Chapter 8
Harry’s stomach growled as he entered the dining room for lunch. Draco had taken to spending most of his time seated at the table with a cup of tea--earl gray that had to be steeped at a certain temperature. Peculiar really, he chewed Harry out for making too warm a brew that wasn't boiled enough.
Now, it was awkward, being seated with Hermione and Ron on one side and Draco on the other. He sipped his tea while glaring at them, only offering Harry a civil look. Ron glared right back at Draco while Hermione tried to appease them.
The table had a plate of shepherd's pie and varieties of tart and pudding. All Kreacher’s doing–the elf was desperate to impress Draco, and he did just that.
"So," Harry began, breaking the silence. He reached over the table with his hand and swallowed a spoonful of pie. "Any updates on the plan?" He glanced between Draco and the others, but his attention lingered on Draco, who was casually stirring his tea.
Draco didn’t immediately answer, taking his time with a sip from his cup before setting it down with deliberate slowness. “I received a letter back,” he said, almost offhandedly. “From Father.”
Harry blinked, slightly taken aback. “You didn’t mention that before.”
Ron’s eyebrows shot up. “You got a reply and didn’t say anything?”
Draco gave him a side-eye. “You didn’t ask,” He leaned back in his chair. "I haven't opened it yet."
“We don’t need to ask you dim–”
Harry exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. “Alright, well—open it now.”
Draco didn’t need the command. With practiced ease, he took the envelope out of his robes and broke the Malfoy crest, unfolding the parchment carefully, his eyes scanning the elegant script. His expression remained neutral, but Harry, ever attuned to him, could see the minuscule shifts—the slight twitch of his fingers, the faint tightening of his jaw.
After a moment of silence, Draco began reading aloud:
My son,
I trust you have upheld the dignity of our name, even in your current circumstances. Know that your mother and I remain in our rightful place, maintaining what influence we can. The Dark Lord, as expected, believes us cowed, and for now, that is advantageous. He values us, but only as we remain useful.
You were wise to reach out through the proper channels, rather than acting rashly. That is what separates us from lesser minds.
Draco huffed quietly at that, his lips quirking upwards, but continued.
As for your chosen mate—while the circumstances are unconventional, I acknowledge the necessity of your bond. The Malfoy line must endure, and if this union ensures your survival and continued standing, I will not stand in its way.
Draco paused and cleared his throat. His eyes darted once towards Harry before immediately looking away. He put the letter down and nodded at them.
Hermione blinked. “What?”
“Nothing, Granger,” Draco snapped and glared at her. “The rest of the letter isn’t important for you to read about, family business.”
Harry knew that it wasn’t nothing. The way Draco abruptly put the letter down told him exactly that. So, naturally, Harry leaned over and snatched the letter before Draco could stop him.
Draco made a noise of protest, but Harry was already scanning the parchment, his eyes locking onto a particular line and began reading out loud:
You may proceed with the consummation now, as I approve. Given your position, strengthening your claim sooner rather than later would be prudent.
At this, Draco’s ears went a bit pink. He growled and grabbed the letter from Harry, scratching his hand in the process.
Harry sat back in his chair, feeling something primal stir in his chest. Approval from Lucius Malfoy? Of him ? That was unexpected. Harry sat up straighter, feeling his inner Alpha stir at the approval. Yes, this was exactly what he was waiting for.
He tried not to look too smug.
Ron, on the other hand, had no such restraint.
“Wait— what ?!” He burst out laughing so hard he nearly fell off his chair. His entire face turned red, freckles practically disappearing in the flush. “I thought you two had already done it! Shagged, I mean. What, d’you need Daddy Malfoy’s written permission first?”
“Stop that, Ron,” Hermione hissed, elbowing him aggressively. “You’re not a child!”
Draco scoffed, turning his nose up. “As if you have any room to talk, Weasel. Looks like you’ll stay gaping like a fish since you heard my father approves of my relationship before your mother does yours.”
“Oh, so that’s what we’re calling it?”
“You–”
Ron grinned wickedly, as if an idea spawned in his head. “Should we step out, Malfoy? Give you two some privacy to, you know, ‘strengthen your claim’ or whatever?”
Draco looked scandalized. “You absolute vermin! Shut your bloody mouth before I hex it shut!”
“Stop that, both of you!” Hermione raised her voice, scolding the both of them. Only Ron had the decency to look like was chastised, Draco simply rolled his eyes.
“Yes, stop.” Harry agreed. His inner Alpha wasn’t thrilled with how they were snapping at each other, and it simmered just beneath the surface of his words. “Pack doesn’t act like this.” He took a slow breath and continued. “We’re in this together, yeah? We’re stronger when we work as a unit. That means no tearing each other down, no petty insults, and definitely no winding each other up just because you can.” His eyes flickered between them. “Understood?”
“I suppose so.” Ron muttered.
“Though I would love to have a go right now. . .”
“Bloody hell!” Ron laughed again while Draco turned redder, stuttering out a “Have you no shame!?”
Harry couldn’t help but smile, a slow, knowing curve of his lips. His hand slipped under the table, fingers gliding over the fine fabric of Draco’s trousers before settling on his thigh, patting it. He watched as Draco’s eyes widened just a fraction and his posture stiffened.
“Stop that.” Draco hissed, attempting to pull his hand away.
“Relax.” He whispered, ignoring how Hermione raised her eyebrow. She seemed to follow what he was doing because she shook her head in amusement.
Draco swallowed, his composure faltering for just a moment before he narrowed his eyes. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered, though his voice lacked bite.
Hermione, ever the peacemaker, cleared her throat. “Now that that’s settled… should we continue the letter?”
“Yes, Granger, you seem to be the only voice of reason here.”
“Yes,” Harry agreed easily before gripping the Omega’s thigh. “Go on, Draco, read.”
Draco bit his lip, seemingly swallowing a whimper before continuing with a breathless voice.
Now, to the matter at hand. You seek to extract us. Your mother and I are closely watched, but there are vulnerabilities. The Dark Lord has grown increasingly protective of his serpent, Nagini. I suspect she is of greater importance than he lets on—her presence is nearly constant, and he will not allow her to stray far. He will, however, send others to guard her when he is preoccupied. That is when we will act.
Draco’s fingers tightened around the parchment, his eyes flicking up to meet Harry’s.
“A horcrux, you suppose?” Draco asked.
Ron’s mouth opened in shock. “You know!? Merlin, Harry, you told him?”
Harry shook his head, leaning back slightly. "I only mentioned it," he admitted.
Draco lifted his chin, a smug glint in his eyes as he smoothed out the parchment on the table. "What, you think I’d just take Harry’s word for it and not verify?" he drawled. "Please. I had my suspicions the moment I saw how unusually protective the Dark Lord is of that wretched snake." His gaze flickered over to Harry, more serious now. "Finding the word only confirmed it. And I was right, wasn’t I?"
Ron let out a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair. "You researched Horcruxes? You know how dark that magic is, right? How dangerous?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Obviously, Weasel. I didn’t crack open a tome of Dark Arts and start chanting incantations. I read between the lines. It’s not difficult if you know where to look—and I do."
Hermione, who had been quiet up until now, leaned forward, eyes sharp with curiosity. "What exactly did you find, Draco?"
Draco tapped a finger against the parchment, lips pursed in thought. "You already know that the Dark Lord kills to split his soul into objects and other items. Sirius’s brother, Regulus, figured as much. Now, Nagini’s presence is more than just a companion at the Dark Lord’s side—she’s an anchor. He entrusts her to no one but the most loyal, and even then, only for brief periods. If my father is correct, then this is our best chance. If we separate her from him, we weaken him."
Harry exhaled slowly, his fingers flexing against his thigh. "That means we have to kill her."
Draco’s lips curled into something between a smirk and a grimace. "Which, I assume, you were planning to do anyway."
“But,” Hermione cut in. “I doubt that he only has a few horcruxes. Nagini, Regulus’s locket, what else?”
“The sword,” Harry said slowly, snapping his head towards Draco. “You said your aunt has a sword in her vault. I always suspected but was never sure. . .”
“Gryffindor’s sword. Harry, I think only a Gryffindor can wield it but. . .” Hermione said in awe. Her eyebrows were furrowed together, as if explaining a complex idea. “There’s also Slytherin’s locket. That means the remaining two houses must have something too. I’ve heard the rumors of missing items like Hufflepuff’s cup. Luna mentioned the story about Ravenclaw’s diadem.”
Draco nodded, impressed with her thinking process. He couldn’t help but admit, Granger had the brains to run a nation. Incredible how she surrounded herself with idiots.
Ron muttered something under his breath before shaking his head. "Alright, so what’s the plan, then? ‘Cause I doubt You-Know-Who’s just gonna let us stroll in and off his precious snake."
Harry swallowed. “He won’t. I’ve seen it in my dreams—he keeps her close. It’s different.” His stomach churned as the implications clicked into place.
Draco’s gaze flickered between them, calculating. "That," he said, "is where we have to get creative."
The grip on his thigh tightened, and Draco continued.
Snape remains our only reliable link. He plays his part well, but even he is under scrutiny. Use him, but do not rely on him entirely.
I will await your next move. Do not make me regret placing my faith in you.
L. Malfoy
Draco lowered the letter, exhaling slowly as he traced the edges of the parchment with his fingers. He traced the words, following his father’s strokes and admiring how the ink bled into the parchment. He kept his expression carefully neutral, but inside, a quiet warmth spread through him—something almost giddy. Approval. His father had given his blessing and was proud of him.
“Well,” he cleared his throat. “I suppose I could tell Professor Snape about Nagini.”
Hermione glanced between Draco and Harry, her brow furrowing in confusion. "But how exactly does Snape fit into all of this?" she asked, genuinely curious. "He’s... well, he’s a bit of a wildcard, isn’t he? He doesn’t exactly strike me as the type to help, not without some kind of personal gain."
Ron nodded in agreement, his tone skeptical. "Yeah, Snape and helping out our little group? You say so, but I don’t see it."
“He did save Harry from Professor Quirrell.” Hermione muttered as an afterthought.
Draco's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile as he looked at the two of them. "It’s funny," he said with a slight chuckle. "You’ve been around him long enough yet don’t understand him. Don’t forget that he is my Godfather. He will never hurt me. He is necessary."
Harry raised an eyebrow, his voice quiet but direct. "Necessary for what?"
Draco leaned back slightly. “Professor Snape can bring Nagini down. Or bring her to us. Or…” He tilted his head, considering the options. “We go to her.”
Before he could blink, Harry’s grip tightened on his thigh—hard. The pressure sent a sharp pulse up Draco’s spine, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from making a sound. His breath hitched slightly, but he covered it with a scoff. “Excuse me?”
Harry’s eyes were dark, unwavering. “You’re going nowhere near him.”
Draco stilled. There was something about the way Harry’s voice dropped, something raw and edged with finality. The heat from Harry’s palm seeped through his trousers, sending an unexpected shiver through him. He glanced at the others, who couldn’t see what Harry was doing—Ron, who looked mildly horrified, and Hermione, who was wisely keeping her expression neutral.
Draco cleared his throat, regaining some of his composure and ignoring the embarrassment he felt. “Well, if you’d let me finish, Potter,” he drawled, though his voice wasn’t quite as sharp as usual, “I was going to say that I’m well aware of the risks. I’m not stupid . Professor Snape is our best chance at maneuvering this, but worse comes to worse, someone will have to be there.”
Harry’s grip didn’t lessen. “And it won’t be you.”
Draco inhaled through his nose, willing away the warmth creeping up his neck. He glanced at Ron, who was watching with an odd mix of amusement and secondhand embarrassment.
“Nice, Harry,” Ron said rather smugly, shaking his head. “Never thought I’d see the day Malfoy got put on a leash.”
Draco turned his sharpest glare on him. “I am not on a leash.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Ron shot back with a snicker.
Hermione, sensing that the conversation was straying dangerously off-course, interjected. “Harry,” she said carefully, “Draco has a point. If Snape can bring Nagini to us, that’s ideal, but if he can’t, someone will need to be there.” She hesitated before adding, “And Draco knows how to move in those circles better than any of us.”
Harry’s jaw clenched, and his grip on Draco’s thigh remained firm, grounding. Protective. Draco swallowed. He’d never admit it, but Merlin’s beard , it did something to him.
“No,” Harry said after a long moment. “If we do this, it’s on my terms. No unnecessary risks. The most I’ll let Draco do is help us navigate from afar. ”
Draco rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Not this time, but maybe later. Instead, he lifted the letter slightly, glancing down at his father’s words once more.
—- (IMPLIED SEXUAL CONTENT)---
Draco sat cross-legged on his bed, a heavy potion book resting in his lap as he absentmindedly twirled his wand between his fingers, visualizing the stirring motion. The candlelight flickered against the walls, casting long shadows across the room, but his focus remained on the text before him.
He could feel a heavy stare leveling him, seeming to analyze everything about him.
Draco sighed without looking up. “You’re staring.”
Harry, who had been leaning against the doorframe for an hour now, grinned and pushed off to cross the room. “Hard not to.”
“You’re distracting me.”
“Am not.” Harry pouted.
Draco huffed but kept his eyes on his book. “If you’re here to be a distraction, I suggest you leave before I hex you.”
Harry didn’t budge. Instead, he flopped onto the bed beside Draco, peering at the book with feigned interest before plucking it right out of his hands.
Draco gasped, scandalized. The chapter was interesting, thank you very much. “I was reading that—”
“Draco,” Harry interrupted smoothly, tossing the book onto the nightstand. “We need to talk.”
Draco narrowed his eyes, arms crossing over his chest. “Oh? What now?”
Harry didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he scooted closer, reaching out to trail a hand along Draco’s arm. His touch was warm.
“I earned approval,” Harry murmured. “My pack. Your father. Even Sirius gave the go-ahead.” His fingers curled around Draco’s wrist, squeezing lightly. “There’s nothing stopping us.”
Draco swallowed, staring at him. That was incredibly weird. Sirius was neither his father nor Alpha caretaker. “You went to Black about this? The man that eats and drinks with us? The man that we see daily?”
Harry shrugged, looking infuriatingly nonchalant. “Had to make sure.”
Draco scoffed, but he couldn’t ignore the way his pulse quickened. Harry’s expression was soft, almost pleading , and Draco didn’t know what to do with that.
“You want this,” Harry continued, inching closer, his thumb brushing against Draco’s skin in a way that made it difficult to think. “You want me. I feel it in the bond. I want you too,” His voice dipped lower. “So why are you still holding back?”
Draco swallowed, tilting his chin up in stubborn defiance. “I never said I was holding back.”
Harry’s lips twitched, his eyes darkening with something teasing, something hungry . “No?”
Draco’s breath hitched as Harry moved even closer, their noses nearly touching. He hated how easily Harry could affect him, how one look could unravel the carefully constructed walls he had spent years building.
Draco pulled back slightly, unwilling to give in so easily. Even with his father’s approval, he felt like a rogue Omega, hiding behind his family’s back and shagging someone. Not very Malfoy.
"Draco..." Harry murmured softly, his eyes darkened with desire. But Draco wasn’t so easily swayed. Not when it came to something so significant.
“We have to wait,” Draco said, his voice barely more than a breath. The words were an anchor, but they felt hollow against Harry’s gaze. “There are traditions... proper etiquette. I—" He hesitated, shaking his head as if trying to clear the fog of his thoughts. "It’s not just about us. It’s about the way things are supposed to be. You don’t just rush into this. You have to follow the steps, understand?”
Harry’s expression softened, his hand lifting to gently touch Draco’s face. “I don’t care about tradition. I only care about you.” His thumb brushed Draco’s cheek, then down to stroke the collar that was snug around his neck.
Draco tried to steady his breath, shaking his head in protest. “I can’t just ignore all of it. I’m not ready... I... I don’t know, even with Father’s blessing." He bit his lip, his eyes flickering away, not wanting Harry to see the raw uncertainty in his gaze. "And... have you looked at yourself? I can’t even imagine how—how I’m supposed to—take it!" Draco's words stumbled out, flustered.
Harry's lips curved into a teasing smile. He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against Draco’s ear.
“I don’t care about that either,” Harry whispered. “I just want you, Draco. I’m not going to hurt you–I can’t wait any longer. I’ve waited long enough. We were made for each other.”
"Harry," Draco whispered hoarsely, his voice shaking slightly. "I’m... I’m not like you. I can’t just—"
Harry’s eyes darkened further, his gaze unwavering. “You are exactly like me,” he murmured. “Fate deemed you for me. And I’ll make sure you’re safe. I’ll take care of you.”
Harry bumped their foreheads together, his voice taking on that soft, coaxing tone Draco had no defenses against. “Let me have you.”
Draco whimpered and turned his face away, feeling a mixture of frustration and desire that he couldn’t quite suppress. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths as Harry’s presence seemed to envelope him, every inch of him a force Draco couldn’t escape.
Harry moved closer, his body pressing against Draco as he reached down, letting his fingers trace the line of Draco’s collarbone before dipping lower. He could feel the other omega’s body trembling under his touch.
“I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do,” Harry said quietly, his voice gentle yet full of a quiet power that made Draco’s chest tighten. “But I’m not going to let you pretend this isn’t what you need. You want this, Draco. You want me, just as much as I want you.”
His trousers were gone in an instance, and Harry leaned back to admire the scene before him. Draco’s pale skin was flushed red, and he trembled, baring his neck.
“Ready?” Harry asked.
Draco whined and nodded, his hands trembling at his sides.
With a deep breath, Harry finally aligned himself with Draco, the moment of contact sending a jolt of heat through both of them.
Draco trembled.
His breath hitched as Harry pressed inside— initial stretch, the feeling of being filled in a way that was both overwhelming and consuming.
He could feel the weight of the knot forming between them, the pressure building until it was unbearable.
“Oh,” Draco breathed, eyes widening at the stretch.
“I’m going to put a baby in you.”
His mind spun as the implications settled in. "A baby?" Draco repeated breathlessly, his voice shaky, almost a whisper.
His teeth scraped over Draco’s bonding mark, making him shudder. “You’re going to carry my pups. Going to feed them.”
"Harry..." Draco moaned, his voice barely a whisper, caught between hesitation. He wanted that, wanted his own baby to hold and feed. A baby that was proof of his and Harry’s bond. “Alpha!”
“Omega.”
Draco’s heart skipped a beat at the word. He looked up at Harry, his voice soft and uncertain, “You want me to carry your baby?”
Me? His thoughts raced, words unsaid . An omega from a Death Eater family?
“Draco,” Harry whispered, his voice low and urgent, “Only you. Draco–”
Draco gasped as he felt the pressure building between them. The knot clicked into place, and he couldn’t help but wail, his body instinctively responding. It was overwhelming, both painful and perfect at the same time.
Draco clung to Harry, the world narrowing down to just them—two souls, bound together, not by their pasts, but by their future.