No Way Out

The flames in the Gryffindor common room fireplace roared to life, shifting from orange to an eerie green as Harry knelt before them. The familiar face of Sirius Black flickered into view, his grey eyes sharp with curiosity.

"Harry," Sirius greeted, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. "Didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. What’s going on?"

Harry exhaled, fingers tightening against the stone floor. "I need to tell you something. It’s… important."

Sirius’ grin faltered. "That serious, huh? What is it? Snivellous finally showed his real face?"

Harry didn’t even crack a smile. He met Sirius’ gaze, his expression unreadable. "I’ve mated someone."

For a second, there was silence. Then—

"You what?" Sirius jerked back so fast that for a moment, his head flickered in and out of the flames. He steadied himself, eyes blown wide. "Hold on—hold on. You—you mated someone? You mean fully bonded? Teeth and all?"

Harry clenched his jaw. "Yeah. Well-I bit them but I didn't have sex with them yet. . ."

Sirius groaned, running a hand down his face. "Bloody hell, kid. You’re barely seventeen! I know Alpha instincts can be a bit much, but this—" He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. "Who?"

Harry hesitated.

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Harry. Who?"

"…Draco Malfoy."

Sirius went deathly still. Then, in true Sirius fashion, he burst into laughter.

"Malfoy?" he choked, wheezing. "Lucius Malfoy's son? My cousin's husband? That Malfoy?"

Harry scowled. "Yeah, that one."

Sirius actually leaned back, like he needed to physically process this information. "Damn. You mated the Malfoy spawn. That’s… That’s rich. How in Merlin’s name did that happen?"

Harry exhaled through his nose. "It wasn’t exactly a choice. Dumbledore arranged it to keep him from—you know." His fingers curled into fists. "We’re fated mates."

Sirius’ laughter died instantly. His expression sobered, the amusement in his eyes giving way to something sharper. “Alright, hold on. Let’s back up a second. Dumbledore arranged this—why? What was so urgent that he had to push you into a bond like this?”

Harry’s jaw clenched. “Because Voldemort was going to kill him.”

Sirius’ eyes darkened.

Harry continued, voice steady but cold. “Draco was given a mission—he was supposed to kill Dumbledore. But he was never meant to succeed. It was a punishment, a death sentence. Either he failed and got killed for it, or he actually managed to do it and still ended up under Voldemort’s thumb. There was no way out for him.”

Sirius exhaled sharply, but Harry wasn’t finished. His fingers curled into the stone floor as he added, “Voldemort didn’t even know Draco was an Omega. If he had, he’d have done worse than kill him.”

Sirius swore under his breath. For all his reckless nature, his hatred of the Malfoy name, he knew exactly what Harry meant. An Omega in Voldemort’s hands—unclaimed, unprotected—would have been a pawn at best, a plaything at worst.

"Fated," he repeated, voice quieter.

Harry nodded.

Sirius let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. "Well, that changes things."

A flicker of unease passed over his face, something almost calculating in his expression—his Black family upbringing rearing its head despite years of rebellion. "An Omega," he murmured, almost to himself. "A Malfoy Omega."

Harry’s eyes narrowed. "You sound like you have something to say."

Sirius’ gaze flicked back to him, considering. "Just thinking about the hierarchy," he admitted. "You know as well as I do how old families view this sort of thing. The Malfoys pride themselves on control, on power—but an Omega? Even one as proud as Draco will have to—"

"Don’t," Harry warned, voice low.

Sirius sighed. "Relax, pup. I’m not saying anything bad. Just… observing. You’re an Alpha. He’s an Omega. Even if he fights it, the bond’s going to shape things whether he likes it or not. And knowing Malfoys?" He let out a slow whistle. "That’s gotta be a hell of a fight."

Harry’s expression was unreadable. "It’s not like that."

Sirius hummed, but didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned forward, curiosity sparking in his gaze. "You said Dumbledore arranged it. But you felt it, right? The pull?"

Harry’s shoulders stiffened. His mind flashed back to that moment—the second his instincts had kicked in, the overwhelming need to claim, to keep, to have. The way Draco had fought, had resisted, and how that only made Harry's instincts burn hotter.

"Yeah," he admitted.

Sirius studied him, then grinned. "Damn, kid. That’s intense."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I’m bringing him to Grimmauld Place for winter break."

Sirius blinked. "You what?"

"I’m bringing him," Harry repeated. "He doesn’t have anywhere else to go, and—" he hesitated. "I want you to meet him."

"So," Sirius drawled, leaning on his arms. "You actually want me to meet him?"

Harry nodded once, jaw set. "Yeah."

Sirius raised a brow, watching him carefully. "And you’re hoping I’ll approve of him." It wasn’t a question.

Harry didn’t respond right away. His fingers twitched against his knee, eyes sharp. "You’re my godfather." The words were steady, controlled, but there was something deeper underneath—something instinctive, something Alpha. "Your approval matters."

Sirius exhaled, rubbing his jaw. "Merlin," he muttered. "You really are in this, aren’t you?"

Harry didn’t flinch. "It’s not like I had a choice."

Sirius let out a short, humorless chuckle. "No, I suppose not. Fated bonds don’t exactly leave room for negotiation." His expression turned contemplative, almost assessing. "Is he worth it?"

Harry stiffened, a flicker of something dangerous flashing in his gaze. "What?"

Sirius tilted his head. "Is he worthy of you?"

Harry bristled. His fingers clenched against the stone floor, a low, possessive growl rising in his throat before he could stop it. "He’s mine." The words came out sharp, final.

Sirius held up his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk was sharp. "Just testing you." He chuckled. "Bloody hell, your instincts are already wrapped around him tight."

Harry forced himself to exhale through his nose, shoulders tense. "He’s not—" He stopped himself, jaw working. "He’s not some thing to be measured on a scale."

Sirius gave him a look. "You do know how our world works, don’t you?" He arched a brow. "You know how these things are seen. Especially among pureblood families."

Harry’s stomach twisted. Of course he knew. The Black family, the Malfoys, all the old pureblooded lines—they all followed the same unwritten rules. Omegas submitted. Alphas ruled. It wasn’t even questioned. It was simply known.

Sirius leaned in slightly, grey eyes unreadable. "Look, Harry. I don’t mean anything by it, but you do realize how people will see this. An Omega, your Omega, needs structure. Needs control. He fights it because he doesn’t know any better, but eventually, he’ll have to settle into what he is. If he's to come here, I'm afraid he has to follow said rules."

Harry’s fists clenched, and something hot crawled up his spine. "He’s not just an Omega," he bit out.

Sirius hummed, unconvinced. "That’s not how he was raised."

Harry’s pulse pounded in his ears. He knew it. Draco knew it. The whole damned world would remind them every step of the way. But the idea of Draco being forced into a role, of being something he hated—

"I don’t want him like that," Harry said, voice tight.

Sirius raised a brow. "You say that now."

Harry glared.

Sirius smirked. "Relax, pup. It’s not an insult. It’s nature. No matter how much he fights it, there will always be a line he can’t cross. And when he realizes it, you’re the one who has to be strong enough to keep him there."

Harry’s jaw locked.

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I will meet him. I owe you that much. And—" He paused, then smirked. "It is rather interesting, given that he’s Narcissa’s son."

Harry’s eyes flickered. "You knew her well, didn’t you?"

Sirius snorted. "As much as any Black knows another." His smirk faded slightly. "She always played her part well. But she was smart. Too smart to let her position slip." He glanced at Harry. "If Draco has even half of that in him, you’re in for a fight."

Harry exhaled, his expression unreadable.

Sirius studied him, then grinned. "I’ll be waiting this winter break, then. Let’s see what your little Omega is really made of."

The fire flickered. The last thing Harry saw was the sharp gleam in Sirius' eyes before the flames roared back to orange, swallowing him whole.

======

"I'm not going to Grimmuald place!" Draco practically shrieked. "I'm going to stay here or go home!"

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid that this is not negotiable."

"No," Draco snapped, taking a step back like he could physically distance himself from the conversation. "You lot have already forced me into too much—this bond, this whole situation. I left my mission. I turned my back on everything I’ve known. You can’t just keep deciding my life for me!"

Harry, standing a few feet away, crossed his arms and exhaled through his nose. "Draco, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be."

Draco let out a bitter laugh. "Not as bad? Not as bad? You want me to spend the holidays with a bunch of blood traitors who hate my existence. Yes, Potter, sounds positively delightful."

Harry gritted his teeth. "Well, you're bonded to a half-blood, your argument is void. Sirius is your mother’s cousin. He’s your family. And more importantly, he’s an Alpha. The current Head of the House of Black. He has a say over you."

Draco turned on him so fast that his robes billowed. "I don’t know if you realize this, Potter, but just because someone is an Alpha doesn’t mean they have a claim on me. He is not my Alpha."

"I'm your Alpha, and he's my Godfather. So yes."

"Why do you even care? What difference does it make where I go?”

Harry held his ground, arms crossed over his chest. “Because you’re my mate,” he said, voice firm. “And whether you like it or not, that means you’re coming with me.”

Draco sneered. “Oh, how romantic. Dragging me along like some pet just because your instincts tell you to? You don’t even like me, Potter. Don’t act like this is about concern or whatever nonsense you Gryffindors run on.”

Harry’s patience thinned. “I do like you, maybe if you're head wasn't so far up your ass, you would've noticed. You can’t go home. You know that.”

Draco’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “I could stay here.”

“No, you couldn’t.”

Draco turned sharply toward Dumbledore. “Why the hell not?”

“Because Voldemort knows you failed your mission, by not reporting to him anymore,” Harry said before the Headmaster could answer. “And he’s not going to forgive that.”

Draco’s breath caught in his throat.

Harry took a step closer, his voice dropping lower, steadier. “You really think you’re safe at Hogwarts with every Death Eater out there looking for an excuse to get back into his good graces? The second you step out of this castle, you’re as good as dead.” He let that sink in for a moment before adding, “And that’s before he finds out you’re an Omega.”

Draco’s stomach twisted violently, but he refused to let his expression betray it. “He doesn’t know,” he said, forcing his voice to remain even.

“No, he doesn’t,” Dumbledore agreed. “But I assure you, if he were to learn of it, your fate would be far worse than death.”

Draco felt cold all over, but he lifted his chin defiantly. “So what? I’m just supposed to accept this? That I have no say in anything anymore?”

“You have a say,” Harry said. “But running away isn’t an option. Grimmauld Place is.”

Draco stiffened—just for a fraction of a second, but it was enough. That cursed bond, that damned thing tying him to Potter, whispered in the back of his mind, telling him that was true. But he refused to be controlled. His mother had always taught him that there was always a way to turn the tide—even if escape wasn’t possible, he could still ensure he walked away with something in his favor.

Instead, he straightened and smoothed out his sleeves, his mind working rapidly. "Fine."

Harry blinked. "Fine?"

Draco inclined his head, smirking slightly at the way Potter’s surprise flickered in his eyes. "Yes, Potter. I’ll go. But I have conditions."

Dumbledore looked faintly amused, but Harry frowned. "You’re not in a position to bargain."

Draco ignored him. He turned to the Headmaster. "First, I want my own room. I refuse to be locked up like some Omega in heat, forced to share space with an Alpha for no reason other than your paranoia." His voice was perfectly controlled, but his pulse pounded in his throat.

Dumbledore nodded. "Though Harry is your Alpha, even so legally, I suppose that is reasonable."

Draco’s smirk grew. "Second, I am not to be treated like a charity case or a house pet. I am a Malfoy, and I will not be spoken to like I’m some helpless little Omega to be coddled." He flicked his gaze toward Harry. "That includes your godfather."

Harry muttered something under his breath, but Sirius wasn’t here to argue, so Draco counted that as a win.

"Third," Draco continued, pressing his advantage, "I want access to my family’s legal documents. If I am truly being forced to stay under the authority of another House, I want to have my family's information kept safely with me.

Dumbledore hummed. "That is a more complicated request."

Draco lifted a brow. "And yet not an unreasonable one."

Dumbledore studied him for a long moment before finally nodding. "I will see what can be arranged." he said, rather amused.

Draco exhaled slowly, steadying himself. He hated this. Hated being backed into a corner. But at least now, he had something to hold onto. Some semblance of control.

"I expect you to get my bags," He addressed Harry. "I am not moving shit."

Harry exhaled through his nose again. "You’re really exhausting, you know that?"

Draco shot him a smirk over his shoulder. "You haven't seen anything yet."

And with that, he strode out of the office, head held high.