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Let Out the Beast

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Harry loved his job, he genuinely did.

When he decided to quit his Auror training, he didn’t right away think his next move would be begging Minerva McGonagall to give him a job, or else he would drown himself in self-pity because he was the last one of his peers without any plan for his future. But that was what he ended up doing, after two failed attempts at ministry work and one embarrassing venture as a Quibbler journalist later, he was more or less a desperate unemployed wizard with too many expectations on his shoulders. To Harry’s delight, the headmistress was more than happy to let him fill the ever cursed position of the DADA professor in Hogwarts.

And it was so much better than he expected. Teaching was quite simple and surprisingly very rewarding. He loved being around young witches and wizards discovering the wonder of magic in the very castle he always considered his home. The youthful spirit of Hogwarts, filled with both innocence and mischief, was something that Harry could only feel and relish now that he was an adult. Not to mention he got to teach the subject which had always interested him at the same time deeply exploring the intricate art of it.

All in all, being a Defense Against Dark Arts professor was about the closest thing to what Harry thought his dream job would be.

There was only one thing in his job description that he despised: waking up early.

No matter when his class started that day, McGonagall required all teachers and staff to be present in the Great Hall for breakfast. She reasoned that it was when she usually made her school-related announcements and she didn’t want anyone to miss them. But Harry thought it was more of a disciplinary measure of the strict headmistress than anything else. She just wanted the teachers to set a good example by being ready and presentable first thing in the morning.

And that was what Harry had been consistently struggling with for the two years of his career as an educator. This morning, he left his bed after barely two hours of sleep, spending most of the previous night at his desk, grading last week’s exam he promised he would hand to his second-year students today. See, Harry was a responsible adult who worked hard all night. At least that was what he convinced himself, ignoring the fact that he was the one procrastinating on grading that exam until the very last minute.

So here he was now, grumbling under his breath and trudging along to reach the Great Hall with dark shadows under his eyes, his body heavy from sleep deprivation. He was not looking forward to pretending to be “ready and presentable” in front of his students during breakfast, as McGonagall so expected. Not that he would have time to have breakfast, though. Harry knew he was late and he would be grateful if he could even get his tea before the first lesson started.

As soon as he entered the Great Hall, the familiar morning buzz from each of the House’s tables greeted him. On other days, Harry enjoyed the ambiance of excited youngsters ready to tackle their days, but today, the sound just amplified the bad headache he was having.

But, as he walked toward the teachers’ table at the far end of the hall, Harry noticed something was different. Before his eyes or ears could pinpoint anything unusual, his nose picked up something first. A scent. Somehow, above the delicious smell of the meals served for breakfast, a strong, unknown scent reached him.

Harry’s steps halted.

It was like nothing Harry had ever smelled before, intense and almost overpowering, but he knew what that scent was. It was the scent of an alpha.

That in itself was very confusing. People presented as their inner wolf at the age of twenty, so the scent couldn’t come from a student. But no alpha was allowed to work at schools or anywhere with a lot of children. It was unexpected to smell that scent first thing after entering the Great Hall of Hogwarts.

Harry’s confusion only grew when his eyes caught up and spotted another unusual thing in the hall. There, at the end of the teachers’ table, sat someone Harry hadn’t seen for years. But, no matter how long it was, Harry would always know who that platinum blond hair belonged to.

Draco Malfoy was chatting with Hagrid, his posture looked casual enough but his pointy face had a solemn expression on it. Harry couldn’t hear what Malfoy said from where he was standing, but whatever it was, it prompted a big, hearty laugh from the half-giant he was talking to, attracting attention from a few students.

Harry tried his best, but his mind simply failed to understand why Draco Malfoy was here in Hogwarts, having breakfast like he was right where he meant to be and smelling so strongly like an alpha. He didn’t even know Malfoy presented as an alpha, considering they hadn’t seen each other in years. The last time he saw the man was at his trial after the war when the two of them were just about to be eighteen. It was over five years ago.

A little part of his mind told him that Malfoy shouldn’t be here. An alpha shouldn’t be around children at all. They were aggressive and dangerous, known for their lack of self-control, and letting them in a castle full of underage witches and wizards was simply irresponsible. Harry needed to take Malfoy out of here.

But somehow, another part of him wanted to drag Malfoy out of the room for an entirely different reason. As soon as that strong scent hit him, Harry felt something in him stir, something so primal and fierce that he didn’t even know was in him before. Something that yearned for that scent to engulf him, dominate him, and just be the only thing he could sense.

To his horror, Harry could feel his body react to the scent like it never had to anything else before. A flame ignited in his lower belly and the heat spread to every inch of his body quickly. Harry was bewildered. He knew how alphas smelled, he had his fair share of associating with them during his time working at the Ministry, but this was a different scent entirely. It was undoubtedly the scent of an alpha, but there was something else in it that forced the odd reactions from Harry, luring him. And that scent came from the one and only Draco Malfoy, who showed up out of nowhere this morning in the Great Hall of Hogwarts.

Just as the heat in his body crept dangerously near his crotch and Harry’s rational mind decided to bolt out of the room, a voice was heard from his side.

“Is something wrong, Harry?”

Whipping his head to the left, Harry found Neville peering at him curiously, his eyebrows raised. The sudden presence of his friend was somehow enough to distract him from his inexplicable turmoil, pulling him back to where he was.

But then his brain registered what Neville just said and Harry stared at him with a frown of confusion. What kind of question was that? Of course, there was something wrong, Malfoy was sitting with the other teachers as if he belonged here!

Carefully choosing his words, Harry said as he not-so-discreetly pointed to the man, “What is Malfoy doing here?”

Neville’s eyes followed his finger to see the blond, who indeed was still engaging in a Merlin-knows conversation with Hagrid. “I heard he’ll be teaching Potions starting today,” he said calmly, shrugging.

“What?” Harry said in disbelief. “But he can’t work here! He’s an alpha!”

With raised eyebrows, Neville turned to him again. “What are you talking about? Malfoy is a beta.”

What the fuck? Couldn’t Neville smell his scent? Harry had never smelled an alpha’s scent as strong as this before. Surely no one else would miss it, right?

Before Harry could say anything else, Neville put his hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you still have something against him from the past, but you know McGonagall wouldn’t let an alpha work in her school. Malfoy is a beta,” he said, repeating his last statement. “Speaking of McGonagall, looks like she’s about to make an announcement. Come on, let’s take a seat.”

Harry was beyond confused with the fact Neville was unaware of Malfoy being an alpha, he couldn’t even correct him that he certainly had nothing against the man anymore. Instead, he let the Herbology professor half-usher and half-drag him to the teachers’ table, thankfully on the other side from Malfoy. Even from the distance, Harry could feel the scent assaulting his senses. He gulped.

Soon, he noticed that not only Neville but everyone on the teachers’ table—no, the entire hall—didn’t notice the strong scent that exuded from the new person in the room. McGonagall stood up to stand behind her podium, wished her students good morning, and then announced the additional member of Hogwarts’ teaching team. She started by mentioning the qualifications and achievements that Malfoy earned after he graduated, which was followed by low whistles and polite applause, but Harry could barely absorb any information. He was perplexed that he seemed to be the only one bothered by Malfoy's scent.

McGonagall continued introducing the new professor, prompting Malfoy to stand up in his spot thus making more applause and whistles erupt in the hall. Amid his confusion, Harry stared at the side profile of Malfoy, who was still standing on full display just across the table. He kept his gaze until the man sat back down, following his movements as he felt the scent begin to overwhelm him again.

The whole time, Malfoy didn’t spare him a glance.

 


 

“Did you see him today? He braided his hair and it’s beautiful!”

“I walked past him earlier in the hallway and let me tell you, he smelled so good. Like something citrusy, both sweet and very fresh.”

“Yesterday I failed my potions project on purpose and the detention I got was the best two hours of my life. His cold and mysterious side is just irresistible!”

“I know, right? And the fact that he redeemed himself after what he did in the war...”

If Harry had to overhear one more student talk about Malfoy with creepy admiration as if the new professor was some kind of hot, misunderstood ex-villain… well, Harry hadn’t decided what he would do, but it wouldn’t be pretty. Definitely not as pretty as those schoolgirls think that prat is, Harry thought with a scoff as he briskly walked to his quarters after a long day of teaching.

“If only I hadn’t realized my sexuality when I was twelve, Professor Malfoy would surely have been my gay awakening,” said a Hufflepuff boy to his friend, both of them casually leaning on a wall.

Harry almost stumbled on his own feet when he heard that. Luckily, the reflexes that he got from being a Seeker for years caught him before he could fall face-first on the stone floor. The two Hufflepuff students, belatedly noticing it was Harry walking in front of them, jerked from where they stood and hurriedly walked away, heads down in embarrassment.

Merlin. Apparently not only schoolgirls. Harry gritted his teeth.

When he reached his quarters, slamming the door as he walked in, Harry threw his stuff carelessly to the ground and flopped onto his favorite armchair facing the fireplace. Tiredly, he ran his hand through his face and slouched deeper in his seat.

It barely had been a week since Malfoy came to Hogwarts to take up the position of the new Potions professor, but it felt like Harry had had just about enough. It was very confusing; not only no one but him realized that Malfoy was an alpha, but it also seemed like Harry’s concern that the man wouldn’t be able to act appropriately around children was very misplaced. If anything, Harry started to wonder if he needed to worry for Malfoy, in case those teenagers with raging hormones decided to go too far and act inappropriately around him.

Alphas were supposed to be aggressive, uncontrollable. They were dangerous with highly fluctuating temperament, hence it was generally accepted that they shouldn’t work in places like schools and hospitals where their nature could risk the people in it. But, as far as what Harry observed from afar, Malfoy was anything but those traits. He was always calm and collected—almost too calm, in Harry’s opinion. Most of the time, Malfoy was very impassive. Unlike the sneering kid, Harry remembered him from their days as students at Hogwarts, this adult Malfoy had a permanent unimpressed look on his face. Like he couldn’t be bothered to show any emotion.

Maybe he took a suppressant like other alphas working in a public workplace, but Harry knew even that suppressant didn't work perfectly—yet he hadn’t seen any crack in Malfoy.

But Malfoy unmistakably being an alpha who didn’t act like an alpha at all wasn’t the most confusing part of this whole ordeal. It wasn’t even the fact that everyone seemed to be oblivious of Malfoy’s… alpha-ness. It was Harry’s reaction to Malfoy being an alpha.

Yes, Harry was an omega, and it wasn’t the first time the scent of an alpha had enticed him, but it was never exactly like this before. No scent, not from an alpha—or anyone, had made Harry feel a desire so fierce and overwhelming. No one had made Harry almost lose every single shred of his self-control like Malfoy and his very alluring scent.

He recalled when he met the Potions professor earlier in the teachers’ lounge this morning. Malfoy was sitting on one of the settees there, a cup of tea held between his long, slender fingers, and a stack of parchments in front of him. Harry came to the lounge before his class to grab extra ink, but as soon as he entered the room, Malfoy’s scent assaulted him in such a powerful way that it was a miracle Harry didn’t end up jumping on him. If Harry had to be honest, he barely escaped his predicament without embarrassing himself, like popping a very inappropriate boner in front of his colleague.

What made it even worse was certainly Malfoy’s reaction—of the lack thereof. While Harry was battling the last of his dignity over his unwanted arousal for him, Malfoy was as unaffected as he could be. Like this morning in the teachers’ lounge, Malfoy didn’t bother to give Harry more than an uninterested glance and a nod, as though he wasn’t aware of how troubled Harry was whenever he was around.

A nod, a polite smile, sometimes a quick hello or have a nice day. Or, when Malfoy didn’t care enough to pretend to act decently polite, an arch of his pale eyebrow. Those were all the interactions Harry had had with Malfoy so far, and it was so fucking frustrating.

It was so frustrating because even though Malfoy clearly had nothing to do with him, Harry’s body refused to understand. All it cared about was to react to that strong scent Malfoy was exuding. A scent that only Harry could smell.

Oh, that scent.

Harry gulped as his mind provided him with that delicious scent, flooding his brain with memories of when he walked past Malfoy and that scent blanketed him. It almost felt like a trap and an Imperius was put on Harry as an invisible force pushed him toward Malfoy. At that moment, Harry couldn’t think of anything but how much he wanted Malfoy to take him, right there and then.

Unconsciously, Harry’s hand slipped under his robe, grabbing his half-hard cock. Harry closed his eyes, a moan escaped him from the first upward stroke.

Only in the safety of his private quarters, did Harry let himself release a bit of the building tension he felt every day now that Malfoy was back to his life.

Properly jerking himself off now, Harry tried to remember one of the things he overheard about Malfoy amid the haze of his arousal. Someone had said Malfoy smells citrusy. Sweet and fresh, they said. Harry absently wondered if it’s true since he couldn’t have known himself. Every time Malfoy’s scent reached his nose, his brain would immediately short circuit and he couldn’t think properly, let alone distinguish what the man smelled like.

All he knew was that Malfoy smelled fucking delicious and he wanted to devour the man. Or have Malfoy devour him. That definitely sounded better in Harry’s head. He stroked himself faster, stopping his effort to block certain grey eyes that popped up in his mind.

But, if Malfoy’s name escaped his mouth when he came, Harry wouldn’t admit it until the end of time.

 


 

Two weeks and countless unsatisfying wanks later, Harry decided to put an end to his confusing feelings and confront Malfoy. As he knocked on the door of Malfoy’s quarters, he belatedly reconsidered whether this was a good idea or not. The answer came in the form of a full-body shiver when Malfoy’s scent was carried through the door and teased Harry’s senses.

“Come in,” Malfoy’s voice called from the opposite side of the door.

Stepping into Malfoy’s quarters, Harry let his eyes wander around the room, distracting himself from the fact that the whole place smelled so much like Malfoy—this was his territory after all. He had expected a lot of green, maybe even some pictures of snakes on the wall, but Harry was surprised to find Malfoy’s room was mostly decorated in different shades of blue. And it was so much more homely than he expected. The mismatched pieces of furniture and the fire crackling in the hearth made the ambiance a lot warmer and welcoming than Harry had anticipated.

His idle observation was cut short by Malfoy standing up from the chair at his desk, clearing his throat.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” he said, stepping closer to Harry. His tone was so perfectly neutral that Harry almost missed the sarcasm in it.

Harry tried to keep a straight face, but it was so much harder than he thought with Malfoy’s enticing scent starting to addle his mind. The close proximity didn’t help either. Harry forced himself not to examine the man’s features as Malfoy stopped only a few feet from him. “You shouldn’t be here, Malfoy.”

Malfoy arched his brow in mild interest. “Here as in…?”

“Hogwarts.”

It didn’t faze Malfoy in the slightest. He seemed to be ready to argue with an uninvited guest in his room at any time of the day. “Well, the Headmistress would beg to differ. Would you like to see my teaching contract she signed?”

“You know what I mean,” Harry bit out, struggling to keep his head straight and ignoring how his body started to react to the scent.

“I truly don’t,” Malfoy replied in a dismissive tone. "And whatever you think about me, Potter, I got this job rightfully, no matter how hard it is for you to believe."

"I never say you didn't."

"Then what's your problem?"

You. You are my problem. You and your stupidly delicious smell, he wanted to say.

"You're an alpha,” Harry said instead.

"I'm not," answered Malfoy without missing a beat.

"Yes, you are. No point lying to me, Malfoy, I know."

"Oh, pray tell, then, Potter, how could you know what I am?" Malfoy said in a half-mocking manner that reminded Harry of how this git used to be in the past.

Because your smell drives me crazy. "You don't smell like a beta or an omega."

"My smell?" Malfoy’s eyes widened a fraction for a moment before he laughed. "Considering you're the first person who ever pointed that out to me, don't you think that maybe your sensory processing was mistaken?"

Harry looked up to meet his grey eyes, trying to appear defiant. "I know I'm right."

"Well, no one will believe you."

"I don't plan to tell anyone."

"Really?” This time Malfoy was actually sneering. “If not getting me fired with that accusation, what exactly do you want, Potter?"

I want you. Harry mentally shook himself and gulped.

“I just want to know the truth.”

“Oh? And what will you do with it?” Malfoy challenged him.

This time Harry didn’t know what to say, realizing he never thought about that. So what if Malfoy admitted he was an alpha? Harry was honest when he said he wouldn’t try to get Malfoy to lose his job, or even personally want him gone. It’s not like he could do that either. He knew McGonagall and was sure the Headmistress wouldn’t just hire anyone if she wasn’t certain they could do their job properly. And Malfoy had been a perfect Potions professor so far.

Harry should have thought this confrontation through and planned better.

Detecting Harry’s hesitation, Malfoy sighed and walked away, creating distance between them which Harry both regretted and was grateful for. With Malfoy across the room, at least he felt like he could control himself better.

“Look, Potter, we’ve done a really good job of… not bothering each other until now, haven’t we? Wouldn’t it be better if we can keep it that way? This is the first time we’re having a conversation since I arrived here and I believe we could agree that this hasn’t been going very smoothly. Maybe both of us would be better off if each other minds his own business, be the mature adults we are supposed to be and avoid arguments like this,” Malfoy said, voice uncharacteristically patient. Without waiting for Harry’s answer, Malfoy waved his wand and opened his door with a non-verbal spell, the least subtle gesture to say that Harry was no longer welcomed in his room. “Thank you for your lovely visit. Have a good night, Potter.”

Malfoy’s dismissive demeanor made something bubble inside Harry—whether it was anger or arousal, he couldn’t really tell at this point. Before he did something he would regret, Harry stomped out of the room, thinking about slamming the door behind him but decided against it in the end. If Malfoy wanted him to act mature, Harry would show him what mature looked like.

 


 

Harry had been feeling weird all day. Since the moment he got out of bed, he had been extremely restless, like something was off. His body was heavier than usual and he felt a bit feverish. Shrugging it off as the aftermath of staying up late for work the night before, Harry had started his day as usual. But, as the day progressed, the uncomfortable feeling just got worse.

The slight fever somehow rose when Malfoy was around, enough to make Harry feel lightheaded. Thankfully, he only encountered the Potions professor once today between classes. Both of them had been quite successful at pointedly ignoring each other lately, just like Malfoy asked him. Malfoy even seemed to take Harry’s tendency to be late at meal times into consideration and arrived as early as possible to the Great Hall, just so he could leave as soon as Harry showed up.

Tonight, though, the universe decided to be against Harry. When he sat at the teachers’ table for dinner, Harry was grateful to find the Great Hall was devoid of a certain alpha’s scent, thinking Malfoy must have left long before he was there—or maybe Malfoy decided to skip dinner entirely. But, as he piled some pasta onto his plate, Malfoy walked through the door, followed by a bunch of students from various years and all houses.

On other occasions, the scene could have been funny. His concern came true; Malfoy was harassed by his students. Not in a particularly inappropriate way, but whatever the students were telling Malfoy at the moment—Harry couldn’t hear it from this distance—obviously made him uncomfortable. Malfoy was frowning and his hands were twitching at his side as if he was about to take his wand and hex the teenagers who seemed still determined to pester him.

It could have been funny, if only Malfoy’s scent, suddenly flooding Harry’s senses, didn’t feel like a punch to Harry’s gut. He doubled over in pain, biting his lip to muffle a cry from the violent blow. In the next seconds, he felt the temperature of his body rise quickly.

On his side, Neville turned with a worried look. “Harry? Are you okay?”

Trying to lift his head, Harry shivered despite how hot he felt. “I’m okay, just…,” he gritted. For a moment, Harry thought the pain in his abdomen had slowly subsided, but to Harry’s horror, it only traveled south. When the painful pulse stopped at his crotch, a realization hit him.

He was in heat.

He shouldn’t have gotten his heat, at least not now. Harry’s body worked like a clock and it was not the time for his cycle to return. But the way his body heated up and his cock started aching, it couldn’t be anything else.

And right now, being in the same room as Malfoy, his arousal felt tenfold stronger than any heat he had had before. Harry inhaled deeply, trying to slow down his racing heart. It was a wrong move. Malfoy’s scent was engulfing him. He bit back a whimper.

“Harry?” Neville called again, worried.

“I think I’ll just—”

Harry looked up and caught Malfoy walking towards the table, the students trailing after him finally gone. The Potions professor cast a glance at Harry, head slightly tilted and brows furrowed in puzzlement. When Harry felt those grey eyes on him, another powerful wave of arousal hit him. Suddenly, it was getting hard to breathe.

“I don’t feel so good, Nev,” Harry said, struggling to keep his voice even. “I think I’ll just go back to my room.”

“Do you want me to walk you there?”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

The last thing Harry wanted at this moment was to have his friend witness him struggling over his very inappropriate boner in the middle of an ill-timed heat. It was never like this before. Yes, as an omega, Harry experienced a heat every now and then, but his past heats always passed without too much trouble. Normally, he would just feel a bit horny, and it would go away with a couple of wanks in the privacy of his room. Even when the heat came in the middle of the day, Harry could put the uncomfortable feelings aside to deal with it later at night.

But now, he felt like he was one breath away from stripping bare in the middle of the Great Hall and presenting himself to Malfoy. Or kneeling at his feet. Anything to make Malfoy take him and surround him with that delicious scent.

This was so bad. Harry hurriedly left the room.

Walking when your whole body felt like it was on fire wasn’t an easy task, but Harry tried to rush as fast as he could. Turned out, he still wasn’t fast enough. He was just two hallways away from his quarters when footsteps were heard from behind him.

“Potter.”

Harry turned to find Malfoy approaching, a worried expression on his face.

“Go away, Malfoy,” he tried to spit but it came out as a half whine instead. A blush spread on his face.

Malfoy stopped in his tracks, looking hesitant with a frown forming between his brows. “You look unwell, Potter. Like dreadfully unwell,” he said slowly. “Actually, you look like you’re about to faint.”

“I’m fine,” lied Harry, twisting his body to hide his obvious erection.

“Are you sure? I can help get you to Madam Pomfrey,” Malfoy offered, stepping closer.

“I said I’m—,” Harry's sentence was cut as a shudder ran through his body from his proximity with Malfoy, making him double over. He wanted to just curl up on the stone floor and die of embarrassment as his cock throbbed under his robe.

“You’re certainly not okay, Potter,” Malfoy said, this time walking resolutely up to Harry. He reached out his hand to help Harry stand straight, but the moment that pale fingers touched his arm, Harry jerked violently with a yelp. Malfoy’s eyes widened in alarm.

Harry wanted to tell Malfoy to fuck off again, but he couldn’t utter a word when he focused all his energy to restrain himself from begging the man in front of him to just take him right there and then. Malfoy, still clueless, just warily stared at him in concern and confusion.

“Are you hurt, Potter?” Malfoy tentatively asked.

“No, I’m just—”

“But you’re obviously in pain, what…,” Malfoy trailed off, giving Harry a careful once over, from the sweat on his temples to his shivering body. Harry watched as a realization slowly dawned upon him, his grey eyes widened impossibly. “Oh.”

The fact that the universe refused to kill him at that moment was just too cruel. “Yes,” Harry gritted out. “Oh. Now please leave me alone.”

But, while Harry’s mind was determined to escape from Malfoy as quickly as possible, his body wanted the opposite. When he turned around to walk away, a torturous sensation of unbidden arousal streamed through his veins, rooting him on the spot. His cock was so hard at this point it started to feel unbearable. Harry let out a pitiful whimper.

“Okay, Potter, calm down.” Malfoy raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture. “You’re in heat and you need help. I’ll take you to Madam Pomfrey,” he decided, his posture straightened and eyes steeled like he was ready to tackle a mission.

“No, no need to go to her. Just… just help me get to my room.”

“But…” Malfoy frowned, uncertain. “But it looks so… excruciating. I don’t know if a heat is supposed to be that painful.”

It’s not, this is all on you, Harry wanted to spit out.

“Just get me to my room, Malfoy,” Harry whined, beyond caring that he sounded so pathetic.

Malfoy gave him another skeptical look before relenting and taking the spot by Harry’s side. “Here, let me help you walk,” he said, circling his arm around Harry’s waist to support him.

The touch felt divine, Malfoy’s hand was cold compared to Harry’s burning body, even through the layers of his robe. Unable to help himself, Harry moaned as pleasure spread from that innocent contact. WIth Malfoy so close to him, he could barely register the mortification and embarrassment in his mind amid all the haze of overwhelming arousal.

Malfoy, the unlikely gentleman he turned out to be, pretended not to hear the moan and kept an impassive face as he let Harry lean into him. He even didn’t comment on the way Harry practically writhed against him as he silently struggled to drag Harry back to his room.

With Malfoy’s help, Harry managed to walk the rest of the way to his quarters. But, when they finally reached it, Harry was too far gone to remember why he needed to be there in the first place.

Malfoy guided him all the way to his bed and gently helped him lie on it. “Okay,” he said quietly, voice so close to Harry’s ear as he bent down over him. “Now I’ll leave you to…” He tried to free the hand still gripping his robe, but Harry wouldn’t let go. “Potter.”

His name shouldn’t sound so good on Malfoy’s tongue. And Malfoy’s scent. Oh, that scent. “Malfoy,” Harry moaned, pulling Malfoy closer to him, wanting to breathe him in.

“Potter, you need to let me go.”

Harry couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less at that moment. “Malfoy… it’s so hot,” he whined, hands tugging at his own robe to take it off.

“Of course it’s hot, you’re in heat, Potter,” Malfoy said evenly, his tone as controlled as ever. “Let me go and I’ll get you some water.”

Hearing the word go coming from Malfoy’s mouth made Harry clutch him tighter. There was no way Harry was letting this scent go anywhere. “No need. Don’t need water.” Need you.

Malfoy tried to pull away again, but Harry wouldn’t ease up his grip. He sighed. “Let me go, Potter. You’re not thinking straight.”

In the middle of the constant bouts of arousal going through his burning body, Harry couldn’t think of anything but the fact that Malfoy was right there with him, but they were both still fully clothed. Why wasn’t Malfoy fucking him yet? Harry was an omega in heat and Malfoy was an alpha. And Harry was pretty much presenting himself to Malfoy. Wouldn’t Malfoy want him as much as Harry wanted him right now? Harry couldn’t concentrate long enough to answer that, but he didn’t care. All he knew was that he needed to change that now.

“It hurts… Malfoy, please,” Harry didn’t waste his time to beg. “Malfoy.”

Next to his ear, Harry heard Malfoy grit his teeth, but when he spoke again, his voice remained even. “No, Potter, let me go.”

Harry was ready to cry if he had to. In fact, Harry would burst into tears if Malfoy kept refusing to touch him. His cock was so hard and he felt it leaking underneath his robe. He tried to move, twisting his body toward Malfoy, to get friction from rutting his thigh, positioned next to his own, but it was not enough. “Please, please, please. It hurts so bad, Malfoy… please fuck me.”

Malfoy’s body, still half-pressed to Harry’s side, went stiff. Harry didn’t know if it was a good or bad sign, but it was a reaction nonetheless. Maybe pleading could work.

“Please, Malfoy, fuck me. Want you. Need you.” Harry knew he sounded delirious, but he couldn’t care less. Inhaling Malfoy’s scent but not having those fingers touching him was torture. “It hurts. Make it stop, Malfoy. Please, touch me. Fuck me.”

No reaction was heard for a few moments until Harry felt a huff of breath on the side of his face as Malfoy sighed in defeat, his body relaxing a bit in Harry’s clutch. “Alright, Potter, I’ll help you, but you need to let me go.”

“No, you’ll leave—”

“I won’t, I promise. Let me go and I’ll help you.”

Reluctantly, Harry loosened his grip on Malfoy and the man swiftly moved back to properly sit on Harry’s bed; true to his words, he didn’t leave.

“Malfoy…”

“Shhh, I got you,” Malfoy said calmly. His nimble fingers started unbuttoning Harry’s robe, effectively undressing him. Within seconds, Harry’s body was bare, skin all flushed, and cock achingly hard. The cold air of his bedroom, a contrast to the flame he felt under his skin, made Harry shiver uncontrollably.

The moment Malfoy’s cold hand touched his throbbing cock, Harry was barely aware of his loud wailing. Everything felt like too much but not enough at the same time. Malfoy’s touch was amazing, the efficiency of every fast stroke helped the pleasure to mount in Harry’s belly. But it wasn’t what Harry needed.

“Malfoy… fuck me,” he pleaded, his hand gripping Malfoy’s wrist, stopping it from the unforgiving movements on his cock.

“No,” Malfoy replied without missing a beat, his tone dripping with finality. He pushed Harry’s hand and continued to stroke his cock.

The pleasure built up, mounting and mounting, but it never reached the peak. Harry moaned in frustration, his body aflame. “I can’t… Malfoy, I need you to fuck me.”

Malfoy’s eyes flashed with something unreadable, something dangerous and feral, but it was gone the next second. He gulped visibly and stared at Harry, writhing under him without abandon. In the end, he sighed again. “Where do you keep your lube?”

The question almost made Harry weep in relief. Finally, Malfoy would fuck him. “Don’t need lube, I’m ready. Just… quickly, Malfoy.”

Malfoy frowned uncertainly. Letting his hand trail down, his breath hitched in surprise. “Salazar. Potter, you’re dripping.”

Moaning louder, Harry pushed his hips to meet Malfoy’s teasing fingers. When the first digit penetrated his entrance without any resistance, Harry desperately clenched his ass. He was hungry for more and Malfoy just wasn’t fast enough.

More,” Harry demanded.

Thankfully, Malfoy obliged, adding his second and then third finger. Without words, he fucked Harry open with his fingers, stretching, and prodding. Like the fingers on Harry’s cock, the ones in his ass were just as efficient, every thrust brought a wave of pleasure rippling all over his body. Harry shivered in pleasure.

“Enough, I’m ready—Malfoy, just fuck me,” Harry moaned.

“No.”

“Malfoy, I—”

“I’m not fucking you tonight, Potter. Not like this. Not when you can’t tell what you truly want,” Malfoy stated, his tone left no room for argument.

Harry sobbed, he was so hard and his body was getting tired. He was almost there, the climax was right in front of him, but it was somehow still out of reach. “I can’t,” he cried, desperate for the release. “Please, so close.”

Suddenly, Malfoy leaned his body over Harry, his pale neck barely an inch from Harry’s nose. A silent invitation to breathe in his scent.

Of course, Malfoy knew what he needed.

Greedily, Harry closed his eyes and inhaled Malfoy’s alluring scent, letting himself drown in the sensation of being dominated by the alpha’s scent colliding with the pleasure he felt on his cock and in his ass.

“That’s it, Harry. You’re almost there. Come for me,” Malfoy whispered, his tone low.

Harry didn’t know if it was Malfoy’s deep voice right next to his ear calling his name, his scent engulfing him, or his fingers on and in him, but he could do nothing but obey the command. With a shout, Harry came, his back arching and his whole body shuddering. The last thing he remembered was whimpering his final broken sob before everything turned black.

 


 

Despite the half-delirious state he was in, Harry remembered that night perfectly.

He remembered the way Malfoy's scent drove him crazy, the way every touch felt like both burning fire and soothing ice, the way his heat in the presence of Malfoy ignited a flame in Harry like it never did before.

And, of course, he remembered how gentle Malfoy was, how calm and collected the alpha was as he helped Harry go through his unusually painful heat. But most importantly, Harry remembered Malfoy's words.

I’m not fucking you tonight, Potter. Not like this. Not when you can’t tell what you truly want.

Tonight, Malfoy had said. It implied that he would fuck him on other nights when Harry could give proper consent and tell him what he wanted.

Now, with his head clear, Harry knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted Malfoy, and not just because of his intoxicating scent or beautiful looks, but because of the way Malfoy treated him when Harry was in his most vulnerable situation.

Malfoy went after him in concern when he thought Harry needed help, didn't hesitate to offer Harry a hand despite how uncomfortable it must have been for him, and he tried so hard to make sure he didn't take advantage of Harry while he couldn't think straight. The alpha could have just taken him, and with how much Harry had shamelessly begged him, Harry wouldn't even hold it against him; but he hadn’t. Malfoy didn't go beyond helping Harry relieve his need. Malfoy, an alpha with the most divine scent Harry had ever smelled, refused to take an omega in heat, practically offered in front of him. Harry knew no suppressant could give any alpha that much self-restraint.

That just made Harry want him more than ever. After that night, Harry finally accepted the sexual attraction he had for Malfoy. It was so much easier to admit your desire when you knew it wasn’t directed toward a bad person. Malfoy had turned to be a different man than the snobby teenager he was and Harry wanted to know him better.

If only Malfoy would let him. The Potions professor hadn’t been avoiding him once again, this time even more relentlessly, making sure he wouldn’t cross paths with Harry despite how much Harry tried to corner him.

Harry didn’t know how Malfoy did it, but it had almost been a week since his heat and Harry hadn’t seen Malfoy long enough to even call his name. Every time he saw a glimpse of platinum blond hair, the man would suddenly disappear the next second. It was getting frustrating.

That was why Harry found himself once again standing in front of Malfoy's room in the middle of the night, ready for a sudden ambush. And ambushing he did, forgoing knocking the door before letting himself in, only to find Malfoy sitting calmly on one of his armchairs. He looked up from the book on his lap, barely flinching from the way Harry barged into his room uninvited.

“When McGonagall told me the lock to the teachers’ quarters only works to keep students away, I knew it was the most stupid idea ever,” Malfoy said flatly. “But I gave her the benefit of doubt. Surely everyone who works in Hogwarts understands the concept of privacy and knows how to knock, I thought naively back then. Thank you for proving me wrong.”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Harry retorted, silently relishing how the entire room was filled with the scent he had come to miss these past few days. “We need to talk.”

Malfoy sighed and put his book aside. “No, we don’t.”

“We do. You can’t keep avoiding me forever.”

“I’d like to try.”

“I’m here now and we’re talking. You failed, Malfoy.”

Narrowing his eyes, Malfoy paused for a moment before slumping in his chair with another sigh. “What do you want from me now, Potter?”

“About that night—”

“You can’t blame me for that,” Malfoy cut him off, suddenly standing up and crossing his arms defensively. “You wouldn’t let me go. Did you expect me to push you away when you’re in that much pain?”

Harry had to stop and stare into the grey eyes uncomprehendingly for a few seconds before the words registered in his mind. “What—no, Malfoy, I’m not here to blame you for anything. Why are you thinking I was?”

It was Malfoy’s turn to look confused. Slowly, he uncrossed his arms and frowned. “Well, I touched you that night.”

“I begged you to,” Harry admitted, feeling his cheeks heating up from the memories.

“You didn’t know what you asked, Potter, you were delirious,” Malfoy scoffed, looking away. “I should have brought you to Madam Pomfrey.”

Harry shook his head. “No, I don’t blame you for that. In fact, I need to thank you for helping me that night. It was… it was very kind of you.”

Slowly, Malfoy turned to him, but his expression remained skeptical. “So, you’re here to thank me for that?” he asked, still frowning.

“Well, yeah… I mean, no. I want to thank you, yes, but it’s not why I’m here.” Harry gulped when he saw Malfoy raise his brow in question. “I’m here to take you up on your offer.”

“What offer?”

Taking a deep inhale, Harry let Malfoy’s scent encourage him and guide his next words. “That night, you said you wouldn’t fuck me since I couldn’t tell you want I truly wanted. I can now.”

Suddenly, the air around them shifted. Malfoy’s eyes hardened and Harry could feel his scent had changed, smelling like danger, as if Malfoy tried to warn him away. “What do you mean by that?” he asked quietly.

“I can tell you what I want now,” Harry said, willing his voice to stay even despite his racing heart. He met Malfoy’s eyes with as much confidence as he could muster. “I want you.”

Malfoy breathed out slowly as his expression stiffened. For a second, Harry thought Malfoy was about to jump forward and punch him. But Malfoy didn’t move. “If this is just a scheme to expose me as an alpha, let me tell you McGonagall knows about it. You can’t get me kicked out with that information.”

The words stunned Harry. Did Malfoy still think Harry was trying to get him to lose his job? “I don’t need to have sex with you to know you’re an alpha, Malfoy,” Harry snapped, anger rising in him. “I told you before, I know. This has nothing to do with that.”

The man still looked unconvinced, but he started to let go of that threatening demeanor. “This has nothing to do with that,” Malfoy repeated slowly. “You’re telling me… you just want me?”

“Yes. What do you want me to do to show that I’m being honest here?” Harry asked, feeling a desperate edge seeping into his voice. Why did Malfoy insist on being impossible? “I don’t even know how I could expose you by luring you into having sex with me.”

Malfoy regarded him in silence, his gaze calculating. After a long, torturous moment, he stepped closer. “Have you ever had sex with an alpha, Potter?”

The question was so unexpected it took him off guard. “Wh—what?” he stammered.

“I take it as no,” Malfoy said calmly, taking yet another step towards Harry. “But surely you know how sex with an alpha works, don’t you?”

The grey eyes stared at him so intensely that Harry had to consciously refrain himself from fidgeting. “Of course I do.”

Malfoy tilted his head, looking almost amused. “Then you should know that you can confirm I am an alpha when I knot you.”

If Harry had to be honest, that part completely slipped his mind. But now, having Malfoy said that while being surrounded by his scent, Harry felt his head spinning from the thought of it. Malfoy. Knot. In him.

It took him too long to understand the sentence in its entirety.

When I knot you.

The air shifted again. Harry could still sense the danger in it, but there was something else now. Something sweet and inviting. Like a seductive lure. Harry’s mouth watered as his body gradually worked its reaction down south. His breathing quickened from the expectation. Malfoy would knot him.

“Please,” Harry said, because what else could his brain come up with at a time like this?

Malfoy licked his lower lip. “I need you to be sure, Potter. Do you truly want this? You know you don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to do this.”

If Harry’s cock wasn’t hardening embarrassingly quick beneath his robe at the moment, Harry would have hexed the blond git. “I swear to Merlin, Malfoy, if you don’t take me to your bed this very second, I’ll find a way to get you kicked out of here for real.”

Unexpectedly, Malfoy let out a loud laugh, his head was thrown back in mirth. Harry didn’t think he had ever heard him laugh like that before—a real laugh, not a sneer. He would have appreciated it better if only he didn’t have a more pressing matter at hand.

“Malfoy—”

“What’s the rush, Potter?” Malfoy asked, eyes twinkling in amusement. Nevertheless, he took the final step to be right in front of Harry, and without any more words, Malfoy kissed him.

Malfoy started slow, teasing Harry’s lips with his own, but Harry didn’t have the patience for soft foreplay at the moment. He had waited long enough for that. Knowing exactly what he wanted, Harry cradled Malfoy’s head in his hands and deepened the kiss, all while pushing the man back towards his bedroom.

He felt Malfoy laugh breathlessly against his lips, but Harry didn’t care. He wanted Malfoy and he wanted him now. Without breaking his kiss, Harry maneuvered Malfoy to where he assumed Malfoy’s bedroom was. He was satisfied to find a huge bed from the corner of his vision after hastily opening the door. Not wanting to waste any more time, Harry was all but throwing Malfoy onto the bed.

The rough treatment didn’t faze Malfoy. If anything, he looked even more amused—which offended Harry a little, making him wonder if Malfoy felt even half as aroused as him at the moment. “I’m supposed to be the aggressive one here,” Malfoy commented, all too casually.

Harry looked down at Malfoy, unable to keep himself from scowling. “You’re a bad alpha.”

The mirth in those grey eyes intensified for a second before a new glint flashed in them. With unexpected strength, Malfoy quickly flipped their positions, pinning Harry down under his weight. “I’d like to see if your opinion will change in a few minutes.”

The confident tone made Harry’s cock throb in anticipation. “And you’re all talk, Malfoy,” he said breathlessly.

Malfoy gave himself a moment for another laugh before working his fingers to undress Harry, the joyful grin on his face slowly turned into a predatory smirk. By the time the last piece of clothing was thrown across the room, leaving the two of them stark naked, Malfoy’s eyes were dark with lust. For a fleeting second, Harry wondered if he really should fear the man on top of him.

“I wonder if you’re as wet now as when you’re in heat,” Malfoy said, voice deeper than usual.

Harry responded by clenching his ass on nothing, and yes, he was just as slick—if not more than before. “Malfoy,” he whined.

“Patience, Potter,” Malfoy hummed. Gently, he prodded Harry’s entrance with a finger. His brows raised when it slipped easily. “Were you also this loose before?”

“I prepared myself before, okay? Now get on to it,” Harry huffed, too aroused to even feel embarrassed for admitting that he planned exactly this all along.

Malfoy obliged by adding two more fingers at once, stretching him open. Harry’s breath hitched when he felt the fourth finger teasing his rim. He looked at Malfoy wide-eyed.

“You’ll need this, trust me,” Malfoy said. “It’s okay if you change your mind now.”

Harry glanced at Malfoy’s cock. In its fully erect state, his cock was thick and glorious, curving proudly from his body. He imagined it in his ass, stuffing him full. Then he imagined how it would expand in him, stretching him wider than ever. A violent wave of arousal shivered through him, punching a needy whimper out of him.

“Verbal consent, Potter. Do you want me to continue—”

“Yes, yes. Go on. Don’t make me beg.”

The fourth finger slowly made its way inside him. Harry gasped with how full he felt.

“Actually, I rather like how you begged last time,” Malfoy stated calmly, fingers not stopping their slow thrust.

“Fuck. I’m ready now.” Harry paused to moan. “Please.”

Malfoy smirked. “Turn around then.”

Hastily, Harry rolled onto his stomach, hands automatically gripping Malfoy’s duvet in anticipation. He sucked in a deep breath and willed himself to relax when he felt the nudge of Malfoy’s cock against his entrance. Slowly, with the gentleness that Harry never expected from an alpha, Malfoy breached him and pushed in.

The shiver that rippled through his body was like nothing he experienced before. When Malfoy finally had his balls against his ass, Harry found himself a quivering mess under the alpha.

“You’re so hot, Potter. So good,” Malfoy groaned next to his ear, making him moan in reply.

Malfoy moved his hips experimentally, starting with slow, shallow thrusts. As soon as he was sure Harry could take more—wanted more—he quickened his pace, fucking him in fast and steady strokes. Soon, Harry found himself desperately trying to push back to meet every thrust and have it deeper.

Harry felt Malfoy’s long hair caressing his skin as the man leaned against his back, his breaths tickling him in short huffs of hot air. “You smell so good, Potter, do you know that?”

“What?”

“You smell so amazing that I almost want to act like an alpha for once,” Malfoy said with a breathless laugh, hips never slowing down. “If only you knew what it took to keep myself from devouring you that night. You, an omega in heat, begging me to fuck you while smelling like the most forbidden temptation. I was sure you were sent from hell just to test me.”

A moan escaped him as Malfoy’s cock pushed deeper, making it harder to let his words sink in. “I didn’t know you… you can… you find my scent different, too,” Harry gasped.

“How do you think I managed to avoid you for so long? I think your scent might be even stronger to me than mine to you,” Malfoy said. “I can smell you from the other side of this castle, it’s too easy to keep a distance.”

“You really talk a lot.”

Malfoy laughed lowly, but his voice was strained. “Maybe I’m distracting myself from finishing this too fast,” he said. “Are you close?”

Harry didn’t want this to end, but he felt himself barrelling toward his climax. Malfoy’s thrusts were relentless, pounding into him and hitting the right place every time. And the fact that Malfoy was there against his back, his scent blanketing him, was enough to heighten all pleasure he received. “Close.”

“Good,” Malfoy panted, a smirk was heard in his voice.

For a second, Harry wasn’t sure what it was all about until he felt the cock in him pulse. Gasping for breath, Harry clenched his ass, squeezing Malfoy’s growing length. Behind him, Malfoy groaned from the pressure.

“Relax,” Malfoy growled, thrusting impossibly faster. “You have to let me in.”

It was an impossible task. How could Harry relax when his whole body was aflame, wired from the tip of his toes to the last strand of his hair? But Malfoy hadn’t stopped growing as he continued to fuck into Harry. If Harry didn’t unwind the tension in his body, soon Malfoy would be too big to penetrate him. Exhaling slowly through his nose, Harry tried to loosen up.

“Perfect… you’re so perfect, Harry.”

With a sharp cry, Malfoy made his final thrust, pushing his swollen cock deep inside him. And, Merlin, he was enormous, the already thick cock expanded around the base, catching on Harry’s rim and locked them together. Malfoy’s hips kept twitching as he came, the sound he made could only be described as a feral growl. It took Harry a few delayed seconds to distinguish the intense pleasure rippling through his body among other overwhelming sensations. When Malfoy moaned his name as his cock pulsed inside him, Harry was finally tipped over the edge.

The orgasm was so powerful even when the only friction Harry had on his cock was from the soft duvet under him. Malfoy’s body fit perfectly above him, his weight a perfect pressure, and his hips that didn’t stop twitching throughout Harry’s climax were more than enough to keep the constant pleasure he felt, making his vision blurry for a few moments.

By the time his senses fully returned to him, Harry felt Malfoy still on top of him.

“As you can probably tell,” Malfoy said, his tone conversational despite the rough edge in his voice after the intense sex. “I can’t pull out yet. It might get a bit uncomfortable after a while, I hope you don’t mind.”

Harry found it in himself to laugh incredulously. Trust Malfoy to turn all polite and businesslike after giving him the most mind-blowing fuck he ever had. “What shall we do to pass time then?”

Malfoy chuckled and shifted to position himself to lie on his side, dragging Harry with him as they were still connected. After a bit of rustling to get comfortable, Malfoy sighed in contentment and draped his arm around Harry’s torso. “What do you want to do?”

Humming in thought, Harry leaned back against the broad chest behind him. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“I’m not telling you the details of that seventh year’s love letter.”

“What? You got a love letter from a seventh year?” Harry asked, head twisting to look over his shoulder. “You really are dangerous to be around those minors. What a big bad alpha.”

“Very funny, Potter,” Malfoy deadpanned.

Harry shook his head. “No seriously, I want to know how you do it. All this self-control, I mean. You don’t act like an alpha, you’re supposed to be a threat to those kids, not the other way around.”

Malfoy made a thoughtful noise. “It’s in my blood, I guess. Probably just a genetic thing.”

“Wait, Lucius is an alpha?”

“Salazar, no. He is a beta, but Mother is,” Malfoy said. “Everyone thinks she’s a beta with how calm and in control she is all the time, but she’s one of the most fierce alphas I ever know. Maybe I just got it from her.”

Harry took his time processing the information. “I didn’t know you can pass that kind of trait through generations. If you have an alpha child in the future, will they be like that too?”

“I never expected you to be the kind of person who discusses their future kids after the first time they have sex with someone. We haven’t even gone for a proper date yet,” Malfoy teased, snickering quietly.

“Shut up,” Harry muttered, feeling his cheeks heat up. Since he was in this far, might as well go all the way. “So, are you planning to take me out on a date or what?”

Malfoy hummed and snuggled closer to his back. “What about you taking me out on a date? It seems like the traditional roles don’t really apply to us.”

If he had to be honest, Harry rather liked how that idea sounded. He smiled to himself. “It can be arranged then.”