Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Published date on AO3: 31/03/2025

Original published date on Twitter: 17/02/2025

— The Prettiest —

Someone: Harry! Truth or dare?

Harry ⚡️ : Dare, of course.

That someone: Kiss the prettiest person in the school!

Harry ⚡️ walks directly to where Draco and Pansy are sitting, asking Pansy with a smug smile: Do you mind?

Pansy, very amused 🌸 : No. Go ahead.

Draco 🍏 : Don't you dare tainting Pansy with your greasy lips and hands, Potter! Good for you for having good taste and eyes for ONCE, but she's like MY SISTER! 😡😡😡

Harry ⚡️ : I'm not asking your permission here. *Turning to other Slytherins* So, Blaise? Theo? Greg? May I?

Blaise 👑, Theo 📖, Greg 🧁: Sure! 😎😉😆

Draco 🍏 : What are you playing? You're asked to kiss only ONE person. Don't be greedy! And DON'T kiss Pansy and my friends! GO AWAY! 🤬🤬🤬

Harry ⚡️ : Are you silly? I'm not kissing your friends 🤨🤨🤨

Draco 🍏 : Good! Then—

Harry interrupts Draco's next words with a chaste kiss, a sweet peck. When he sees that Draco is too stunned and bewildered to reject him, face pink and eyes blown, Harry kisses him again, properly, ignoring all the cheers and catcalls. When Draco realizes he should push Harry away and protect his virtue, he's already in Harry's lap on the same sofa, with Pansy happily moves to sit with other Slytherin boys.

Draco, scandalous 🍏 : I-wha—? WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!?!? 😳😳😳

Harry ⚡️ : Kissing the prettiest person in the world? 😚😚😚 *Kissing Draco's cheek to prove his point*

Draco 🍏 : I-I'm not! I'm a handsome, gorgeous man!

Harry ⚡️ : Yes, yes you are. *Kiss* You're the prettiest and handsomest and gorgeousest and fuckablest and—

Pansy 🌸 : Stop right there, Potter 😒😒😒

Draco 🍏 : *Hopeful* Pansy... 🥺🥺🥺

Blaise 👑 : What did we tell you about Draco?

Harry ⚡️ : That I must treat him right.

Theo 📖 : Exactly. So, no talking about his fuckable quality before marriage. *Ignoring that they're practically cuddle in public* Draco's virtue comes first!

Pansy 🌸 : Moreover, we did tell you that the Malfoys is the most traditionalist of us all, right? Do you know what that means?

Harry ⚡️ : Of course. *Turning to Draco in his arms, who forgets that he should flee from Harry's embrace* I'm so sorry that I steal your first kiss, Draco.

Draco 🍏 : ...H-how do you know that—

Harry ⚡️ : So, to take responsibility. I will marry you immediately! 😆😆😆

Draco 🍏 : ...Immediately?

Harry ⚡️ : Yes! I already talk with the Minister—Kingsley. He said he'd officiate our bonding. And Cissy and Molly are already planning. Where do you want our wedding to take place? Your Malfoy Manor? Potter Palace? Black Celestial Castle? If you want somewhere else, there are brochures here. *Flicking his hands to summon them from his room* Everybody confirms that we'll have anywhere we want, whenever, just tell them and they'll manage the schedule and rearrange it if it's not available. How about next month? You love Spring Wedding, right?

Draco 🍏 : Who are going to marry you?!?!?

Harry ⚡️ : You and only you, my princess 😚😚😚

Harry stands on one knee and presents Draco a ring with very large pink diamond and white diamonds around it. When Draco is too shocked to respond, he just takes his hand, kisses it, and places the ring on his finger, then moves Draco to his lap again.

Draco 🍏 : Wha— *Turning to his friends* Did you plan THIS with Harry????

Pansy 🌸 : Of course not.

Draco 🍏 : Good—

Blaise 👑 : We just give our blessing.

Theo 📖 : And intel.

Greg 🧁 : And opinions about what he plans.

Pansy 🌸 : And help him manage effectively.

Theo 📖 : What a clever man, clearly asking for a permission again from the family right in front of you, before proceeding to kiss you, starting his plan. Very honorable.

Blaise 👑 : And quite slippery and absolutely shameless. I know I like him for a reason.

Pansy 🌸 : Rest assured, darling, the dress is my responsibility. I know what you like best and what is the best for you after all. *Showing him the design drafts* I think you need at least 5 outfits. I have about 5 drafts of each here. When you finish your trip, we'll discuss it together.

Draco 🍏 : *Too confused to focus on anything* Trip??

Greg 🧁 : Yep! A visit to the Malfoy Manor to announce your engagement! Can I go with you? I want to discuss about the food with Mrs. Weasley, she's mostly there nowadays. I'll wait in the garden until you finish telling the Malfoys, of course. Don't want to interrupt your special time 😁

Neville 🌿 : Oh, then I must talk with Mrs. Malfoy too. Her sense in flower arrangement is exceptional, and I want to discuss the plan with her too.

Harry ⚡️ : Sure! You two can follow us. Let's go!

Draco 🍏 : *Speechless*

It's fortunate that it's Saturday and 8th year students could go out freely as they're all adults. So, they visit the Manor together, with just Harry's Patronus to inform them beforehand. Narcissa is elated while Lucius is frustrated, forced to accept it as his son's virtue is already ruined by the Potter boy.

The first kiss doesn't happen during the wedding ceremony? Scandalous! At least Potter has a decency to take responsibility of his child!!

Draco can't believe himself that it's actually happening, he's going to marry Harry! And he doesn't have to do anything at all!

When they come back to Hogwarts, they're smiling too broadly and brightly that no one has a mind to tease them. Everyone just congratulates them and tells them they could ask for help or support anytime.

With Harry's sickening-sweet smile and Draco's smug grin, they announce that the wedding is planned to take place just 3 weeks later.

Hogwarts burst with applause and shouting.

- The End - 

- Behind the scene -

Ron 🍗 : I shouldn't dare Harry that...

Hermione 📚 : Oh, yes. You definitely should. 

Ron 🍗 : I should?

Hermione 📚 : Yes. I can't tolerate Harry's restlessness and crazy possessiveness anymore. He has been cursing too many people who just glance at Draco's way minimally wrong to count.

Ginny 🧹 : It's hilarious, though. So entertaining.

Hermione 📚 : It isn't! Still, I just want to implement the plan. If Harry takes longer time to propose, the Spring Wedding plan is useless.

Ginny 🧹 : I don't think he'll wait any longer. Luna told me that within this following week, Harry would take a 'surer way' to rope Draco into being his wife. Publicly. And knowing Harry...

Luna 🔮 : He'd claim Draco right in the middle of Great Hall.

Hermione 📚 : Lucius Malfoy would go crazy. And ballistic.

Luna 🔮 : Although Draco would feel too good to realize his shame or to reject Harry's public claiming, he'd not want his father to ask Harry for a duel.

Ginny 🧹 : Harry wants Mr. Malfoy to officially give Draco to him at the wedding. He'd not kill his future father-in-law, would he?

Luna 🔮 : No, he'd not. Aunt Cissy and Draco would be so sad, and Draco's happiness is Harry's number 1 priority.

Hermione 📚 : But Harry would do something else equally drastic to force Mr. Malfoy. And we don't want that.

Ginny 🧹 : I kinda want that. But I agree with you in principle.

Hermione 📚 : So, you did well, Ron. Giving him an opening like that, when everyone important presents. I'm sure Harry will thank you later.

Ron 🍗 : ...Harry plans to get Malfoy and marry him??!?!? And you all know it and help him plan!?!?! Why don't I know this!?!!?! 🤯🤯🤯

Everyone: ...

Ron 🍗 : Just— Why!? I'm his best mate!! AND TO MALFOY!? AND MY MOM KNOWS IT TOO!?!?

Ginny 🧹 : And dad.

Luna 🔮 : And the twins. And Bill and Fleur.

Hermione 📚 : And everyone, really.

Ron 🍗 : BUT NOT ME!!!?

Ginny 🧹 : Well, basically because you'll be an overreacting ass like this, and ruin his plan even before it could start.

Hermione 📚 : Harry can't risk that. We can't risk that.

Ginny 🧹 : Harry will destroy the world. I'm quite like being alive in a peaceful world. Thank you very much.

Luna 🔮 : Don't worry, you'll be his best man. And he'll praise you happily for this opportunity in his speech.

Hermione 📚 : So, thank you for helping Harry achieving his happily ever after with Draco, Ron.

Ron 🍗 : ...Fuck.

(Ron will later make peace with himself and welcome Draco as his brother-in-law. He loves Harry too much to prevent him from his happiness anyway.)

Ron 🍗 : But, please, if something this important happens again, just tell me beforehand so I can prepare my mind?! 😩😩😩

Harry ⚡️ : Something THIS important...? *Thinking about what can be classified as this level of importance to him* *Nothing but this marriage* *Ron thinks he'll marry again with someone else!?!* I'll NOT marry any other people, Ron! I'll ONLY have Draco!! 😤😤😤

Draco 🍏 : Are you trying to suggest something, Weasley!? 🤨🤨🤨

Harry ⚡️ : DRACO IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!! MY ONE AND ONLY!!!

Draco 🍏 : Aww, I know, darling 🥰🥰🥰 Ron is just jealous of our love that he tries to inflict doubt. Of course there is nothing more important than your plan to marry me, and you'll not have this particular thing to tell him again, right?

Harry ⚡️ : Absolutely not! Unless to tell him about our second wedding so our children can participate, or so you can announce our bond to the world again and be more stunning than usual. I want to announce that you're mine and I'm yours to the world for a million times if I have my way. By any mean.

Draco 🍏 : At least you can have another time this way. I want Autumn wedding too, to be honest.

Harry ⚡️ : You'll let me?

Draco 🍏 : Of course I'll let you. I want you to 🥰🥰🥰

Harry ⚡️ : So, we'll have our second wedding, then! The boys will be there this time!

Draco 🍏 : And we can make a girl for the third one during our second honeymoon. The flower girl for our third wedding! 😊😊😊

Harry ⚡️ : Yayyyyyy!! 😆😆😆

Ron 🍗 : ...I fucking hate you two 😭😭😭

— The End —

(1,627 words)

Chapter Text

Published date on AO3: 25/05/2025

Original published date on Twitter: 24/05/2025

— Your Hands, Your Smiles (I'll Set the World Alight for You) —

It is the hundredth times already, when Harry tells Ron that Draco is left-handed, which is so unfairly fucking sexy, in Harry's humble opinion.

(Ron has no comment).

However, the most remarkable benefit of it all is that: it allows Harry to be even more unapologetically doting and possessive towards the love of his life—he can hold and kiss and worship his wife's hand all the time (when the situation isn't feasible for him to hold Draco's waist or shoulders, of course). With different dominant hands, Harry can still be properly connected to Draco when showing Draco off everywhere, anywhere, for everyone to see and remember.

So, with this perk, both of them can lace their fingers together and still have their dominant hands to do their duties, to live their lives, and most importantly, to hex anyone who stupidly cross either or both of them senseless.

And that, kid you not, happen far too many times to count.

They're too smug while doing so, though. So much that Ron can't help but wonder.

"So, if Draco isn't left-handed, you'll just...what? Hold his hand anyway and fight those idiots for him in the name of his honor?"

"Don't be stupid, mate. Draco is wonderfully capable of protecting himself—"

"And NO one—" Draco interrupts, voice dripping with venom. "—could steal my joy of hexing those hopeful morons bald—or far, far worse—from me. Idiots will never learn that Harry is forever MINE and I'm eternally HIS if I don't teach them one or two permanent lessons."

"And NO one—" Harry adds, eyes soft. He pecks Draco's well-manicured fingers one-by-one, fleetingly on the tips, then he kisses the back of his hand once, before bringing the palm to caress his own cheek, eyes bright like a devoted slave he is. "—could steal my chance of seeing my Draco go beautifully feral. It's his time to shine, and I love him exactly for that. Among million other things."

"Aww. I love when you let me have my fun before you ruin them severely too, darling, even though I know you want to kill them on spot when they dare insulting me, or worst, wanting me to themselves. Those bastards can't be gone too easily."

"Of course, love. It's what a supportive husband should do. Just a smile in my way when you're bored, or tired, and they will be just forgotten, nameless faces in the past."

"You're the best!"

And they, unsurprisingly, kiss so passionately, with panting moans and all, which makes Ron want to die a little.

Fuck his life.

In mere minutes, Draco starts to climb on Harry's lap, right in front of Ron (and at least hundreds of other people, as they're currently waiting for Hermione, their brain and common sense, and Blaise, Ron's husband, at Ministry Atrium, before going to meet their other friends together). But he still has questions, and although Ron—Harry's best mate—is an exception to their rage, these perfectly innocent people aren't, and they shouldn't be blinded and burnt to death because they happen to mind their own business where his best friend and his wife decide to show their love to each other. Naked.

People seeing their lovers in the most primitive, animalistic state is totally unacceptable in their shared book of possessiveness. So, sacrifice must be made.

Ron needs to save them all.

"S-still!" Ron exclaims, wishing his questions are interesting enough. They just begin, so his hope is there. "If Draco were right-handed, you both would still hold hands and hex people in daily basis together? How could you do that? Harry would use left hand to hex instead? Or you two would switch hands to take turn hexing people with your right hands?" While trying to distract them, Ron signals to Aurors currently on guard duty like mad. His lips quietly say 'Evacuate! EVACUATE!' Fortunately, they're familiar with their scary Head Auror and his wife's behaviour enough to understand Ron's order, get pale considerably, then get to work rapidly, in a span of 3 seconds. Ron is their only hope now. "Or, or... Oh! Harry's left arm would hold Draco's waist, it'd also hold Draco's left hand from the back, right? Like when you hold Draco's waist normally, just switch Draco's hand to grab. Both of your right hands would be free that way!" Harry's hands move swiftly to lie under Draco's shirt, right on the said waist, fondling. As if Ron mentioning it provokes him to touch it somehow. Merlin please help him. "Tell me, Harry! Mate!"

"Hmm...?"

Thank Godric he is Harry's best mate. No one else's voice—apart from Hermione's—will reach him in this state. Harry blinks the lust away from his system, shaking his head to gain back his senses. Ron knows the opportunity is short-lived when Draco just moves from his withdrawn lips to his neck, nipping the golden skin like an affectionate kitten. Harry just kisses his less-than-perfect hair and tilts his head, facilitating and giving more access.

Ron—both hopeless and hopeful—asks again. "So? How would you do to continue being disgustingly connected and carelessly maniac in that scenario?"

"Eh...? Oh? Well... I'll just—" Then, Draco decides to bite right on his neck, conveniently above the collar, where everyone and their parents can see. His hips grinding on Harry's crotch invitingly. Sensually. Fuck. Where are Hermione and Blaise when he needs them most? "Oh, love, my naughty little kitten. I—"

And Ron loses his best friend. To carnal desire, no less.

Fuck his life (again).

Fortunately, Hermione—the goddess she is—arrives on time (he suspects one of his fellow Senior Auror sends her the emergency code). No one but her can manage these love-sick idiots in this state, so Ron can breathe again when she effectively dissipates the in-coming serial (and major) slaughter.

When Blaise and his team of Curse Breakers end the Protective Spell and Disillusionment Charm (maxima, no less) used to guard people there for their emergency evacuation, signaling the successful mission, Ron is finally, truly relieved.

Just 10 minutes after Hermione takes action, everything is back to normal.

They move to Theo's favourite restaurant to have dinner with him, Nev, Pansy, Gin, and Luna like nothing extraordinary just happened, which, considering that it's Harry and Draco in question, it's totally normal and expected to them.

Ron is just content that his life is calm and joyful again.

However, his question is left unanswered.

The next day, when all of them attend another boring gala dinner, predictably, there is another naïve and clueless wizard taking an interest in Draco's unparalleled beauty and ethereal grace—such a shallow bastard, like the majority of the men before him. He's from some foreign government that recently initiates a relation with Britain. New face in a questionably respectful rank, fully drunk in a pitiful scrap of power and ill-illusioned future, first time in the wild, as usual, or else he wouldn't be this stupid and target Draco like this.

'I'm a big shot!'—Ron hears him proclaim loudly, before he tries to quietly woo Draco out of his aristocratic and gorgeous feet (words of too many fallen men before him). The nameless man is doing so by flaunting his wealth and status and something heavily insulting and pitiful, Ron is sure. Draco is the epitome of beauty and elegance, everyone knows that with a glance his way, so it's unfortunate that people might want to try their luck, if he's still available. But that man perfectly knows that Draco is taken—as both of his friends have never been shy in showing their reciprocated affection in public—he even waits until Harry is away to get his wife another serving of some fancy drink to pursue his move. So, no excuse.

Thus, Ron isn't sorry for him at all when Harry is back in a flash—fast, majestic, and threatening like a thunderstorm—towering over the man effortlessly, making him shiver with fear by his fierce side-glance alone, like he is an annoying, meaningless bug.

The man unconsciously shifts backward, 2 steps at a time. Face drained of blood. No eye contact.

"Your acquaintance, sweetheart?" Harry asks with a tender smile, unlike when he briefly sizing the idiot. Both of his hands carry the fancy drink and a plate of Draco's favourite hors d’oeuvres, hands totally occupied. Still, Harry shields him in his arm from the side as best as he could. He tentatively lifts the glass to Draco's lips, serving him like a royalty, allowing Draco to put all of his weight on him and savor the sweetness of his love diligently. Harry's freely caring action, as well as his huge frame of the active, experienced Head Auror and powerful Wizarding Saviour persona efficiently half-embrace Draco protectively, partially guarding him from view in the process. "I think I have never met this man before."

Kissing Harry's chin to show his gratitude, Draco answers. "Oh, no, love. Not an acquaintance." He looks so smug. Excited. Thirsty. "Just a new interest."

"...Interest?" Harry repeats. The temperature drops. Significantly. Ron starts to desperately look for Hermione. "Which kind?"

The angelic, loving smile becomes cruel, now aiming directly to the new victim. "That."

Finally, as if his sense just comes back, the git smiles shakingly at them. Still avoiding eye contact at all costs, the man excuses himself immediately and backs off into the crowd. Ron thinks he sees imaginary tail tugged between his legs when he rushes away.

Coward.

"What he said to you?" Harry asks calmly, but the temperature still decreasing, so obvious that people start to retreat.

"Oh, the usual." Comes the sing-song voice. Sweet and serenade. Pretending. "And a bit more, I guess?—You're so pretty and sexy. You look so gorgeous, pure, and untouchable, for a slut. I don't believe that Harry Potter truly loves you as a person when you're this fuckable, like a man's wet dream. I bet Potter marry you because he's after the small money you have left after the war, and just wants to fuck you for free every day. I'd do that too if I had a chance. Back then your social status was in ruined, and you had nothing but your perfectly untouched body anyway. Now that you use his influence to become an established Potion Master, with all respect and wealth restored, his utility is expired. You don't need to be with him anymore, so better be with me. I'm better that that half-blooded with a fluke spell and fake authority after all. Your children with him? I bet Potter, the orphan, will take them all, so you'll be free. I can pay him your worth for you, so you can thank me by being my personal slut to breed and play later. I'm rich and successful and pureblooded, perfect to continue my and your Malfoy's lines. You should be grateful that I take an interest in you—" Draco exhales—dreamily, mockingly, before obediently sipping the drink Harry dutifully serves him. "He expressed these opinions in more refined words, of course, but the meanings are all the same."

Wow.

Flying fucking WOW.

Ron doesn't know which one to focus on, which is the most insulting one—they sound worse than the one before them. And in the end, they all sound on par—each deserves a significant severity of punishment of its own.

Merlin's rotting pants. So the bastard isn't just a clueless and hopeful idiot as he previously thought—he's unbelievably arrogant and rude. Self-important, self-righteous to the nine and fucking blind beyond sense!

The fastest fast track of a suicidal mission he has ever witnessed.

RIP this fucking bastard and his doomed linage. He bets his inheritance that it ends here.

When Hermione eventually notices his expression, thank Merlin, she promptly abandons the French Minister of Magic to rush to him. Luna, as expected from her, is already half-way guiding Ginny to another part of the hall to cover that side. Theo and Pansy are near and sharp enough to see the beginning of the commotion, already preparing for the worst. Ron is now looking for Blaise and Nev for damage control.

"...What do you want to do, Draco?" Ron immediately casts a Patronus when he hears the sound of Draco's name from Harry mouth—so solemn, void of any emotions. Focused.

It's the first time Harry calls Draco by his name tonight, maybe in weeks, considering that he loves to call Draco by tons of pet names to relieve his intense affection from his heart. And now it's back to a simple Draco again, with that tone, and no additional words to accompany the name.

That's the scariest thing he had ever heard.

Draco giggles. "Unlike others—he's not worth a silver of my energy." Blaise and Nev appear from nowhere. Barely a glance at Harry's face and they turn to work. "Thus, no participation from my side. He wants me as an entertainment?" His eyes are sharp. Gleaming. Deadly like a stainless knife. "I want to watch him as one instead. With the finest seat and the best delicacy within my reach." Nuzzling Harry's shoulder placatingly, cutely, he adds. "His screams will be my sweet lullaby."

With that, Harry smiles. Besotted. Determined. A grand throne-like sofa is conjured from thin air. Only a familiarity that the most trusted friends could have tells Ron that it's Harry's magic's doing.

"Rest assured, my love. No need to lift a finger at all." Back to the pet name in relaxed, smooth voice. Resolute. Hermione is close enough to hear that, too, and she activates a ward swiftly.

The room is gradually warming up.

Ignoring the chaos of dread and panic around them, Harry carries Draco in his arms like a treasure he unquestioningly is, moving as one to the scarlet seat. Harry sits on it like a monarch, carefully guiding Draco onto his lap—either like a pampered cat or a worshipful queen—until he's utterly comfortable and content.

Just a sure flick of a powerful hand, and the trays of delicacy are hovering right besides their throne.

With strong thighs as his seat, with protective arms encircling lovingly around him, with hands connected and fingers laced together, Draco is now on the finest seat, warm, gentle, with various choices of delicacy within reach.

Just for him.

A lazy tilt of Harry's head, and the doomed man flies across the room—from the magically secured door to the floor right before them, where he truly belongs.

Seems like Hermione's ward is working, just in time.

Harry and Draco haven't even spared the whimpering man a glance. "I won't fail you, my precious. I'll do my best." He swears seriously, as if he finally has a chance to complete the fundamental duty of his existence.

Maybe it is. For Harry.

"I trust you, Harry. My beloved husband knows my taste the best after all." Draco's smile is so unguarded. Stunning. People stop breathing for a while.

It's a death sentence in disguise.

Harry kisses Draco's occupied hand like a knight receiving an honorable order.

"So..." Harry starts.

"So?" Draco complies, understanding without word.

Harry finally looks directly at the man, his elated face shift to expressionless, hard and heartless like a stone.

"Let's begin."

Then, the man screams.

Loud. Wild. Unrestraint.

Succumbing to agony.

Even those under Cruciatus Curse don't respond like this. Not really. The majority of the room know that, from the wars.

This? This is far worse.

Every witness in the hall doesn't dare to escape, to look away—even when their ears ring high with begging and screams, even when the man's voice goes seamlessly from hoarse to finally absent, unredeemed.

They can still hear it.

The silent scream—either the one from the man or the one in their heads—is far more disturbing.

The temperature is increasing.

Causing the mesmerising red paint on the marble floor to burn, evaporate.

As if the man is in hell and Harry is Hades incarnated, reborn purposefully to weight his sins.

Though Hermione's ward is now inactivated, doors ajar, people are too afraid to move, to flee—too scared of provoking either of the mighty couple's rage and becoming the next example.

They could just weakly drop down on the floor, one by one, until the seated couple is the one highest of them all.

As they should be.

The most crucial detail of the situation—the one that pins them on their place, frozen—is that: no wand spotted in any of Harry's hands since the beginning.

Not even a whisper of a curse or a hex. Nothing

A show of perfectly wandless and wordless magic. Quietly. Easily.

Effortlessly.

With no fanfare to emphasize how precisely impossible of the wonder he creates.

But Harry does it like it's what he does every day anyway.

Ah.

Ron just remembers.

How convenient of him to forget how precisely powerful his best friend actually is. It's both so normal and unexpected for him to see Harry exercise his magic like this, in public, as Harry hates the shocked stare and astonished faces directing at him at all times. Being the Saviour is enough to guarantee that, no need to give them more resources to invest in the cause—he said.

However, now he utilises it in full force. Unrestrainedly. To please the love of his life. To serve: entertainment, drink, and everything Draco asks—verbally or not—for.

Harry doesn't care much about his own glory. But for his Draco? His reason to live and be happy for?

Harry does care. A fucking great deal.

Seeing Harry pampering Draco with attention and love when a man breathes his last breath—punishing him lazily with just a jut of his cheek or a movement of his eyes, while deliberately serving Draco with a clear flick of his intertwined hand or slow nod of his head, still controlling his magic just by his intention to please, no hands required—Ron sighs. His own question yesterday echoing in his mind.

He should know that this is coming, this is an answer—it's Harry and Draco he's talking about after all.

How to hex people when their hands are unavailable, being disgustingly intertwined and in love?

The thing is—the hands aren't actually necessary for Harry at all.

Between holding Draco tight and having a free hand to assert his power, he would rather connect them with his wife, and let his mind control the punishment for him.

The stare? The scare?

He doesn't care.

Anything for Draco.

That's Harry's motto.

Just for Draco's hands, Draco's smiles, Harry would definitely set the world alight for him.

Ron should know better. Everyone should know better.

And that, is how Ron discovers the answer for his stupid question.

He doesn't doubt his best mate and his wife ever again.

(International Wizarding Societies and Associations around the world eventually realize how severe threatening Harry and Draco's level of patience actually is, and how respectful both of them are in response to their previous stupidity and recklessness, all this time.

Those precedingly punished men thank Merlin and God every day that they didn't go that far.

Later, it becomes a well-known fact—rule—that if there is no business involving them, people should be far, far away from being close to them at all costs, or they would be in a substantial risk of insulting or irritating the great Potter-Malfoy Family.

And that would be literal hell to pay.

Finally, Harry and Draco could live peacefully together, happily ever after.)

— The End —

(3,304 words)

Chapter Text

Published date on AO3: 31/07/2025

Original published date on Twitter: 21/06/2025

— Beta (Not) —

What if Draco is an Omega, but the Malfoys protect him from the truth since he is 13?

In Wizarding World, all magical children get tested for their dynamic at 13, to better prepare and educate them properly before they start showing signs of specific traits at 14. Parents can seek a private test and treatment, or Hogwarts will support their children at the beginning of Third Year.

Mighty Malfoys will never depend on anyone's mercy and then expose themselves to prying eyes—thus the private test by their private healer, in the privacy of their own Manor.

'Panic' is the understatement of the century when the Malfoys receives their only child's test result.

Omega.

In normal circumstances, this is a cause of a pride, of public celebration. But with the looming, in coming war? They are so, so terrified of Voldemort and his Chamber business the year before, although it's Lucius's doing to begin with.

Therefore, they lie that Draco is a beta, but he is very sick and needs to take potion every day, secretly, to save Malfoy's name as well as Draco himself from unwanted pity and malice intention, especially from Lucius's cousin in France, who is too eager to take a part in Britain since forever. What Draco doesn't know is that—it's actually a potion to delay and/or prevent his presentation to take place. They wish him to remain a beta—the default dynamic—forever, or at least until things settle in their favour.

Draco trusts his parents—of course he does—and dutifully takes his potion as per instructed. He completely believes the lie, as when Draco takes it late, he starts getting dizzy and heating up. His body is weakening like his parents and healer tell him—he thinks, so Draco has never skipped it. Ever.

(His omega genes just trying to show)

Draco is a Beta throughout the whole messy war and everything, his parents can protect him from the worst fate of being a plaything when Lucius went to Azkaban. Bata is perceived as a hard worker, very appreciated in Death Eater rank, as they get the job done most of the times. So instead of getting bitched, like those punished Alphas, or getting bred, like those helpless Omegas, Draco's punishment is the Vanishing cabinet and killing Dumbledore projects. Such impossible tasks for a beta, which suits Draco just fine.

When the war ends and he retakes his 7th year as 8th year, he—and the whole world—still think he is beta.

His secret is very well kept, even from himself.

It should continue like that until he marries Astoria—another Omega from respective family—and has an heir like his father wishes, or until he is well informed of the truth and is ready for a proper courtship like his mother hopes, but no. No.

His plan is ruined by Harry, as always.

Because, for interhouse unity and that sort, Harry and Draco are roommates!

Alpha and beta rooming together is ideal, as Alpha dislike another Alpha in their territory and Alpha with Omega is out of the table. Being a Prime Alpha ascending to his peak after getting rid of the parasite (horcrux), Harry is extremely protective of his space and things he considers totally his.

Only Draco with his scentless gland but questionably interesting something—in Harry's POV—doesn't trigger his rage and destructive behaviour, on the other hand, Draco triggers his protective side instead, to the astonishment of everyone. And as Draco never gets even a glimpse of bare teeth or faintly threatening gestures from Harry, just his undivided attention and undeserved protection (Daily Prophet's word) from angry students and public—again, to the astonishment of everyone—Draco volunteers to share the room with Harry.

Well, he's a Slytherin. Real Slytherin will never reject this clear sign of glory.

If he can be a good friend with the Saviour?

Winner at all sides.

Draco keeps taking his potion, that's unchanged, but being in close vicinity with Prime Alpha at all times makes the potion less effective. The climax point? Harry has paid far more attention on Draco—a boring Beta—than any other people. Even more than his close friends and those Omegas who try to woo him so hard—too hard—that some of them manage to get on his bed naked, giving him free access to everything.

And there is a new case of such incidents today.

(Draco is actually to blame for this, really, as that omega is in fact his close friend Theo, who wants to restore his family legacy again at all costs. Slytherin needs to help fellow Slytherin, right?)

Most Alphas would jump on the free tempting meat willingly served on their bed without second though. But Harry? Harry flicks his hand and Theo flies right through the door, hitting against the far wall with his clothes threw right on his naked body. Draco—who just lets his friend in and can't escape before Harry is back—is stunned and just stares at the messy situation.

Harry is so furious that Theo taints his bed and room and EVERY FUCKING THING with his too sweet, over-spiked, disgusting scent. (Wrong. Wrong. WRONG!) And of fucking course he can't totally replace it with his own scent, due to the fact that wix can't smell their own pheromones much, unless they're mingling with another person.

For fuck's sake!

The need to repaint or mask it with better scent to make it right again is consuming his mind and sanity.

That exact moment, Draco is the one and only person comes to his mind.

He's also conveniently available.

Draco needs to be responsible to his own action anyway.

So, instead of jumping on the willing Theo, Harry jumps right on Draco and pulls him onto his ruined bed. He removes the cover with Theo's scent, throwing Draco on it right after so his faint Beta scent can mask it better for him.

However, as Draco is Beta still, Theo's scent in the air is overpowering Draco's.

That won't do.

To make Draco's scent stronger, Harry fucks him. Hard.

Feral and wild and instinctive.

Draco—who develops potion resistant because of constant consumption and prolonged exposure to Prime Alpha—can't feel the pain as his body immediately produces slick to facilitate the first claim, as it is intended to be. His almost non-existent scent becomes stronger the more Harry fucks his previously untouched ass, until all of his enormous cock is far deep to the hilt inside his hole, bulging his belly with the shape of it. It rapidly grows sweeter and more intense. Mesmerising and alluring. And when Draco finally gets knotted and filled with cum until his belly bloat further, the potion's 5-year-accumulated effect is broken completely, and the aftermath turns his body into Omega.

With no knowledge of the potion regimen, they think Harry just turns him into Omega with his Prime Alpha and too-powerful magical power, so Draco demands compensation and responsibility.

And Harry? Harry just says "Fine, be MY Omega, then." and bites his mating claim on his now swollen, inviting mating gland, with knot still stuck and cum still releasing and all. Harry fucks him for another, another, and another round, until Draco faints. Harry's cum and scent and claim rapidly deleting the potion residue from Draco's system—it even stimulates his repressed Omega's genes to develop faster, to what he should be at 18.

When Draco gains back his sense from the unexpected but very intense mating session, he discovers that he has a pussy, unlike most of other male Omegas.

A special organ for a special Omega.

He is a Prime Omega for Prime Alpha Harry Potter, it seems.

And to celebrate his hard work, Harry takes Draco's pussy as his reward, triggering his first heat. Even before Draco starts to crave for an Alpha, Harry takes the matter in his own possessive hand and breeds him so well that Draco knows that he won't be able to walk out of this room—if he could still walk after this—without being thoroughly impregnated with a Potter's new generation.

Fortunately, Draco can trust the Saviour's words of honor completely, so he isn't worried at all. He just obediently spreads his legs wide and lies there on the floor—when did they move to the floor?—body and mind so ready that he just smiles widely and screams with delight when Harry finally fucks his cervix open, claiming new part of his body yet again.

Nothing can beat the sensation of warmth and intimacy derived from welcoming Harry's huge, throbbing cock and powerful seeds inside his newly created womb.

No part Harry can reach is left unclaimed, either his cock or his mouth or his fingers explore Draco all over.

Draco feels so full, so owned.

The room reeks of their mixed scents, as mated couple should have. No trace of Theo's scent at all.

They even forget their own names, let alone some unimportant, unwelcomed scent.

When Harry knots his pussy and releases his cum right inside his eager womb, the connection is so wild and strong that both of them scream like mindless beast. And when Draco regains his consciousness—again—he senses a new presence in his belly and tastes blood in his mouth.

Harry's brilliant smile when he finally looks into his eyes since the mating is completed and done, and the tender mark on his golden skin of his neck answer Draco's unsaid question.

Oh, well.

Seems like they're stuck with each other forever now.

"We're going to visit my parents this weekend."

That's a statement.

Harry just voices his agreement and carries him back to the ruined bed, spelling their body, bed, and floor clean, then holding him tight to sleep, resting, so they have more energy for when Draco's next heat wave comes.

Three days after that, the Malfoys have an unplanned visit, from their darling son and...Harry Potter??!?

And why their son went to school as Beta and comes back as mated Omega??!?!?! Did the potion fail?

"Hi Narcissa, Lucius!" Harry greets, too casually in Draco's opinion.

Lucius starts to fume. "WHY you call us—"

"Hello, Harry dear."

"Wha— Cissa?!??"

What's going on? "Mother?!?!?"

"Oh, Narcissa and I exchange letters since the end of the war."

"..."

"..."

"Now, can we discuss business?"

"Business?"

"Let's just say that you have a grandchild in making." Harry carcasses Draco's belly lovingly. Unashamedly. "So, wedding?"

Lucius faints.

The Malfoys come clean about the potion. Narcissa thanks Harry, as she's so worried about the side effect of the treatment but dire situation requires dire method. Draco is conflicted, but he understands and acknowledges the main reason hidden behide the lie—his parent's love. Lucius tries to resolve the bond, but as they're dual bonded, both Prime, the bond will stand for eternity, not that either Harry or Draco would allow anyone to severe it if they could.

After discussion, they discover that Draco is just an Omega, but Harry turns him Prime as he wants to fuck a baby inside Draco since the first night together; thus, the pretty pussy ready to get bred and the Prime status as a result. Harry is so smug and contented when he happily announces that he'll take full responsibility of Draco and all the children they will have together in the future.

When they go back to school, their fingers are heavy with rings and wedding is in preparation.

Protect Draco until the chaos ends? The Malfoys did that just fine.

They just didn't take Harry's obsessiveness towards Draco into account, as well as Draco's undivided attention and craving for the Boy Who Lived's devotion he not-so secretly has since 11.

However, the end result is the ideal one they could possibly think of (Lucius will never openly embrace this opinion), so it's a total success still.

Let's just say it's a win across the broad.

— The End —

(2,021 words)