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author
Hello guys let me tell you..... I know it's weird but.... it's my follower request. she wants I write her favorite Harry Potter ×Draco pair.... so please don't hate this story.....
author
I write this story only for my follower disha.
The scent blockers were wearing off.
Harry gripped the edge of the sink, his knuckles white, eyes closed against the mirror in the Ministry washroom. Sweat clung to his brow. The magic suppressants were no longer strong enough. His heat was coming early—and he couldn’t risk anyone finding out.
But none of it was working.
His body had stopped listening to potions and charms. The heat was coming, and it was coming fast.
He splashed cold water on his face, heart pounding. It was late, the Ministry nearly deserted, but his scent—masked, muted, now leaking through the barriers—would still draw attention. If someone realized what he was—what he’d been hiding—everything he fought for would unravel.
War hero. The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One.
He was none of those things right now. He was an omega on the edge of a biological collapse.
Harry staggered out of the bathroom and Apparated straight home.
Grimmauld Place was quiet. Safe. Empty.
But it didn’t help.
His bed was too soft. His clothes itched. His magic felt stretched, thinned out by the pressure building in his bones. He paced. Panted. Tried to meditate, to brew a backup suppressant, to eat something—nothing worked.
And the ache inside him sharpened. It wasn’t just physical need. It was instinct, raw and clawing. His body screamed for contact. For scent. For an alpha.
Harry swore under his breath, yanked open the closet, and dug through a box he hadn’t touched since the war
At the bottom was a velvet mask.
And an old address.
The club was hidden under layers of charms, only accessible to those who knew its name: Vesper. It catered to discretion. Omegas in heat. Alphas seeking. Betas on the hunt. Masked identities. Magic-proof wards. No questions asked.
Harry had only ever been once, years ago, when Hermione insisted he learn about safe spaces for omegas. He’d promised himself he’d never use it.
But he was out of options.
The bouncer scanned him with disinterest, handed him a fresh glamoured mask, and nodded him inside.
The scent hit him immediately. Pheromones, sex, desire. The music was low, rhythmic, a pulse of bass beneath his feet. Candles floated above velvet-lined booths, casting shadows over bodies pressed together.
He kept to the edge. Eyes on the floor. Heart hammering.
Sharp. Clean. Like cold wind through cedar trees.
Tall. Masked. Blond hair just visible beneath silver charmwork. Broad shoulders in a sleek black robe. The way he moved was arrogant, effortless. Dangerous.
Their eyes met across the floor.
The alpha tilted his head slightly, then started walking toward him.
“First time?” the alpha murmured, stopping just a step too close.
Harry nodded, not trusting his voice.
The alpha’s nostrils flared. He leaned in.
Harry flushed, and the alpha smiled. Slow. Knowing.
"I won’t ask,” the alpha said. “But if you stay… you’re going to need me.”
harry Potter / omega
"I don’t—” Harry started.
The alpha caught his wrist. Not hard. Just… anchoring.
"I can help,” he said softly.
And for some reason, Harry believed him.
They didn’t speak much after that.
The alpha led him to a private booth. Cast the silence charms. Spelled the door.
Harry stood awkwardly in the center of the room, arms crossed over his chest, trembling slightly.
The alpha stepped close, scent calm but strong. “Do you want me to stop?”
harry Potter / omega
"No,” Harry whispered. “Don’t stop.”
The alpha moved like magic. Slow. Sure. He tugged Harry’s robes open, kissed the corner of his mouth, hands gentle despite the heat that radiated from him.
When their mouths met, Harry nearly cried.
It had been so long since he felt wanted. Desired. Safe.
The alpha was surprisingly tender—touching him carefully, kissing down his throat, scenting him without marking. Magic flared when their bodies met, and Harry gasped as it filled the room, electric and warm.
And when the alpha finally slid inside him, it wasn’t just hunger—it was relief. Connection. Heat met heat, and Harry clung to the alpha’s shoulders, mouth open in a silent plea.
“I’ve got you,” the alpha murmured. “You’re safe.”
He came undone in his arms.
When he woke the next morning, the room was cold
Harry sat up slowly. His body ached. The sheets smelled like sex, heat, and… him. The scent that had driven him wild last night now lingered like a secret.
He reached for the mask left on the table.
harry Potter / omega
“No,” he whispered, throat dry.
harry Potter / omega
“No, no, no—”
He buried his face in his hands.
Because that scent? That arrogance? That quiet, infuriating tenderness?
author
..
ohhh God I can't believe I write this fictional story.. I hope she likes this story
Comments
Anne
i doo
2025-06-12
0
Anne
thankyou
2025-06-12
0