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)

Chapter Text

Published date on AO3: 25/10/2025

Original published date on Twitter: 18/06/2025

— (Respectfully, Totally) Yours —

No one knows that Draco has a pierced left nipple, one closest to his heart.

No one except Harry—who is both the reason and the cause of it—of fucking course.

Every day and night, working or resting, with or without Harry by his side, the jewelry on Draco's chest—unseen by anyone else but the owner—is always carefully selected. The stud or the ring is either dangling with 'HJP' or 'Harry's'. Or a heart with Harry's name, or a lightning, or something that is clearly referring to Harry, even with the briefest glance. Draco loves his pierced nipple so much that he has a full collection of its decoration by the third month of their courtship—full of ones that are either those he bought himself or were given as gifts from his doting, loving Harry.

Since Harry claimed his innocence, his sweet pink nub on the left is always worshipfully abused and adorned. So far from the sweet, untouched sacrality expected from an unwedded Pureblood heir it...he once was.

Harry loves how he can single-handedly shape Draco as he desires, and how Draco just gives in and lets him do as he wishes, just like that.

Draco's body is their first shared creation—one of many, many more to come.

How Draco's pierced nipple—his whole body, mind, and soul, really—responds to Harry even from his kindest, purest smile is his pride.

However, unlike the left side, his right nipple is perfectly virgin from the piercing—as Harry proclaims it to will forever be—because he wishes to have both tastes of the 'pure' and the 'slutty' sides of Draco while fucking him senseless.

"One represents who you appeared to be before me—carefully guarded, well-protected. But alluring, begging for me nonetheless." His lover told him once when Draco asked about his right side. "And another one reveals who you truly are after I was done devouring and stripping you bear from the deceptive, Pureblood-approved façade—raw, ruined. Owned." Harry claimed with passion, whisper barely audible. "And both versions are fucking—" Kiss. "—Forever—" Another kiss. "—Mine."

Those words were heavier and more grounding than any Unbreakable Vows.

Who is Draco to reject his beloved husband-to-be?

He willingly falls deeper into his arms, his possession.

With the contrast between his nipples, Harry's one of the most favourite sceneries in the world is Draco lying helplessly under him—breathlessly, thoroughly fucked. His unseeing eyes roll up like a sated, properly bred slut he is, pale skin red and bruised with exhaustion and numerous bite and kiss and hand marks his owner left on it like thousand mating claims, unconsciously smiling lips swollen and red with umpteen kisses and bites, chin wet with drool like a stupid, brainless broodmare. His too spent body is moving up and down the mattress with Harry's unforgiving force of thrusts—shaking but plaint, unresponsive but welcoming. Not unlike a lifeless fuck doll of the highest quality.

That always makes Harry goes blindly feral.

Exactly like tonight.

On the sanctuary of their shared bed, Draco Malfoy—Harry Potter's one and only precious sweetheart, his fucking Guide and Deity—is happily drown in his beloved's evidence of unending lust and unmeasurable love, all for him and him alone. The outside world is meaningless when they are in the middle of a sacred ritual of exchanging their passionate words and touch of devotion in not-so secrecy. The rest of humanity can crumble, and people can get burnt alive right in front of them, and neither Harry nor Draco will ever care.

Harry will love his darling Draco until the world ends.

His soon-to-be wife is fucking godly, reverently perfect in every way—ideally, flawlessly so. One in a billion...no, one in a fucking millennium.

And he is Harry's and Harry's alone. He is marked and claimed since the second their eyes met for the first time—whether they realised the fact right then and there or not is irrelevant.

Draco is Harry's.

His mind, body, and soul.

His everything.

And Harry is Draco's in every aspect of the world.

They belong together.

People can see his Draco's charming smile and sharp wit, his gorgeous face and superior manners, his modestly covered skin and impeccably dressed body. But they will never, ever have a chance to see the side that Harry solely owns, cherishes, and guards with his own life.

Like right now.

No one knows that if focusing on physical aspect only, the crown jewel of it all is definitely Draco's thoroughly bred pussy and gaping-wide asshole—both leaking with his own slick and Harry's thick cum, that left unsaid. But the second most mesmerising part of Draco-soon-to-be-Potter's body?

It is his chest.

His chest, which is marked with Harry's curse scar of eternal ownership, getting more tempting second by second when pretty pink, innocent-looking nipples turn pitiful red due to love disguised under unrelenting abuse. Harry can't stop himself from sucking the unpierced one harder, while another is pulled with its own statement-making accessory, teasingly untouched by warmth of tongue nor skin.

The quiet meowing and sweet begging drive Harry crazier in love, if that even possible.

With most of his cock sill buried inside, he intentionally grinds his coarse hair covered pelvis on the sweet, too far-opened cunt lips and flaming hot, throbbing clit above them as a silent warning, before retreating to leave just the enlarged head right at the entrance, keeping it open and ready. To forbit his pillow princess to brattily wail with frustration from cock-withdrawal—literally and figuratively—Harry then fucks his painfully hard cock deep inside the loose hole and its futtering wall to the hilt in one go. It is far harder, rougher, beastlier than earlier round, hitting the cherished sweet spot head on for the thousand times that night, effortlessly claiming his baby chamber once again. As predicted and aimed for, stimulating his cock slut of a princess' sensitive womb prompts half-passing out Draco to scream and thrust his well-loved chest up into the air—serving the delicious treat right into his betrothed's waiting mouth.

Harry's mouth is on his hard nipple and Draco's mouth is on his hard cock, both rigid rods are either getting sucked or thrusting in and out of willing mouths—it's a totally fair trade in Harry's book.

When Harry is finally satisfied with the shape and form the pitiful nub becomes, the bare nipple is so swollen and red to the point of almost bleeding—or lactating. It's like a ripe fruit at its peak—sweet and calling. Enticing. The deep red colour coated with glistening saliva make it looks like the most tempting, most salivatory candied cherry in the world.

Too bad he can't taste it again now, as another nipple is waiting for him for far, far too long.

Well, the first nipple is promptly forgotten anyway, when Harry finally has a good look on the dangle on the nipple ring that keeps hitting Draco's skin with impact of Harry's fucking.

"Like...ah! Like it, My Darling?" Draco—with smugness a cock drunk princess with a cock as enormous as his whole arm deep inside his cunt can possibly gather—asks with prideful smirk.

It's totally warranted when Harry reads the words on the gold jewelry, however, as it says 'Harry's slut' in shiny gold on scarlet enamel. The dangle is heart-shaped, bright Gryffindor red, with a lightning bolt in faintly shimmering gold and all.

Draco is always too shy to call himself a slut for Harry—at least out loud and with a clear head—although he undeniably, unarguably is and says so in the heat of his carnal desire.

Ahh, so it's definitely a new one.

"Hmm. I made it myself, of course." Draco purrs, pecking his lips briefly, cutely, when his everything else screams seduction. "Send magic to activate it?"

Harry does without a word. No wand or any movement of his body required—just his intention and rapidly building expectation.

The lightning bolt on the heart-shaped dangle glitters and flickers beautifully golden, exactly at the rhythm of Harry's heartbeat. It signifies a successful connection to his power, allowing his magic to always touch and caress Draco's pierced nipple with the dangle and the ring it attached to as his mediums, even without a direct physical touch between them. Harry's instinct tells him that it will remains so even when they are at the different corners of the world.

His presence will be constant and right there, if Harry wishes to.

And he fucking wishes to.

Still not recovering from the divine sight and astonishing realisation, a small pale golden bell suddenly appears on the ring alongside the dangle. It's a tiny little thing but clearly visible at close proximity. However, just a slight movement of his beloved's smooth chest makes it rings quite loud and clear that he is so sure that without Silencio, no layers of stuffy clothes can hide it completely.

Wandlessly and wordlessly, Harry sends his magic right on the sign of his ownership again, as a trial.

The gold warms significantly on Draco's brushing skin, the intensity of it overwhelms the default pulsation that derived from Harry's heartbeat. The jolt of sharp power triggers the already hard nipple to be more perturbed.

The bell rings prettily.

The perfectly untouched nipple turns from innocent pink to lewd red, as if being pinched and pulled for a short while.

"Appreciate my finest gift, will you?" The smile on Draco's kiss-swollen lips is so vicious and winning at the same time. "And, ah—" Draco presents his heartwarming gift right on Harry's panting lips, dainty finger gently pries his mouth open, so the nub is finally engulfed in the waiting warmth of Harry's direct touch. "—Happy engagement, Darling."

His own heart rate against his lips elevates.

The ringing sound, together with Draco's sated moan, resonate deep into his core.

They bring his wit back to him.

Releasing the presenting nipple and ignoring the wail and the hit on his shoulder for his trouble and negligence, Harry thrusts his half-buried cock up to the front of Draco's pussy, shaking his whole body with the impact while also shooting bigger amount of magic to the jewelry.

Draco's left nipple suddenly becomes as abusedly red and sensitively swollen as the right one. Not just that, his left breast also flushes bright pink and visibly quivers, like when Harry massages and kneads it with vigour.

The bell jiggles according to every shove and pull, producing a song as if a music in crazy storm—chaotic and animalistic. Ferocious and free.

Heavenly, like Draco's face and voice when he hoarsely cries and wildly squirts on his punishing, unforgiving cock.

With his triumph in finally making Lucius' resolve run thin and receiving his blessing and approval to ask for Draco's hand in marriage, his sweetheart rewards him with the best gift, of course. He should expect this.

And of course it's now Harry's new favourite!

"Don't cry when I properly appreciate it, Darling." He roars. Turning a deaf ear to Draco's meow for a break after his orgasm, the star Auror uses his training and endurance to brutally push and drag and force Draco to the edge of insanity and bliss again and again. With the sight, warmth, and sound of the gift on his personal pillow princess' chest, Harry feels like he can fuck Draco until next week, possibly more.

He can't wait to activate the nipple jewelry on their workdays and make Draco's pale pink bud turn as stunning red and well-loved as this under his immaculate Healer uniform. Just imagining his precious, genius betrothed flushing pink and shivering with lust and shame when the bell is suddenly activated and then rings right in the middle of random patient examination makes him blind with lust. Thinking that someone else will notice and discover their intimate play when Harry sends his magic to an unassuming Draco's nipple, prompting him to whimper and his bud to lewdly raise for the outsiders to see makes Harry excited and jealous at the same time.

The fate of them fucking in front of some poor-luck person is now fucking set on stone. Harry will fucking breed Draco right in front of them and then obliviate the memory away to the point that they almost forget their own name.

Yes. Bloody fucking yes. That will be Harry's gift to Draco. There is no better way to celebrate their engagement than trying their shared kinks of public sex and voyeurism together, especially one that derived from Draco's gift for the same occasion.

His Draco deserves that as a praise and thank for the cute message showing his deep devotion. He is so fortunate and lucky that his perfect princess never fails him, not even once.

Harry loves him more and more every single day.

With a tug on the warm golden dangle by his teeth, like a start signal of a new episode of love making, Harry swallow-sucks the whole tiny breast like a madly in love beast, while his hips breed his darling wife-to-be like an animal mating his broodmare.

The jingling bell validifies the thought further.

However, instead of resisting his advance like earlier, the cock-drunk broodmare in question just accepts his fate by invitingly spreading his thighs wider so his gaping cunt is fully stuffed and properly filled. The sound of their coupling is so raw and shameful that Harry wants to keep cumming inside until Draco's cock-bulged belly becomes cum-bulged belly, like both of them love to create and see.

Draco is perfect. Cock-drunk and cum-drunk Draco whose sanity and sense of shame fucked right out of his mind is even more flawless.

Harry loves him very fucking much.

"Love you, my pretty little slut. My Draco."

And he won't stop until the message engraved deep onto his soul.

"Mine. Mine. Fucking forever. Mine!"

"Ye—yes, yours, Harry! Yours!"

Never.

— The End —

(2,354 words)

Chapter Text

Published date on AO3: 30/11/2025

Original published date on Twitter: 02/02/2025

— HJP's No.1 Top Spender —

Draco definitely has all HJP's official merch, especially ones that are introduced by Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Amongst them all, the one he loves most is the life-sized pillow with life-sized dildo attached to it (thanks WWW's special product line for their most esteemed customers). It even has a face that can response and talk back!

It's soft but firm. Buff but easily manageable. The cock is enormous and beautiful, one that's claimed to be the exact replica of the real deal. During the day, he dresses it up smartly and cuddles it like a lover. During the night, Draco bounces on it like a slut in heat, having all types of practices with it to his heart's content, hoping to be an expert when getting the real thing one day.

He fucks it dutifully every single night, no exception, sometimes he even does it during the broad daylight.

Draco is so diligent and willful that he could take it all to the hilt with just several weeks of practice, considering that he could only take the fat head inside that first night it broke his tight ass in.

However, he doesn't know that there is a camera inside the pillow, and that the dildo is linked directly to Harry's cock—touch, taste, smell.

Thus, it's practically Harry's real cock attached to Draco's beloved fuck pillow, and he could see, hear, feel all the lewd wishes and needs Draco ever dreams of—Harry can even move the pillow and fuck Draco through it! He can mount Draco's delectable ass when Draco is too spent to bounce on his cock. He can motivate and praise him when he can suck more than the cockhead inside. He can fuck his stubborn blond until he faints, then sleep with his cock plunged deep and secured to block his cum from leaking out.

He can do everything and anything, and Draco is so willing and ready for him. Always.

This starts and possible because Harry knows that Draco loves ordering and collecting all his merch from every shop and store, either innocent or lewd one (via his daily stalking, plus the twins giddily tell him, against their professionality). So, he sets up the special one only for his Draco. Not know any better, Draco thinks it's normal that the pic on the pillow can change and talk like real Harry, that the dildo can fuck him million ways through the night and cum plentifully by itself. Thus, he keeps doing it, addicted, because he's too afraid and prideful to reach out or accept Harry's courting when he's not 'ready'.

He keeps practicing, hoping to get ready. Preferably soon.

When the blond gets sick and analyzes himself with a spell a month later, Draco is shocked that he's pregnant.

Pregnant? Him??!?!

How the fuck could he get pregnant when he has never taken a real cock, let alone real cum? Does he have a virgin pregnant or something? Is he the upcoming Muggle's god?!?!? Or, did someone fuck him in his sleep? This is Malfoy Manor. It's impossible!

Before Draco can go feral, Harry invites himself to the Manor, in his bedroom, and tells him that there were some errors on his set of merch that the twins asked him—another person who has been affected by them greatly—to notify the customer involved.

"What a surprise that it's actually you, Draco. How is it? Hope it didn't harm you yet. You seemed totally fine last night anyway 😉"

Mortified and ashamed that the cat's out of the bag, Draco threatens to sue WWW if someone doesn't take responsibility immediately. He promises the twins will go straight to Azkaban for their products if they don't rectify it!

"I'm a Malfoy! Malfoy must be properly courted and worshipped! Malfoys don't do a casual relationship or one-night stand! Malfoys don't have a baby out of marriage! This destroys my family's legacy as the most respected and prim and proper purebloods. I demand compensation and resolve right this instant! Or I'll sue your brothers and the whole Weasley clan and YOU!"

"Oh! No need for that. I'm the major investor too, you see? I'll take responsibility! Please don't sue our company? 🥺 I'll marry you and take care of you and our child. All problems solved! ☺️"

Before Draco can process the negotiation or utter an answer, Harry spells his day robes to change into a white wedding dress with brilliant and delicate details. Definitely hand crafted and tailored to fit him perfectly. Then, the Savior with a mission carries him to the marriage register office to complete their marriage bond, with Minister Kingsley, the Weasleys, Andie and Teddy, and the Malfoys as witnesses.

(Narcissa so is elated and tearful with joy that she can finally attend her son's dream comes true, while Lucius is heavily restricted by numerous magical restraints, totally unmoved and blissfully quiet).

Just mere hour after Draco discovered that he's with child, he, together with Harry, are pronounced husband and wife, with happy cheers and whistles from their families.

Before Draco can even get a full panic that he has a baby, he's married with his one and only crush?

Life is crazy but works exactly as he pleases sometimes.

"Sorry for rushing it, Love." Harry says while cuddles him on his lap—well protected and loved—on their marital bed in Grimmauld Place. "We need to announce our baby expectant within wedlock, right? So this is our private marriage ceremony to allow our baby's legitimacy. Now we can start planning for another one—more expensive, grander, very public one! With over 3,000 guests and an international broadcast. How about next month? Or the end of this month? I want it to be next week but it'll be the wedding of the century. We must be patient and totally prepared, I guess. I'm sure our mothers—I mean Narcissa and Molly—are sharing ideas with Andie right now. Do you know that they now have weekly tea party at Molly's? Anyway, Kingsley said we can celebrate it anywhere we want. He ensured that we could get everything we ever desired. What do you think, sweetheart? Any ideas? Are you ready for the second one?"

Getting relax in Harry's embrace, he sees no flaw in Harry's idea. So of course Draco agrees.

"...I want all of the best designers for my dresses—both magical and muggle. Deal with Statue of Secrecy and appoint them for me in a single session tomorrow. I expect my dresses to take at least a month with all manpower combined."

"Of course, love! Only the best for you."

So, they get married twice. And the second one becomes the most famous national event of all times.

(But the dress appointment is postponed for 3 days, because they have to officially consummate their marriage and celebrate their first pregnancy and child that afternoon. Wedding preparation is for later!)

— The End —

(1,179 words)

Chapter Text

Published date on AO3: 05/12/2025

Original published date on Twitter: 02/02/2025

— Heaven in Your Kisses —

Harry feels like ascending to heaven when he opens his eyes to the most beautiful scenery in the world—his Draco sleeping in his arms, peaceful, content, with drool on his cheek and quiet snores from his throat. Morning ray of sunlight paints him golden and gleaming with blessing and hope. Love and forever. Together and undivided.

Harry's wish of more rest always disappears with just mere second of this masterpiece. Looking at his wife in his sleep and peppering him with kisses and whispering his devotion are far more important and refreshing than 12-hour sleep after a week-long mission. Tightening his embrace, he intends to stay just like this as long as he could, before he would ascend to another level of completion when starlight-silver eyes finally open and look back right into his, when they sparkle with adoration and contentment and happiness. When the sweetest smile is formed solely for his pleasure, accompanied with "Good morning, darling" and a set of kisses on his chest, neck, chin, cheeks, and finally lips. When Harry lets himself be carried away by the familiar scent and welcoming ritual shared only between them. When Harry whispers back a "Good morning, my love" and deepens the kiss to converse how grateful he is.

When they could start another day of their eternity, together.