ep 5
Draco Malfoy was not imagining things.
Something was wrong with Potter.
It started small. A delayed response during an Auror meeting. A faint scent that didn’t quite match the usual sterile charm Harry always carried. And the way his magic felt—off. Faintly sparking, like a frayed wire.
Draco didn’t like things he couldn’t define.
And he certainly didn’t like not knowing something about Harry Potter.
It had been nearly two months since the night at Vesper.
He remembered it in flashes: soft skin, trembling fingers, a scent like crushed leaves and smoke. Warmth, need, and a voice whispering, I’m yours, just for tonight.
He hadn’t seen the omega’s face. Just a flash of green eyes under the glamoured mask. And after, when he woke up alone, he told himself it didn’t matter.
Because he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
And now, every time he got close to Potter, something twisted in his chest.
Harry barely made it through the day.
His magic was pulsing strangely again. The fetus responded to his emotions more than he was prepared for. He kept suppressants steady, but it wasn’t enough. His skin itched, his nerves sparked, and his glamours flickered every time someone brushed too close.
But Malfoy—bloody Malfoy—was everywhere.
He showed up at training reviews, team briefings, even filed joint requests on open-case reviews. It was like he had nothing better to do than orbit Harry.
And the worst part was, Draco kept looking at him.
It happened in the middle of the Atrium.
Harry was on his way to the lift, files in hand, when someone bumped into his shoulder hard.
Pain flared across his lower back.
He winced, staggering sideways, files flying.
Magic flared out from his body, a bright, pulsing burst of instinctual defense.
The air cracked. People stumbled. Several gasped as the wave of scent and power rolled through the Atrium.
Draco was there in a heartbeat.
Comments
Anne
maybe mood swings come already
2025-06-12
0