Harry Potter: A Typical Man(SI OC)

The day started calm—a rare thing in my life these days. Daphne and I were tucked under a tree at the Greengrass summer estate, enjoying the last few hours of peace before the wedding chaos descended like a rogue Bludger. I had just finished telling her everything that happened in the hospital wing.

Hermione Granger, petrified. Draco Malfoy, kneeling beside her bed, clutching her hand with a desperation that pierced through the arrogance he'd always worn like armor.

Daphne's reaction was immediate—shock, disbelief, and then... sympathy. The sharp kind. The kind that cuts deeper when it comes from someone who used to despise the name Malfoy.

"He... really loves her, doesn't he?" she whispered.

I nodded. "He doesn't even realize it fully yet. But yeah. It's there. Buried under all that pride and conditioning. It just needs room to breathe."

Daphne looked down, brushing her fingers over the fabric of her pale blue dress. "Do you think he'll get that chance?"

"Only if we give it to him."

She nodded slowly. "Then let's make sure he gets it."

-----

I'll admit, for all the things I've done, standing in the gilded drawing room of Malfoy Manor—invited, mind you—wasn't how I pictured the start of this. But here we were: Severus Snape, perfectly composed, clad in stylish obsidian-black mugglewear that made him look like he just walked off the cover of "Wizards & Wheels" magazine. And me, trying to look like a harmless Ravenclaw student, despite the fact I could knock out a centaur with the gear hidden under my robes.

Snape's hair was tied back, leather gloves tucked neatly under one arm, and an expression carved from pure granite. He looked every inch the Potion Master, but there was a strange softness in his eyes. Maybe it was nerves. Maybe it was disbelief that he was finally doing this.

Lord Cedric Greengrass stood beside me, also invited as a respected peer of Lucius Malfoy and lifelong friend of Severus. He carried himself with aristocratic confidence that seemed to bristle the longer we waited.

Then Lucius entered, all platinum-blond elegance and veiled disdain, trailed by Narcissa, serene but skeptical. And finally, Draco. He entered last, eyes shifting warily between all of us.

"Severus," Lucius said with that cold, silky drawl. "What an unexpected pleasure. To what do we owe this... curious assembly?"

Snape gave a polite nod. "Lucius. Narcissa. I've come to take Draco with me."

There was a moment of dead silence, as if someone had vacuumed the air out of the room.

Lucius arched a brow. "Take him?"

"Yes. For advanced potion tutoring and apprenticeship. An immersion in real-world application, beyond what Hogwarts curriculum currently offers."

Draco's eyes widened, and Narcissa tilted her head. "So suddenly?"

Snape's mouth twitched in something dangerously close to a smile. "With the term over, there is no better time."

Lucius looked at me. I kept my expression neutral, arms folded behind me like an obedient intern, not the Ravenclaw combat-trained operative I actually was.

"And he?" Lucius asked.

"Jon Bonds," Snape said, smoothly. "Ravenclaw. One of my most promising apprentices."

Lucius frowned. "A muggleborn?"

Snape didn't blink. "One of the sharpest magical minds I've encountered."

Draco glanced at me again. I gave him a quick salute. He blinked, clearly struggling to process this entire situation.

"This is quite... abrupt," Narcissa said. "Draco hasn't packed."

"We'll wait," Snape replied.

Draco turned to his father. "Can I go?"

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "If this is what your godfather believes best."

"I do," Snape said.

"Then fine," Lucius said. "Do make sure he returns intact."

Draco was visibly stunned, but he turned on his heel and began packing without protest. It was probably the most surreal thing he'd experienced all year—and that was saying something at Hogwarts.

As he left the room, Narcissa approached Severus. Her tone softened. "You've always been like a second father to him. Please... keep him safe."

Snape nodded once. "With my life."

"You're really pulling this off," I muttered to him as the Malfoys left the room.

"Did you expect less?"

"No, I just thought you'd need a distraction. Like me setting fire to a tapestry."

"Please don't."

Five minutes later, Draco returned, trunk in hand, and his expression caught somewhere between awe and suspicion.

"So you're really dragging me off for tutoring?"

Snape nodded. "You'll thank me later."

Draco glanced at me. "And him?"

"Let's just say you'll get used to Jon," Snape replied, already turning toward the exit. "He grows on you. Like mold."

"Gee, thanks," I muttered.

I thought Draco was going to combust. Not in a magical explosion kind of way—more like that dignified, aristocratic mental breakdown that only purebloods seem to perfect. It started the moment we crossed the ward line of Malfoy Manor and walked toward Severus's parked Jaguar like we were heading out for a casual stroll.

Draco, carrying his bags and still visibly confused, stopped dead when he saw the car. "Is... that a car? A muggle car? Professor, please tell me this is part of some experiment in magical transportation and not real life."

Severus raised a brow. "You'll live, Draco. It's a car, not a Thestral."

"I—But—you own this thing?"

"Yes," Severus replied calmly.

"And you drive it?"

"I also wear tailored muggle fashion and enjoy red wine on the balcony. Adjust."

It was the kind of response that should've ended the conversation, but Draco was clearly spiraling.

"I've never even been in a car. Does it fly? Please tell me it flies."

I laughed. "It doesn't. That's a different model."

He looked betrayed. "Why am I in this metal box of doom then?"

"Because you're being taken to learn something important," Severus said.

Draco muttered something very aristocratic under his breath, probably questioning our sanity. As we got in, he stared at every detail like it might explode.

"This isn't normal," he said. "I'm just saying it now."

We drove in silence, letting his confusion marinate. But it didn't take long before he tried again.

"So... this really isn't a potions retreat?"

"No," Severus replied, eyes on the road.

"But I packed vials. And goggles. I'm wearing my non-exploding robes."

"You look lovely," I offered.

"Thanks," Draco deadpanned. "Is this how Ravenclaws flirt?"

"Only the classy ones."

When we arrived at the estate Diana had prepared, a sleek countryside manor modernized with muggle luxury and magical security, Draco's anxiety transformed into full-on panic.

"This isn't a lab," he said.

"Nope," I replied.

He turned to Severus. "Are you sure we're not breaking international laws? Because this feels like a kidnapping."

"It's not a kidnapping," Severus said evenly. "It's a rescue."

"Of me?"

"Yes."

"From what?"

Severus gave me a nod. Time to drop the veil.

-----

We sat beneath a sky smudged with dusky hues, the kind that promised either peace or ruin. The tension clung to Draco's posture like frost on glass—rigid, unsure, desperate to hide everything underneath layers of pride that were beginning to crack.

We hadn't even gotten to the manor when his suspicion burst like a dam breaking.

"So, you're telling me," Draco drawled, voice low and teetering on mockery, "you took me from my home, drove me in some ridiculous Muggle vehicle I still believe might explode at any moment, and now we're… what? Having a picnic? A séance? Should I prepare myself for a duel or a wedding?"

Snape let out a breath.

"You'll find out soon," he said. "But before that… we talk."

"About what?" Draco's eyes narrowed, flickering between us. "Because right now, I feel like I've woken up in someone else's dream. Or nightmare."

I sat down on the stone ledge beneath a willow tree, its branches swaying like memories. "About you. And what you felt. That night. In the Hospital Wing."

His shoulders locked.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Snape stepped forward, arms crossed. "Don't lie to me, Draco. I saw the shift in you months ago. I ignored it, thinking it was a phase. A crush. But Bond saw more. You think we don't recognize that look? The same look I had once, long ago, when I stared at someone I thought the world would never let me have."

Draco flinched, and the bravado cracked just slightly. Just enough.

"I—" he started. But the words died in his throat.

Snape didn't let up. "History is repeating itself, Draco. Same story. Different names. And I am not going to sit by and watch it end the same way."

Draco turned to me. "Why are you here?" he asked. There was no anger in his voice anymore. Just bone-deep confusion and weariness. "Who even ARE you, really? You're a Ravenclaw, a Muggleborn. You're nobody."

I smiled, slowly.

"I'm nobody important, Draco. Just someone who refuses to let history write the same ending twice. You're his godson. He's my brother. And I'm here because you need to hear this. Because you love her."

He sat down then, not collapsing, but folding like something too heavy to bear was pressing down on his back.

"I can't," Draco whispered. "I can't love her. It's not about me. If I love her, if I even try to—she'll be hurt. My name alone could ruin her. If the Dark Lord ever returns, if my family finds out…"

His voice cracked.

"I'd rather die than see her suffer because of me."

My throat felt tight. Snape looked away, his jaw tense, eyes staring at ghosts I knew were named Lily.

"You think I don't know that feeling?" Snape said, quietly. "I stood by while the woman I loved married someone else. I said nothing. Did nothing. And then… I knelt at the feet of a monster who took everything from me."

"I lost her," he continued, voice low. "I didn't fight soon enough. And I carry that regret every single day. I see it in the mirror. In my dreams. I won't let that happen again. Not with you. Not with her."

Draco was silent.

"I'm not strong enough," he finally said. "I've been told who I am my whole life. I don't know how to be anything else."

I opened the small silver case.

Inside was a perfectly shaped electric-blue fruit, swirling with energy like a storm frozen mid-roar.

"This is the Goro Goro no Mi," I said. "The Rumble-Rumble Fruit. It turns you into lightning itself. Unstoppable. Untouchable. If you want strength, here it is. But power without reason is just another weapon."

Draco stared.

"You're giving this to me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

I stood, walking closer.

"Because you're capable of love. Because when the storm comes—and it will come—you'll have to choose. And I want you strong enough to choose right. I want you strong enough to protect her. Even if she never knows. Even if she never loves you back. I want you to have that choice."

Draco's hands trembled.

"Is this… really happening?"

"Yes," Snape said, a faint smile on his lips. "And it gets better. You're not just here for tutoring."

Draco blinked. "Then what—?"

"You're here," Snape said slowly, "for my wedding."

Draco's jaw dropped. "Wait. You're… getting married? To whom?"

"To a Squib," Snape replied with calm finality. "A woman who sees the man beyond the robes."

Draco reeled. "A Squib. In Muggle London. You're serious?"

Snape gave him a rare, amused look. "I've never been more serious."

Then Draco turned to me again. "And you? What's your deal?"

I shrugged. "Engaged. To your classmate, actually."

"To who now?"

"Daphne Greengrass."

Draco looked like he'd just short-circuited. "I—what—the Ice Queen?! And you're… okay, this is too much."

He slumped into the bench like someone had punched the air out of him. "You two are insane. Completely mad. And I think I'm hallucinating."

Snape chuckled. "Welcome to the resistance."

There was silence for a moment. The wind blew, soft and full of unseen promises.

"I'll take the fruit," Draco finally said, cradling it in his palms. "And I'll fight. For her. Even if it means standing against everything I've ever known."

I nodded.

Snape stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll be there with you," he said. "Every step of the way."

"And," Snape added with a smirk, "I want you to be my ring bearer."

Draco blinked, stunned. "Me?"

"There's no one else I'd trust more."

Draco was quiet for a long beat, then let out a shaky laugh. "Okay. Yeah. I'll do it. But… Merlin's beard. This is mad."

He looked down at the glowing fruit, a smile ghosting his lips. "You really think I can love her? Without fear?"

"You already do," I said. "Now let's make sure no one ever takes that from you."

As the sun dipped behind the hills, and the light turned gold and red, I felt something shift.

Not fate. Not destiny.

Just a boy making a choice to be more than what he was told to be.

And that was enough to shake the world.

Draco's POV:

I cleared my throat and stepped into the garden like I was preparing to enter the Wizengamot floor.

The moment I spotted Lord and Lady Greengrass standing beside each other — Cedric looking relaxed in a perfectly ironed button-down, and Delphina in a flowing white blouse and jet-black trousers that looked like they came from some glossy Muggle magazine — I froze.

I bowed — deeply, as my mother taught me.

"Lord Cedric Greengrass. Lady Delphina. Miss Daphne. Miss Astoria. I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, heir of House Malfoy, am deeply honored to stand in your presence. May the virtues of our ancient bloodlines continue to bind our houses in strength and unity."

Silence.

Not polite silence.

The what-the-hell-is-he-doing kind of silence.

Cedric blinked. Delphina slowly turned her head to her husband and murmured, "Did he just cast a speech?"

"Feels like it," Cedric replied.

Then she looked back at me and gave a radiant smile. "Draco, sweetheart. This is a garden party, not a political summit. Relax before you sprain your spine."

"I—uh—yes. Sorry."

"Also," Daphne said, biting back a laugh, "did you just 'Miss Daphne' me like we're hosting a Pureblood cotillion?"

Astoria snorted. "You sounded like a butler."

My ears went red.

And then I saw Jon, sipping his drink with his usual smirk. "You know," he said, "I could tell you were going to do that. Cedric owes me five galleons."

"You bet on me being formal?"

Snape, standing nearby, deadpanned, "You call that 'formal'? I thought he was about to recite his will."

Diana laughed — genuinely laughed — and stepped forward, extending a hand with the poise of someone who could command a room without raising her voice.

"You must be Draco," she said, eyes twinkling. "I'm Diana Rockford — and yes, I'm the woman marrying your very grumpy godfather. Don't let the hair fool you, he's just as sarcastic under all that silk."

I took her hand like I was handling a porcelain vase. "You're... you're the one he's marrying?"

She smirked. "Shocking, isn't it?"

Snape grunted. "It's the eyes, Draco. She fell for my eyes."

"I thought she was under the Imperius Curse," I muttered. Loud enough for everyone to hear.

They all laughed. Even Snape.

"Come on, Draco. Let's unbutton that metaphorical collar," Diana added, looping her arm through mine.

She led me deeper into the garden, past flowers and small garden tables — and that's when I saw them all clearly.

Every single Greengrass — including Lord and Lady — was dressed in sleek, elegant Muggle fashion. Cedric wore a charcoal-gray vest over a deep burgundy shirt with matching slacks. Delphina had traded the usual wizarding robes for a forest-green pantsuit that shimmered like silk and looked like it cost half a fortune. Daphne was in a white sleeveless top with stylish black pants and heels. Even Astoria was in a miniature bomber jacket over jeans, sipping a pink smoothie like a rebellious fashion icon.

Meanwhile… I was dressed like a Dickensian ghost.

My traditional dark robes hung heavy in the summer breeze. I looked like I should be haunting an abandoned spellbook.

"Merlin's beard," I muttered, half to myself. "I look like I lost a duel to a drapery store."

Jon clapped me on the back. "Come. We're taking you to the light."

They dragged me into one of the manor's spare guest rooms and within half an hour…

I emerged a changed man.

Tailored black jeans. A white shirt that actually fit my frame. A navy blue jacket that had structure. Leather shoes that didn't feel like burlap socks.

I caught my reflection.

And stopped.

"Bloody hell," I whispered.

I turned. Jon grinned. "You've just crossed into the world of taste."

Delphina gave an approving nod. "Welcome to the 20th century, darling."

"I've dressed like a cursed librarian for thirteen years," I said in disbelief. "This whole time… fashion was real?!"

Snape walked past in his wedding suit — blond hair slicked back, obsidian tie, sharp jacket that screamed elegance and intimidation all at once.

I blinked at him.

"Sir," I said carefully, "no one is going to believe me when I tell them that Professor Severus Snape looks like an Armani model who moonlights as a spy."

"I'll deny everything," he replied coolly.

"How did you even get her?!" I asked, eyes shifting toward Diana, who was currently sipping from a wine glass and chatting with Delphina like they'd been friends for years. "She looks like a Vogue model and laughs like she's never heard of dungeon sarcasm."

Jon raised an eyebrow. "Tonight, you'll find out."

Cedric grinned, practically bouncing. "Boys' night. Cars. You, me, Snape, and Jon. You ready, Draco?"

"For what exactly?"

Cedric clapped me on the back. "Tonight, my dear boy, you will see the gates of Valhalla... and they are made of carbon fiber and engine oil."

I blinked. "What does that mean?!"

Jon and Snape shared a smirk.

"You'll see," Snape said, voice low and amused.

Astoria streaked by in phoenix form again — laughing wildly as her flames flicked through the air.

"What was that—?!"

Jon leaned in. "She's a phoenix now."

I choked. "WHAT?!"

Then the red-tailed hawk with thunder trailing behind her swooped down — Vajra. I jumped.

"They're besties," Jon added.

I stumbled backwards. "That's a thunderbird. A literal thunderbird."

"And that's Astoria," Daphne said, sipping a smoothie. "We all gave up questioning it."

"None of this makes any sense."

"It gets better," Cedric said, handing me a glass bottle of something cold and fizzy. "Try this. It's called Fanta. Muggle drink. Orange. Addictive."

I took a sip.

My soul left my body.

"...this is ambrosia."

"You're starting to get it," Jon smirked.

"And this is why wizards are stuck in the dark ages?" I shouted. "Why the bloody hell do we still use quills?!"

Delphina waved a nail file. "Because most wizarding traditions are held together by dust and denial."

Snape crossed his arms. "We'll discuss more after dinner. Tomorrow's the rehearsal. The wedding is in two days."

I looked up at the setting sun, the scent of phoenix smoke in the air, and the fizz of sugar and citrus on my tongue.

Honestly?

I had no idea what tomorrow held.

But if this was what chaos felt like...

I could live with it.