Bonded [Dramione Omegaverse]

Chapter 1

The war was over. Harry Potter had won. From then on, life had strangely resumed with relative normalcy, except for the nightmares that plagued the protagonists of both factions.

June 5, 1998

It was his 18th birthday. It had been over a month since the Battle of Hogwarts. Unlike the other Death Eaters, the Malfoy's had had shameless luck. Narcissa had been totally exonerated by the testimony of the hero of the wizarding world, Harry Potter. Lucius had managed to escape Azkaban and remain under house arrest thanks to the actions of his wife and a large donation of money to the ministry.  

Draco had been saved by the testimony of someone he never expected: Hermione Granger.  

Apparently, the gesture that still guaranteed him a place in the world had been refusing to identify the three Gryffindors when they were captured and brought to the Manor.

"Draco bought us time," Hermione had declared on the day of his trial. "If it wasn't for him we would never have been able to escape the Manor, it's also because of him that we won the war."  

He had been incredulous.

The girl's words rang in his ears for weeks. How could she want to help him after what had happened to her?  

She had been tortured in his own home. Under his eyes.  

And he had done nothing.

The image of that day haunted him every time he closed his eyes. He was convinced that the nightmares would pass, or diminish, once the war was over. But they hadn't.

His train of thought was interrupted when his mother knocked on the door of his room.

"Draco, honey, could you come downstairs? Your father wants to talk to you."

Without giving her an answer, he moved foot after foot and walked out of his room, heading into the study where Lucius spent most of his time.  

He didn't know what his father wanted to talk to him about and almost didn't care anymore.

As soon as he crossed the threshold of the study the man smiled.  

"Come in Draco," he told him, "and close the door."

Hesitantly, the young man took a few steps forward, doing as he was told. "You wanted to talk to me?" he asked, skeptical.

Lucius walked over to a shelf above the large fireplace. He picked up a bottle and filled two glasses of fire-whiskey, handing one to his son and motioning for him to take a seat in one of the two armchairs in the large room. "Happy birthday son" he exclaimed, raising his glass.

"Thank you," replied the young man, responding to the toast and taking a large sip of the drink. Was this all he had summoned him for? No, impossible. Lucius Malfoy always had a second motive.

"You turn eighteen today." His father's tone sounded dangerously cheerful to the young man's ears.  

I know he would have liked to answer him, but he merely remained silent, continuing to sip his drink while waiting for him to continue with what he had to say.

"I guess you know what that means for a young pureblood man."  

Ah, there it was. He had said that.

Of course he knew, he knew it well. He had noticed the changes in his body.  

He continued to remain silent, staring at the bottom of the now empty glass.

"A young Alpha at your age usually begins to manifest," the man squared him from head to toe, "but you seem to have anticipated the process. Malfoy blood." Lucius' face was furrowed with an expression of pride.