Chapter 9
Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had one major concern in life: their *excessively* spoiled son.
Draco had always been a handful—demanding, dramatic, and prone to treating the world as though it revolved around him. When he announced his engagement to *Harry Potter*, they had assumed the worst. Surely, it would end in disaster. Surely, Harry would *crack* under the weight of Draco’s expectations.
But then Draco got *pregnant*.
And instead of running for the hills like a sane person, *Harry catered to his every whim*.
Lucius had witnessed it firsthand when he visited one afternoon, only to find his son lounging on a chaise while Harry massaged his feet and fed him fruit. "*Potter, the grapes. The red ones,*" Draco had said, barely glancing up from his book.
"*Yes, love,*" Harry had answered without hesitation, *actually sorting through the grapes* to find the red ones.
Lucius had turned to his wife, *stunned*. "*He can handle him.*"
"*Finally,*" Narcissa had sighed in relief. "*Our son is someone else’s problem.*"
Which is why, as a reward for Harry’s unwavering patience, devotion, and ability to *not* lose his mind, they decided to *gift* them something special.
A *villa*. A *grand*, luxurious, seaside villa in the South of France—because what better way to say *thank you for taking our dramatic son off our hands* than with real estate?
The reveal happened over dinner, with Draco curled comfortably in Harry’s lap as they ate (*because, of course*).
"*Harry,*" Narcissa said smoothly, setting down her wine glass. "*Lucius and I have been discussing how well you’ve… adjusted to Draco’s particular needs.*"
"*And how much we *appreciate* that,*" Lucius added, giving Draco a *pointed* look.
Draco simply smirked. "*I *am* a gift, aren’t I?*"
"*Yes, dear,*" Narcissa said fondly before turning back to Harry. "*So, as a token of our gratitude, we’d like to present you with a new home.*"
Harry blinked. "*What?*"
Lucius smirked. "*A villa. By the sea. Private. Spacious. *Far away from us.*"
"*You’re *giving* us a *villa*?*" Harry repeated, slightly stunned.
Draco, however, *lit up*. "*Ooh, is it in France?*"
"*Of course,*" Narcissa said smoothly. "*You deserve a home that reflects your status. And, well…*" She waved a delicate hand. "*You’ll be having a child soon. You need space.*"
Draco turned to Harry, silver eyes sparkling. "*We’re moving to a villa, Potter.*"
Harry was still processing. "*You *just* decided to give us a house?*"
"*We decided to reward you for handling *that* for the rest of your life,*" Lucius said, gesturing vaguely at Draco. "*A house seemed appropriate.*"
Draco rolled his eyes. "*Father, please, as if I’m *that* much work—*"
Harry snorted.
Draco turned to glare at him. "*Excuse me?*"
"*Nothing, love,*" Harry said quickly, kissing Draco’s temple.
Narcissa smiled, watching them. "*See? He *can* handle him.*"
And, as Draco nuzzled into Harry’s neck, already listing all the lavish renovations he wanted to make, Harry realized something.
If *this* was his reward for a lifetime of spoiling Draco Malfoy?
He’d *absolutely* take it.