forward to having to potentially deal with that sort of thing when Delilah is older.

 

He apparates back to Grimmauld, and the smell that hits him as soon as he steps inside is by itself enough to bring his erection back to full hardness. 

 

He heads directly to their bedroom.

 

When he opens the door his eyes are immediately drawn to his mate. Draco has pushed aside the blanket and has one hand wrapped around his cock and the other pushing into himself.

 

Harry sways in the doorway, a fresh wave of arousal overwhelming him.

 

“H-Harry” Draco whines when he sees him, his hips jerking back against the hand inside him. “Nnngh… it’s- it’s not enough… please.”

 

Harry moves towards the bed, shedding his clothes as he goes. When he reaches the bed he nudges Draco to encourage him to roll onto his stomach and then crawls onto the bed behind him, between his spread legs.

 

Draco whines and shifts beneath him, seemingly caught between rubbing himself against the bed below him or pushing his ass up towards Harry.

 

“Please, please Harry please-” Draco is murmuring on repeat, his hands twisting into the sheets beneath him.

 

It’s the single most arousing thing Harry has ever seen. Draco, his mate, so disheveled and desperate, excess slick leaking from him and creating a shining trail downwards, his voice shaking as he begs for Harry.

 

Harry wants to make Draco feel as good as Draco makes him feel. Harry wants to make it so Draco enjoys this heat. The need to please his mate, his love, is just as consuming as ever.

 

Harry grips Draco’s cheeks, and spreads them apart exposing his leaking hole. Harry rumbles happily at the sight. This is his, Draco is his, and he is going to make Draco feel so good. 

 

He licks a broad stripe along the crease. Darco gasps in shock, his hands clenching tighter into the sheets and his hips pushing back against the pressure of Harry’s tongue as it passes over his asshole.

 

Draco’s slick tastes delicious. 

 

Harry laps at it, at Draco’s hole, and Draco sobs and whines below him, desperate for something to be inside him. Harry licks and nips at the outside a few more times before giving in to Draco’s want and pressing his tongue inside of him. 

 

Draco keens and presses back against Harry’s face, trying to draw him in deeper. 

 

Draco doesn’t really need to be prepped or stretched or anything, his body is already more than ready, but Harry wants to make this good, wants this heat to be fantastic. He lets himself enjoy the taste of his mate, the feel of him around his tounge, and the desperate whines that he makes. 

 

“Please, please Harry.” Draco starts up the begging again, in between his whimpers and groans.

 

Harry pulls his mouth away, and Draco sobs at the loss of the tongue inside him.

 

“Please what?” Harry asks, moving so he’s leaning above Draco and can whisper his questions in his ear. “What do you want?”

 

Harry knows the answer already, but he never tires of hearing Draco ask.

 

“Please- I want your knot please.” Draco gasps out, his hips shifting as he tries to press up against Harry. 

 

“Okay.” Harry says with a smile, nuzzling against their bond mark. “Anything for my good boy.”

 

Draco shudders at being called a good boy, and Harry shifts his weight to one hand so he can use the other to line himself up with Draco’s hole.

 

He pushes in slowly, enjoying the feeling of sinking into his mate. Draco immediately tries to push back against him, to draw him in deeper faster, but Harry, anticipating this, grips his hip and holds him in place so he can go as slowly as he wants to. 

 

Once buried to the hilt in Draco, he stills. Draco whines and shifts beneath him, and Harry nuzzles against Draco’s neck trying to soothe him. 

 

“It’s okay,” Harry says quietly. “It’s okay, I promise I’m going to take care of you. You just gotta give me a moment.”

 

Draco whines but stills.

 

A pleased rumble goes through Harry at his mate’s compliance and, when he feels like he can move without all of this ending prematurely Harry sits back up and starts to pull out watching as Draco’s hole clings to him as he slowly pulls out all but the very tip.

 

He thrusts back in shallowly before pulling out again, his eyes glued to where their bodies connect. 

 

“Merlin, I love the way you take my cock Draco.” Harry says, glancing at Draco’s face in time to see the pleased flush of his cheeks before he buries his face against the pillow. 

 

Harry smiles moving forward again so his chest is over Draco’s back and he can nuzzle against Draco’s face where he’s trying to hide. 

 

“I love you Draco.” Harry says. “I’m going to make you feel so good. I promise.”

 

He thrusts forward again, burying himself all the way. He repeats the action, again and again, hitting Draco’s prostate as often as he can. It’s not long before Draco is little more than a writhing whining mess below him, and Harry rumbles happily over pleasuring his mate.

 

“So good Draco, you’re so good to me.” Harry murmurs against Draco’s neck. “I’m going to cum inside you, knot you, over and over again. By the end of your heat you’re going to be so full of my seed there’s no way you wont be pregnant again.”

 

Draco whines and pushes back against Harry harder, drawing him in deeper. 

 

Harry rumbles happily.

 

“Yeah, you want that baby? You want to be fat with my cub again? You want to give little Delilah a younger sibling?” He asks, voice shaking with desire as this plays into both of their heat encouraged instincts.

 

They’d talked about it before, after Delilah was born. About whether or not they wanted more and if so, when. Harry had been surprised by Draco’s willingness to have another as soon as possible, and Harry had certainly had no objections. 

 

He’d always loved the idea of a big family, he just hadn’t expected that Draco would want that too. 

 

“Yes! Yes Harry please. Please.” Draco practically sobs beneath him. “I want your cum, I want your babies.”

 

Harry groans against Draco’s shoulder. He can feel his knot beginning to swell. He starts grinding his hips against Draco’s, pressing against his prostate as much as possible. 

 

“Good boy” Harry says, voice ragged with arousal and exertion, before he sinks his teeth into their bond mark.  

 

Draco comes with a shudder and a whine, and Harry follows swiftly after.

 

As they lay spooning, trying to recover their breath, Harry takes stock of how Draco is doing. His sweat soaked skin is still feverish, though it is cooler than before, and his eyes seem clearer.

 

“How are you feeling? Any pain?” Harry asks.

 

Draco smiles at him tiredly. 

 

“No pain. Just… tired. And… I guess it's still weird to think this is how a heat is supposed to feel.” Draco says. “I’m not used to it.”

 

“Well you better get used to it” Harry says. “Because I’m never letting you have a bad heat again.”

 

Draco chuckles softly, and his smile makes Harry’s breath catch.

 

“I love you Harry.” Draco says fondly.

 

“I love you too.” Harry says back, just as fondly. 

  

 

Notes:

This is the end of the fic, I hope you enjoyed it. If you're interested in more please feel free to let me know in comments or on twitter. I'm not sure when I'll feel up for it but I wouldn't be opposed to adding more scenes if theres anything you wanted to see, and I'm also always open to new fic ideas.

I currently have a bonus chapter planned to celebrate that we reached a kudos milestone, but I don't yet know when I'll be able to get that finished so its up to you if you want to keep this fic bookmarked for that.

Thank you so much for reading and I really hope you enjoyed, comments and kudos so appreciated.

Chapter 24: Bonus Chapter #1

Notes:

We reached a kudos goal a while back so here's a soft little Christmas themed bonus chapter. Hope you enjoy~

.::Draco::.

 

It’s seven pm on Christmas Eve, and Draco knows Harry is hoping they can get Delilah to bed soon. They have a big day tomorrow, between visiting the Burrow and Draco’s parents, and a well rested toddler is a better behaved toddler.

 

Harry’s only just gotten a wiggly Delilah changed into her new pajamas that they had just opened. Draco hangs back in the doorway, watching his mate and their child as they play together on the rug before the fire. The carefully wrapped present clutched behind his back temporarily forgotten as he watches the happy scene before him. 

 

Between the war, and his time when he’d been captured, Draco spent so long, so much of his life, thinking that a life like this, happiness like this, could never be his. That it wasn’t real, or at least it was something reserved for things far more deserving than something like him. 

 

“Draco?” Harry asks, he’s still playing with Delilah but now he’s looking at Draco with concern.

 

Draco still has bad moments. 

 

Times when the fear and the pain of his past overwhelms him. Times when it feels like he’s still broken, like he’ll never be fixed. Times when he’s still scared and distrustful of any alpha, even the ones he knows wont hurt him. 

 

But those times pass. 

 

Harry helps bring him back, or Delilah. 

 

Draco wipes his face with the hand not hiding the present behind his back, and is only mildly surprised to find there are tears on his cheeks.

 

“I’m okay.” Draco says, reassuring his mate. “Just happy.”

 

Draco can tell Harry is still at least a little worried, sees him glance at where Draco is clearly hiding something behind his back, but the alpha doesn’t press for more information. He trusts Draco to tell him if there’s anything he needs to know, and this thought warms Draco almost as much as the sound of their daughter’s giggle a moment later.

 

Draco makes his way into the room, keeping the present hidden as he carefully sits on the edge of the couch. He bites his lip nervously. 

 

“I- I have one more present I thought we should open tonight.” Draco says, pulling the neatly wrapped present from behind his back.

 

Delilah’s eyes light up. She’s young enough to still be more interested in the wrapping paper than the presents mostly, but she loves wrapping paper.

 

“I thought we were just doing the pajamas tonight and saving the rest for tomorrow?” Harry asks with a raised brow, but he’s already encouraging Delilah to toddle across the rug towards Draco.

 

“Yeah, but I thought this one would be a good one for tonight too.” Draco says. “You’ll see.”

 

Harry moves closer once he’s sure Delilah has managed to get a hold on the couch next to Draco. He rests his head on Draco’s knee, and Draco lets his fingers comb through his mate’s perpetually unruly hair while they watch Delilah tear into the present. 

 

She gets it open pretty quickly, and, like Draco expected, completely ignores the picture book that falls out in favor of further tearing the wrapping paper. 

 

Harry pics the book up though, and looks it over.

 

“I- I thought you could read it to her tonight before bed.” Draco says, trying his best to keep the nervousness out of his voice. “She loves when you read her a bedtime story.”

 

When Harry grins up at him, it makes Draco’s heart skip a beat. Harry reaches up to pull Draco down into a sweet kiss.

 

“Thank you, it was a wonderful idea.” Harry says, pulling away only just enough to speak. Draco can feel the blush burning across his cheeks.

 

The sound of Delilah blowing a raspberry pulls their attention back to her.

 

“Gwoss” she says, frowning dramatically at them, before giggling a moment later and crawling into Harry’s lap. 

 

She’s been spending too much time around Ginny, Draco thinks.

 

Around twenty minutes later Delilah’s laying in her bed, with Harry seated beside her and reading the book Draco gave her. Draco’s standing nearby, still trying not to let his nervousness show. He can tell he’s not succeeding one hundred percent, because of the questioning glances Harry keeps sending him. 

 

Draco hopes he isn’t too distracted to get the point of Draco’s present.

 

Delilah is already nodding off, always so quick to fall asleep when Harry reads to her. 

 

“... and that is how I became a big sister.” Harry reads from the book, turning to the next page, fully ready to just keep reading but instead he just freezes and stares at the page before him blankly.

 

Draco chews on his bottom lip nervously as he watches his mate. Draco knows what’s on that page. He’s looked at it himself plenty since he’d bought the customized book. 

 

Harry looks up at him, finally, after what feels to Draco like ages of simply staring down at the book. He has tears in his eyes and a hopeful expression on his face.

 

“Really?” He asks. 

 

Draco can only manage to nod.

 

A moment later Harry has lifted Draco off the ground in a hug, his happy laughter filling the room as he spins Draco around in his arms. 

 

“You’re happy?” Draco asks, when they slow to a stop and Harry sets him down again. 

 

“Of course.” Harry says, cupping Draco’s face with his hand and pulling him into a kiss. “Are you?”

 

“Yes.” Draco says, honestly. “I’m so happy.”

 

The book, left forgotten on the floor is still open to the page Harry had been staring at, the positive results of Draco’s pregnancy test printed across it. 

Notes:

Might do a few more of these maybe, I have a few other ideas.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed. Comments and kudos always appreciated.

(also if you have name suggestions for baby #2 that'd be cool, otherwise i might just go back and choose another from the ones people already gave.)

Chapter 25: Bonus Chapter #2

Notes:

It’s been a long time! But I finally got around to finishing another bonus chapter. Also, this fic got a spanish translation! I’m so excited and thankful. It’s thanks to that that I found the motivation to finish this bonus chapter.
Thanks to the hard work of Dragonlytherin, a spanish translation can now be found here.
Also sorry in advance to any Jeremy’s out there. I just chose a random name.

 

“Draco, it's not that big of a deal.” Harry says as they come through the doors to Grimmauld Place. He’s holding a pouting Delilah’s hand and Draco is carrying little Cyrus. “They’re kids. Biting is pretty normal, and you know they’re far too young for any sort of bond or anything to form.”

 

Harry bends down in the entryway to help Delilah with her coat but she’s pouting and wont let him.

 

“Delilah, honey, we need to take your coat off.” Harry says to her gently. 

 

He’s always gentle, with all of them. 

 

It’s one of the things Draco loves about his mate, but also something he’s jealous of. 

 

Gentleness doesn’t come easily to him. He loves his mate, he loves their kids. He would die for any of them, gladly. 

 

But he’s still more prickly than your average cactus. 

 

“Biting is unbecoming of a young lady.” Draco says, primly. “Delilah I know you know how to behave better than that.”

 

“Jeremy deserved it!” His daughter yells as she stomps her foot. 

 

Harry finally manages to get her coat off.

 

“I’m sure he did that kid is a little-” Draco starts, but falters when Harry shoots him a look. 

 

They’ve been trying to watch their language in front of the kids. Delilah already picks up enough bad words from her plethora of “aunts” and “uncles” who seem to think it's cute to teach her these things.

 

“Well, he’s not exactly a young gentleman.” Draco says, instead of calling the kid a little shit like he was going to. “But his bad behavior doesn’t excuse yours young lady.”

 

“What’d Jeremy even do that got you so worked up sweetie?” Harry says, working on his own coat. “You’ve been getting a lot better at not lashing out as much.”

 

Delilah hesitates to answer, dropping her eyes to the floor and scuffing at it with her shoe, and it makes Draco actually worried about the situation instead of just mildly annoyed. 

 

Their little girl is a firecracker, she’s fierce and opinionated and confident. She’s a handful, but he loves that she’s like that. He loves that she feels comfortable taking up space and having her thoughts and opinions heard. He thought this was just some normal playground dispute, but if she’s reacting this way… what if he missed something? Something big, something important?

 

“Sweetie?” Harry asks again, also looking a bit more concerned now.

 

“He said something mean about Papa.” She says, eventually. 

 

Harry hesitates.

 

“What did he say about Papa?” he asks. 

 

Delilah fiddles with her clothes nervously. 

 

“He said that he heard his mum tell her sister that Papa is a... a death eater whore.”

 

She stumbles over the words a bit, obviously not very familiar with them, but it’s clear what she means.

 

“He said that his mom said that Papa is a slut and a bad person and that Daddy deserves better.” She finishes. 

 

For a moment it feels like everyone in the room is holding their breath. Even little Cyrus is quiet, though that might just be because he’s due for a nap.

 

Draco knew this would come up eventually. That eventually they’d have to talk about it. He just thought they’d have more time.

 

He sighs.

 

“Harry, will you go put Cy down for his nap?” Draco says, and does his best to make his tone gentle and warm. “I think Delilah and I need to talk.”

 

“Are you sure?” Harry asks, even as he comes over to take their son. “I could-”

 

“Harry.” Draco says, a little firmer. He smiles at his mate and pulls him in for a kiss. “I’m okay. I’ve got this.”

 

Harry looks a little starry eyed when he pulls away from the kiss and Draco loves that he can still get a reaction like that even after having been together all these years.

 

“Okay.” Harry agrees simply. 

 

“Be back in a bit sweetie.” He says to Delilah before heading upstairs with Cyrus in his arms.

 

She still looks upset, and a bit confused. 

 

Draco kneels down beside her and brushes his fingers through her hair, it’s black and wild just like her father’s, just like he’d dreamed it would be.

 

“Why don’t we go sit down in the living room my love? Then we can talk okay?” He says, trying for a gentle tone.

 

She nods and follows him, her hand tiny in his.

 

He settles on the couch and pulls her onto his lap. She’s old enough that she’s started saying she’s too old for cuddles from her parents, but today she lets him hold her close without complaint. 

 

“I’m sorry someone said that to you.” He starts. “And I’m sorry it upset you.”

 

“It probably won't be the last time someone says something like that.” He gently informs her. She traces the faded scars on his wrist with her finger.

 

“Because of the scars?” She asks, her voice small.

 

“Yes, partially because of the scars.” He says. 

 

He tries to think of how to continue, how to tell her about this. Harry and him have talked about it of course, but Harry trusted him to handle it however he felt was best.

 

“A long time ago, before you were born, back when your father and I first presented, there was a war. I know you’ve heard of it before.” 

 

She nods, watching him intently with grey eyes that match his own.

 

“Grandpa and I, we made some bad decisions during the war.” He continues. “We chose the wrong side, and by the time we realized it… we were stuck.”

 

“I was a death eater. I did some bad things.” He rubs his thumb over her cheek and she leans into his touch. “Not as many bad things as some people think, but it’s okay if they’re still upset.”

 

“Just because you apologize doesn’t mean someone’s gotta accept it.” She says, parroting something they’ve been trying to teach her.

 

“Yeah that’s right.” He says. “So that’s the death eater part. The rest of it…”

 

How to even start?

 

“Towards the end of the war, during the final battle-” He says.

 

“When Daddy saved the world!” she interjects excitedly. 

 

Draco rolls his eyes but his voice is fond when he continues.

 

“When your father was fighting Voldemort, yes, that’s when I presented.” 

 

“I was alone, Grandma and Grandpa were stuck on the other side of the battlefield and everything was a mess.” He has to pause here to reign in some of his emotions so he doesn’t make her anxious.

 

“Some bad people got a hold of me in all that chaos, and they stole me away.” He says.

 

Delilah gasps.

 

“They stole you?” She asks. “From grandma and grandpa?”

 

 “Yes. They stole me.” He reiterates. “It was during that time that I got all these scars. They made me…”

 

He swallows past the emotions threatening to choke him.

 

“They were very bad people.”

 

Delilah reaches up to his face, and wipes away tears he hadn’t meant to let fall.

 

“They hurt you Papa?” She asks.

 

“Yes, they did.”

 

She looks so upset for him.

 

He smiles at her, even if it causes a few more tears to fall.

 

“But it’s okay, because you know what happened next?”

 

“What?” She asks, hanging on his words.

 

“Your Uncle Ron came to my rescue.” He says. 

 

She lights up with excitement.

 

“Uncle Ron did?” She asks.

 

“Yep. He got me out of there. And when the hospital said I was okay to go home he brought me here.”

 

He knows he’s skimming over a lot of the story, but he thinks she’s still a little young to know the details of court proceedings and plenty of the rest of it.

 

“It was hard for me at first, living here with your father.” He says, trying to choose his words carefully.

 

“Because he’s a gryffindor idiot.” Delilah says, so sure of her answer. 

 

“Well, there was that.” Draco agrees, trying not to laugh. 

 

“But it was also because I had been hurt so much, I had begun to believe that that was just how things were.” He tells her. “But that’s not how your father is. He may be a foolish gryffindor idiot, but he was gentle and kind to me.”

 

“He taught me how to be a person again. Gave me a place where it was safe for me to figure out who I was after all I had been through.”

 

“And then you and your brother came along and I’ve never been happier than I am now with all of you.” She giggles when he kisses her on the forehead.

 

“There are always going to be people who judge me because of my past and because of my scars. But to me, these scars help tell the story of how I got here. And I love here. I love your father, your brother, and you so so much.” 

 

He hugs her tight, and she hugs him back.

 

“I love you too Papa.” She says against his chest.

 

His heart feels fit to burst with how much he loves her.

 

She looks at him thoughtfully when she pulls away from the hug.

 

“I think your scars are cool.” She decides. 

 

“And next time I see Jeremy I’m going to tell him his mum’s a nosy bitch who should mind her own business.”

 

Draco’s jaw drops.

 

“Delilah! That is no way for a young lady to talk.” He reprimands, as she leaps off his lap to run down the hall giggling, narrowly missing running right into Harry as he comes down the stairs.

 

The reprimand is half hearted, and they all know it.

Notes:

It’s been like… almost two years (I think?) since I’ve written anything for this fic so I felt kinda rusty, hopefully it's not too different from the rest.

I didn't find a chance to fit much of Cyrus into this chapter but I imagined that Delilah got Harry’s hair and Draco’s eyes and that Cyrus is the opposite and got Draco’s hair and Harry’s eyes.

Thank you everyone for the continued support. I don’t currently have anything else planned for this fic but I do have a few other Drarry fics I’m working on (just want to get them a bit closer to done before I start posting to hopefully avoid any posting gaps).

And as always, I hope you enjoyed.