‘Harry Potter, an Omega?’
‘Rita Skeeter reports that our savior is not the beta he pretends to be. An anonymous source encountered a Harry Potter in heat, having a torrid affair with one former death eater, Draco Malfoy. This reporter questions what the Auror department will say about this development. More details on page 7.’
Harry threw the paper onto his table. Fucking Skeeter. He felt sick.
Pacing back and forth, Harry ran his fingers violently through his hair. What was he going to do? Everyone was going to know, and he was going to lose his place in Auror training. Omegas couldn’t be Aurors after all thanks to the Wizarding World’s antiquated laws forbidding them from most dangerous occupations.
He sighed and sat back at the ancient table. He would talk to Kingsley, see if anything could be done. He was Harry Potter, after all, that should count for something.
Harry went to his bedroom to change quickly into his robes then returned downstairs. He saw a small pile of letters already at his front door.
‘Only going to get worse.’ Harry thought, pulling on his shoes. ‘Time to see if I can salvage this.’
Harry left his house, locking the door behind him.
He apparated to the lobby of the ministry of magic. People stared at him as he passed, whispering. He blocked them out though and went into the crowded elevator. Here it was harder to block out the whispers.
“Potter, an Omega?”
“And he’s working as an Auror? That can’t be safe.”
“Won’t be for long.”
Harry clenched his fist and breathed in deeply through his nose. He was fine. He could do this.
He got out on his floor and marched up to the Auror office. He passed the desks plastered with images of criminals and the stares of his coworkers. Finally, he knocked on the door of Kingsley Shacklebolt’s office. His boss.
“Come on in, Mr. Potter.” Said a deep smooth voice.
Harry breathed in slowly, then opened the door with a creak. The office was bright and messy, with stacks of papers everywhere. There was an enchanted window showing the busy streets of Diagon Alley behind the tall, black man sitting at the desk. He was writing something.
“I read the paper today, Potter. Is it true?”
“It is then.”
Kingsley sighed and stretched. His purple robes strained at the movement, fluttering behind him. He looked at Harry sadly.
“The law explicitly states that we cannot have an Omega Auror.”
“But… but! I can do it! You know I can!”
Kingsley shook his head.
“It’s not up to me. I received a memo from the minister this morning. You must resign, or action will be taken against you. The law-”
“The law is antiquated and useless! I’m not going to start obeying everyone that orders me around, or pop out a million kids.”
“But that's how the public thinks. I’m sorry Mr. Potter.”
Kingsley set the resignation papers in front of Harry. Harry recoiled, staring down at them. He hesitated a few moments, then began to fill them out.
It wasn't long before he was done. When he finished, Kingsley took the papers and stood up.
“I will take this to Human Resources. You have a good reference from me, Potter. Don’t forget that.”
Harry followed, standing up with a sigh. It was over. He was no longer an Auror. He did not know what he was going to do. Omegas did not exactly have a lot of options in the wizarding world, and now everyone fucking knew.
He had to talk to Darius. He had to find out what happened, how it had been allowed to happen. He left the Ministry as fast as possible, apparating to the brothel. It was quiet; the reporter must not have revealed the address.
Just as he came to the door, it swung open. Darius came out, wringing his hands.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Potter. Please, come inside.”
Harry scowled. He said, “were you responsible for this?”
“I assure you, I was not, Mr. Harry Potter, sir. Please, come inside.”
Darius creaked open the door and Harry followed him inside, passing the many doors along the hallway until they reached a small office at the end.
Harry sat on the rickety chair across from the desk as Darius sat down behind it.
Harry’s emerald eyes narrowed, and he said, “I was almost a full Auror. Just a few months away. And now I’ve lost my job.”
“I understand, Mr. Potter. But it was not us! It couldn't have been, the spells of confidentiality bind us. Even now, we can’t speak of it.”
“Well, you must have missed something. Malfoy is tricky after all. I bet he snuck something by.”
Darius sighed, burying his head in his hands. He muttered, “never should have hired that no-good death eater.”
Looking up once more, Darius said, “consider him fired. I will find you a replacement for next month.”
Harry shook his head.
“I won't be back. I’m going to pursue other options. Goodbye, Mr. Darius.”
“I won’t be able to change your mind, will I Mr. Potter?”
“No. Good day.”
Harry stood up, knocking back the chair. He strode out into the hallway. Just as he was leaving, a disheveled looking Malfoy emerged from one of the rooms. He froze when he saw Harry.
A lump formed in Harry's throat. Malfoy looked beautiful as always, blonde hair mussed and sweaty. Mr. Darius, standing behind Harry, said “my office, Malfoy.”
He nodded quickly, averting his eyes. He followed Darius back into his office. As Harry was leaving, a large, older man emerged from the room. He smelled disgusting, like sex and stale sweat. He pushed past Harry, making him shudder as he left.
‘One of Draco's customers I suppose. But he’s no Omega…’
He shook his head. He just couldn't think about this. He thought he heard the echo of a pleading voice coming from the end of the hallway, but the door shut behind him before he could hear more.
Harry apparated away. Now that the secret was out, it was time to try suppressants. And find a new job. And forget about Malfoy.
Walking into St. Mungo’s, Harry sighed. That was going to be hard to do.
The next few months passed quickly. Now that his secret was out, Harry started suppressants at St. Mungo’s. They made him feel sick and dizzy, but at least they stopped the monthly heats.
Harry got a letter from Professor McGonagall in early April. She was looking for a new Defense Professor, and she knew that Harry was still looking for a new job. With a heavy heart, Harry accepted the opportunity.
Rarely leaving the house, Hermione came every few days to check on him. Grimmauld place, while a lot nicer now that Kreacher liked him, was still a dark and lonely place. He was still receiving letters about his Omega status daily.
‘At least the nasty ones have stopped,’ Harry thought sourly, ‘now if only the propositions would as well.’
Harry was receiving letters daily from pureblood Alpha families, asking for meetings. He ignored them all, burning them in the kitchen fireplace.
The fireplace flashed green and Hermione stepped through the fireplace. She saw Harry sitting at the kitchen table morosely, still dressed in his pajamas despite the late hour. There were deep bags under his eyes and he looked pale and gaunt. He had lost a lot of weight since he lost his Auror internship at the ministry.
Hermione’s eyes narrowed. She slammed her hand down on the table, making Harry jump.
“Harry, you start work in a week!”
“I know, Hermione-”
“Well, you need to get ready. Come on, go get dressed. We will go buy you some new teaching robes.”
“Don’t you have work? How’s the Ministry?”
Hermione shook her head.
“It’s fine. Now stop stalling. Go get washed.”
Harry went upstairs into the room where Sirius had once lived. The walls were the same even after all these years; Harry couldn't bring himself to change a thing. Pulling out a pair of simple black robes, Harry went into his bathroom to change and wash up. After a few short minutes, he was done. Water dripped down his face from his wet hair as he walked down the stairs back to join Hermione.
She surveyed him critically. Flicking a speck of dust from the baggy robes, she said, “I guess that will have to do.”
He grimaced at her and she grabbed his arm. Reaching up into the jar of Floo powder, Hermione flicked some in and said Diagon Alley, pushing Harry into the green flames.
The world spun and he sputtered from the inhaled ash. Finally, he stumbled out into the leaky cauldron. Pulling the hood of his robes over his face, he went unnoticed in the crowded pub. Hermione came through soon after, looking as spotless as ever.
Tucking her bushy brown hair behind her ears, Hermione pulled out her wand from her arm holster. She tapped Harry’s robes, vanishing the ash with a single poke.
“Come on, let’s go to Madam Malkin’s,” Hermione said, gripping Harry’s arm.
Harry shrunk back. He was not used to the loud crowds after so many months alone. All he wanted was to return to his home. Hermione tugged his arm and he followed, trailing behind her through the busy streets of the alley.
“Do you need gold?” Asked Hermione.
Harry grimaced. The goblins still hadn’t forgiven him. Going to the bank was always an experience. He shook his head.
“Good,” Hermione said, sounding relieved.
They went into Madam Malkin’s. Hermione left him to look at the dress robes, leaving Harry to talk to the old witch. She brightened when she saw him,
“Welcome, Mr. Potter! Oh, are you needing new robes?”
“Yes,” he said, “I’m starting a new job soon and mine doesn't quite fit.”
“They do look rather big. Come on dear, let’s stand in the back. Your friend is here getting new robes too.”
‘Hermione doesn’t need any robes,’ Harry thought to himself, ‘who is she talking about?’
His stomach dropped. Standing on the other stool, getting fitted for a pair of robes, was Draco Malfoy.