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Draco Turris Regiae: the courting of the dragon

Summary:

Harry Potter hears about a princess who was locked up inside a tower and, being this Kingdom's most known (not really) hero, he decides to save her.

He saves a dragon instead.

Notes:

yeah, dragon draco but he barely stays in dragon form here. im so sorry for the dragonfuckers who found this fic, im one of you but this time is just not like that.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

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After saving his village from a dark wizard, Harry Potter’s life fell victim to the ordinary.

Sure, he was awarded a house near the capital and went from being an unknown orphan to a somewhat recognizable orphan. The town’s baker was still more popular and adored than their brave hero who held his sword high against all evil but, well, at least he got a medal for his efforts. And a house. And free bread twice a month.

What troubled him the most, however, was not the weight of ungratefulness of the Kingdom he almost died to save, but a terrible, astonishing and agonizing feeling often known as boredom .

The friends he made through his journey were all busy with their own after-stories. Hermione, the wise witch, married their group’s cook, Ronald, and were now travelling around the Kingdom for her research on magical plants that can (and cannot) be eaten. Ron’s sister, Ginevra, known for her navigation skills, apparently fell in love with a siren and was now exploring the seven seas by her side. As for their healer, Neville,  Harry heard he was cursed into becoming a frog and was jumping around the continent looking for a true love’s kiss so he can return to his original human form.

As for Harry, he was left alone with an empty house, an aluminum medal, and a lifetime of free-bread coupons.

That's why, when rumours reached his ear that a beautiful princess was trapped inside a tower in the nearby forest, Harry was the first one to prepare a sword for her rescue. Like a prince, he galloped into the woods, planning to defeat any monster, step-mother or wicked overlord that dared trap the princess — and perhaps Harry’s future wife — in that scary and cold tower.

Which did not end up being that cold or scary in the end. Climbing up the stairs, Harry felt it was pretty cozy and properly decorated. There was even a delightful scent of boiled vegetables coming from some floor, one that Harry refused to let it distract him. Of course, even the most evil of the villains knew how to make soup, that wasn't an indication of anything in particular.

Then, at the top of that tower, a beast was found. 

Deep in its slumber, the creature occupied the whole floor, tail slowly swinging from side to side as if to follow the rhythm of his dreams, his white scales that gathered sunlight and reflected rainbows were covered by a pair of wings bigger than its body. Lifting his arm for comparison, just one eye of the creature was already bigger than his two palms combined.

This rare and magnificent creature, also known as a dragon, was the culprit for the princess’ disappearance and Harry could not be fooled by its breathtaking appearance. Raising his sword, Harry screamed his war cry, ready to take the dragon down.

The dragon, however, screamed back. Suddenly waking up with his yells, the dragon’s eyes widened before it disappeared in a cloud of smoke. And, from the cloud, the dragon was no more.

In its place, the beautiful princess appeared. Lean, pale body being showered with the sun rays that entered through the single window, matching the gold waves of hair, so long that the tips gathered around her hips as she sat down on the floor and looked up at Harry, with grey eyes widened in fear at the sword pointed towards her chest. A naked chest that seemed rather flat, though Harry was not the type to superficially offend a woman that way.

Trying to make sense of what happened, Harry asks: “Princess, were you eaten by the dragon and I freed you from its stomach?”

“What? No? Gross.”

“Then, Princess, were you cursed by a wizard to be a dragon when the sun is out and are only able to step out in your true form when dusk arrives?”

“The sun is still out!” She yells. “And what do you mean by a curse? Being a dragon should be something to take pride for, not a curse!”

“I’m here to save the princess,” Harry decides to explain it from the beginning, deliberately slow, seeing there was clearly something wrong here, “isn't her you?”

And, now, Harry thinks that perhaps her voice is too low for a woman as her next words fall flat, lacking that high pitch born out of fear from before. “There's no princess here. Just a dragon.”

Harry blinks. Repeats it. “Just a dragon.” 

He looks down. Well. Not a princess, that was for certain. The blonde quickly covers his intimacy with the satin curtains, doing a poor job of hiding himself. 

“And who are you that breaks into my abode?” The dragon asks, adding later with worry: “I’ve properly paid all fees to live here.”

It made Harry sad to know that even dragons pay taxes. Besides, did he even look like a proper knight? Well, better than being mistaken as a bandit, he thinks, then introduces himself properly:

“I’m Harry Potter, the one who defeated the dark wizard that plagued this Kingdom.”

“Oh,” Draco blinks, “really?”

“Why would I lie?”

“I’m not doubting you. I just thought you’d be…” he hesitates. “Taller? And maybe have a beard? Your portrait is quite… different .”

His height was perfectly normal, thank you very much. In fact, he thinks he might even be taller than this dragon’s human form, and he could grow a perfectly respectable beard if he wished to. Yet, he could not blame the dragon for his thoughts, as the painter who made his portrait took some artists liberties that Harry did not previously agreed with. So all Harry does is raise his eyebrow, “And your name is?”

“Draco.”

Draco, the dragon. Harry frowns, “That’s very creative.”

“It’s a family tradition.”

What was his father's name, then? Lacertus? Ovum? It was better not to pry much into it unless he wished to be burnt. “Sure.”

They spend a moment in awkward silence. There’s few words that’d be proper for a scene like this, where you mistakenly break into a (very naked) dragon’s lair and now have to think what to do with the rest of your day since your previous plans are now ruined. Harry is trying to think how to excuse himself out when Draco, the dragon, speaks:

“So, where’s my gold?”

“What gold?”

“You decided to meet a dragon without bringing it gold?”

“That's because I thought I’d be meeting a princess.”

“A princess and you didn't bring a single gift?” Draco’s tone was very judgmental. “That's quite uneducated.”

A silence reaches the room once more, with the two staring at each other until Draco’s expression starts to shift and Harry feels the urge to defend himself:

“I’m not broke.”

“Please take your leave.”

“Seriously, I’m not poor. I came barehanded because I thought saving the princess from the tower would be enough of a present.”

“What saving? I — and any princess that happens to be visiting, mind you — can perfectly descend the stairs and leave from the front door. I don't even have a lock, didn't you notice?”

Well, it was true that the door was left opened when Harry snuck inside. “The townsfolk were gossiping about a princess that was being held captive by an evil creature.”

Sighing, Draco waves as if that is old news, “Father must’ve made those rumours up so that I’ll return back home. He’s not taking my independence well, you see.”

Truthfully, Harry could not, in fact, see it. Firstly, to think that a rare magical creature with enough power to vaporize an ocean would have such mundane troubles was too much for him to understand. Secondly, said creature having daddy issues while he, as a human and orphan, could barely empathize with was embarrassing enough.

Yeah, the whole situation was embarrassing, not only his inability to console the runaway dragon with family issues.

Sword feeling heavier than ever on his hands, Harry awkwardly caressed his nape. “Er, I think I should go now. Sorry for, um… Trying to kill you in your sleep.”

“Yes. Please do leave.”

Leaving, Harry can only hope the dragon does not bring this occasion up to the knights or the equivalent to whoever maintained the order between dragons. Maybe he’d explain the situation to the folks in town, or at least learn from his mistakes and bring a gift next time he tries to rescue someone — be it a princess or a dragon.

 

 

Though optimistic to leave that story in the past, Draco can't say he's surprised when, two days after, he wakes up to the brunette hero next to his bed.

Maybe he should get a lock for that door.

“Er,” Harry starts, eloquently, yet less nervous now that he is breaking into the house of a naked person, considering Draco is in his pajamas this time around, “I was picking mushrooms in the forest.”

“I see”, Draco answered calmly, though he couldn't, in fact, see what that had to do with him. It was not like he owned the forest (yet), so every man was free to pick whichever mushroom that met their likings. “And?”

“Um. Then I saw this group of men marching up this way and talking about defeating the dragon and saving the princess, something like that.”

“I’ve heard a few of these stories, yes. It shouldn't be a problem, however, since the last group of men ran away the moment they saw me breathing fire through the window.”

It was more like he sneezed fire through the window, accidentally. He's been feeling a bit under the weather lately.

“In any case, thank you. You are here to warn me about them, right? A letter will suffice next time.”

“So, er, about that.”

Draco's face darkens, “Where are they? You didn't get blood on my carpet, I hope.”

“Oh, no blood this time. They are just passed in the stairway.”

“That's nice,” Draco blankly looks towards the stairs and then back at the hero, thinking if it would be easier to shove the bodies downstairs or launch them through the window, “you didn't have to.”

“Don't worry about that. It's the least I could do, considering how impolite I was last time.”

It was also impolite to break into someone's home, defeat their invaders and awkwardly stay near the owner’s bed even after he wakes up, but Draco is not sure what he himself would do in that situation. Was he trying to stay for tea? Well, Draco had no tea at home. He was a dragon, afterall, and dragons were not known for having tea in their cabinets.

If he wanted some, he’d have to burn a nearby village to steal their tea leaves. And if he was feeling particularly nice, then he'd go to a local market to buy it.

Still, he might have no tea, but it would be terribly uncouth to send the hero home after he came all this way for a visit. He was a dragon, not a beast lacking manners.

He looks down at what Harry is holding, a picnic basket. Oh, he mentioned something about that, right? 

“Are the mushrooms still inside?”

“Er, yes?”

“I can make soup.”

“You mean, like, for the both of us?”

“You may watch me eat if that's your thing.”

“No, um, I’d like some.”

It was nice of Harry to defeat the men who broke in. It was even nicer of Harry to take their bodies outside while Draco prepared their late lunch, and even nicerer of Harry to settle the table and even clean the dishes.

They had a lovely afternoon and, well, it's not gold, but at least Draco got a meal.

 

 

A week later, Harry visits again.

From the top of his tower, Draco leans against the window and watches the hero fuss with the door’s lock. It was a good idea getting one. The downside was having to go all the way down to open the door for the guests instead of yelling at them to just come up. Why did he insist on a tower and not a common house? It would be easier to clean and the kitchen would be less cramped.

What was done was done and by that we mean the tower’s mortgage. Now, with the lock, Draco was considering growing his hair long enough to throw it for guests to climb, but that too would be a hassle and he wished for no dirty hands messing with his locks.

“Did you bring any gold this time?” he yells.

“Um, no?”

Draco closes the curtains.

“No! Wait! I bought a cake!”

So Draco throws the keys for him to climb up inside.

“Hello,” Harry greets, not tired from the flight of stairs he climbed under a minute, “I was passing by and decided to visit.”

Lucky for him, Draco had some tea today. And from the weekend’s market, which meant it wouldn't taste like ashes or bones like his usual tea. They sit together at the table and try to share a conversation like two people, well, a person and a dragon, would. I heard the princess from the neighbouring country was captured, that was not you, was it? Of course not, that woman is horrendous. Common talk, you know.

At some point, Harry decides to ask what's been on his mind since their first meeting, “Just to be sure: Were you always a dragon or did you become one through a transformation of sorts?”

“I've been a dragon since I came out of my father's egg, which means, in your human terms, since I was born.”

It forces him to frown, not only at the image of this gorgeous man once being a small lizard crawling up from a cracked egg, but his father's egg? That sounded wrong for many reasons. “You father's what?

“Were you not aware? Male dragons are the ones who lay the eggs.”

Harry blinks. Then looks down at Draco's unfortunately clothed crouch, wondering where exactly the eggs came out from. He didn't exactly pay attention to what was under there the time he saw the dragon naked, where did the eggs came from? "So, do you have a..."

Draco deadpans, “Please leave.”

 

 

Harry spends his next days trying not to think about the cute dragon at the tower who is more probable to be snatched up by a princess than to capture one himself. Specially, he tries not to think about the whole egg thing, busying himself with a few missions posted at the town’s plaza.

And, when he finishes all of them and slays the last slime monster he was tasked with slaying, God decides to bless him for the first time in his life.

That blessing comes in the format of Draco, the dragon, and an accidental meeting at the town's square. Harry gives off his biggest smile and Draco suddenly looks as if he wanted to be anywhere but there. Harry was not sure if that was because of his presence or if the dragon did not want to be seen carrying a chocolate cake around.

“I didn't know dragons bought their food from human stores.”

“Where else would I get food?” Draco appeared offended, pronouncing each word as if talking to a crazy person. “Are you expecting me to hunt by myself?”

It's not that crazy of an option, Harry thinks, before remembering how much Draco disliked getting out of his tower or, actually, doing any kind of manual task. Instead, he gives off an information that can be seen as a future invitation for dinner, “I hunt some hares near my house when I feel like it.”

“That's different,” Draco huffs, taking the opportunity to force Harry into carrying his recently acquired ingredients, “that's because you are the provider.”

Harry is not sure what provider means. He barely knows what that meant in English, but he was sure that was another draconian concept he was not aware of. All he hoped was that it meant a compliment.

Having no need to think deeply about cultural — racial? — differences, Harry instead points out to a small white gecko by their feet, “Is that your cousin?”

Deep in silence, Draco thinks for a beat, “It can't be. Surely, my aunt eloped a few years ago but they shouldn't have such young spawns, unless… No way…” then he pales, kneeling on the ground to better see the gecko. “Is that you, Edward?”

Seeing him talking to that common lizard trying to decipher if it was his youngest nephew made Harry glad the concept of jokes had yet to be popularized between dragons, for Draco looked cuter confused than angry. Still, Harry understood his uncertainty. A few days ago, a frog appeared in his garden and Harry thought it could be Neville, his old pal — you could never be sure which animals were, in fact, animals and not cursed humans, considering such curses became a trend between wizards recently. Yet, before he could talk to the frog, an eagle took it away in front of his eyes, to which Harry decided not to think much about it to not mourn the death of a friend.

After the small lizard confirmed his identity of a common lizard and not a lost family member, they continued their way towards the forest, as Harry decided to walk the dragon home and perhaps stay for dinner.

By the tower’s door, a stranger stood, face disturbingly twisted into a scowl as the person (correction, dragon) he waited for was not there. Turning around, the blonde stranger growled at the duo, “Draco!”

Harry instantly recognized that man. How could he not? Their current king, Lucius Malfoy, the man who ordered Harry to go on a dangerous suicidal journey without hoping for his return. He stepped in front of Draco, extending his arm to protect him from Lucius. King or not, anyone who had business with Draco would have to speak with him first.

Or maybe not, as Draco crossed his arms and pouted, “Father! I said I’m not going back!”

Father? The one who laid Draco’s egg? Harry blinked in astonishment. Well, now that it was mentioned, he could see some similarities, especially with the blonde and long hairstyle the father and son duo had going on. Knowing their relationship, it made Harry even more angry at the sight of the man — if the king had a son, why wouldn't he offer his hand in marriage to their national hero? Was he waiting for another catastrophe and another hero to marry Draco off? Why did Harry only get a wooden house and the bread coupons when other heroes all got someone's hand in marriage? Life could be so unfair.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, don’t make me repeat myself again! Your mother is so worried about you she can barely sleep!”

“I always said I wanted to live like a real dragon! And you said I could do whatever I wanted after I came of age!”

“We thought that by then you'd give up on that stupid idea…” Lucius scoffs. “Besides, a real dragon would never walk home with a chocolate cake in hands.”

“Do you know how difficult it is to find gold in this economy?”

“You don't even have a mate to hunt and gather for you, there's no way I’m allowing you to keep living alone in this run-down tower.”

“And who says I don't have a mate?”

Then, he points. towards Harry. Harry also points towards himself, utterly confused. He forgot he was an active part of this scene, considering no one had bothered to address his presence during this family drama.

Lucius, finally noticing that no one other than the man he tried sending to his own death a few months ago was now his son’s desired mate, paled right away, seeming as if he could faint any moment now. “Harry Potter?”

“Um. Hello, your highness, sir.”

“I told that painter to make your portrait horrendous on purpose! So Draco would not entertain any ideas of offering himself in marriage to a hero!”

“Father!” Draco’s cheeks were pink.

So that explains the crooked nose. And the beard. Harry always wondered why the portraits of him hanging around town were so off. And why no one recognized him unless he said his name. Huh.

Gritting his teeth, at least Lucius knows when to step out in defeat. He points his finger threateningly at Harry, once, then back at his son, “I will be hearing about this!”

After he leaves, Draco, still with the faintest blush, gives out the longest of sighs, “I didn't want my father to hear about this but, well.”

Seeing him unlock the door as if everything was normal, Harry decided to bite the bait, “Did you just call me your mate?”

“It was quite rushed from me, I know, considering you haven't finished the courting ritual, still…”

Harry stops where he is, by the lowest flight of stairs, “Wait, which ritual?”

“The courting ritual, of course.”

Oh, that. How could Harry forget? He was not aware of any ritual and much less any ritual he was actively participating on, still, it would be less embarrassing going with the flow than admitting, “Can you go over each step of it for me?”

“You proved your strength by defeating the enemies that invaded my tower”, Draco started, not looking back as he ascended the stars, “and today you showed off your hunting skills.”

It seemed like hares were enough to satisfy a dragon. Sadly, you can't live on hares alone, as they are not nutritious enough. Harry'd need to learn how to hunt bigger animals if that was one of the requirements.

“You also showed off your ability to fulfill my needs by bringing me food.”

Cake and mushrooms, highly nutritional.

“You are still missing the gold offering, however, we have no time left.”

By the time Draco finishes listing each of his courting feats, they have already reached the top floor. “Since I need my father to leave me alone, we may skip the gold step and copulate as soon as possible.”

Copulate.

“You mean sex?”

Draco turned around to stare blankly at him, “Yes. But do not worry, we won't be able to have offspring this soon, since I’m unable to produce eggs for you to fertilize during this time of the year.”

“Oh,” Harry tried not to think of the eggs, “when will you be able to?”

“You are eager. Unfortunately, we'll need to wait until autumn, then I’ll rest and warm our eggs during winter until they are ready to hatch.”

“Sure. Any other weird biology I should be aware of before I’m roped into this?”

“What would be considered ‘weird’ for the human species?”

“Dunno. Two dicks or something like that.”

Draco tilts his head to the side, thinking for a few seconds, “I can self lubricate.”

Yeah, that sold it for Harry.

You know what , he thinks, approaching the blonde, what the hell, sure.

The hero kisses the dragon.

A month later, they held a small ceremony between the woods to celebrate their wedding. All their friends were invited, including the princess from the neighbouring kingdom, Pansy, whom Draco called horrendous before. It seems like the dragon who kidnapped her quickly gave up and sent her back with an apology letter, which she seemed not very happy about.

Every single one of Harry's companions were present, including Neville who — still in frog form — attended his marriage with his eagle partner, who thankfully seemed to have taken a liking to the frog before it could eat him. The eagle appeared to be a former human who was also cursed but, unfortunately for them, neither could return to their previous forms as beaks didn't count as lips and so could not be qualified for a kiss. Sometimes wizards just did not think that far ahead when cursing someone, a common mistake.

Lucius Malfoy could not stop crying, even while screaming all sorts of curses and threats towards Harry. His wife, Narcissa, told the couple to pay no mind and give her grandchildren as soon as possible.

They were already planning for that, when the cold arrives. Before that, they’d probably move out of Draco’s tower into Harry’s house.

Towers were often not safe for dragons, they’d learned.

Notes:

sometimes you just have a mental bag filled with dragon jokes. so you write it. thats kinda how the bee movie came to be(e).

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