QUICK FIC: Astoria's April Fools' Prank (Harry Potter)

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: On April 1st, Draco’s estranged wife invites him to come home. What could go wrong?

Content Warnings/Themes: Post-canon, ending without epilogue

I don’t generally do anything for April Fools, and wasn’t going to this year either, but this story idea suddenly popped into my head this morning, so here it is. I’m going to leave the pairing untagged for a day or so just for fun, but it’s probably exactly what you’re expecting.

Draco Malfoy was aware of the strange looks he got as he strutted around Diagon Alley with a smirk permanently attached to his face, but he didn’t care. Today was a day for celebration, and with the news his wife delivered via owl late the previous night, he was pretty sure the smirk wouldn't leave his face for days if not weeks.

At last, his wife Astoria had seen sense and realized how good they were together. Everything had been going wonderfully in their marriage until she started talking about how she wanted to raise any future children they had with the belief that muggleborn wizards and witches were deserving of the same respect as purebloods. When Astoria first said that she was going to make sure that all her children knew that the Sacred Twenty-Eight was rubbish and they were not any better than their muggleborn peers just because they had the Malfoy name, Draco laughed openly. It had been a fine joke, or so he thought. Yes, Draco had taken the family in a different direction after the war, but that was simply a necessity in a world where a certain half-blood with a lightning bolt scar on his forehead, whose name Draco refused to utter even in his head, was hailed as the hero who had saved them all. Toning down the rhetoric and accepting that half-blood and muggleborn wizards and witches were not going away was essential for the survival of the Malfoys, but that didn't mean that Draco was about to teach his children that they were no better than such common stock!

His face had frozen when Astoria assured him that she was dead serious and would not back down from that stance under any circumstances. Draco had done his best to appease her while still closing the door on the absurd notion of any future Malfoy children being taught that they weren’t better than the rest, but the damage had been done. She'd angrily stood her ground and all but threw Draco into the floo and out of the house.

Draco, the head of the Malfoy Family, had been thrown out of Malfoy Manor by his own wife. For the last three weeks, he’d been forced to live on the couch in his mother’s flat while he waited for his wife to come to her senses. He knew that his mother was tiring of his presence in the small flat she’d purchased for herself after his father was sentenced to Azkaban, but he would be out of her hair now. It had taken far too long, and Astoria had ignored any previous attempts he made to return to his home or initiate contact with her. But in the waning hours of March, Astoria had finally come around and sent him a letter. In it, she’d written that she’d kept him out of Malfoy Manor long enough, and it was time for him to come home. At last, she'd seen sense and come around to his way of thinking! She'd even told him not to come back until the following morning because she wanted to make sure that the manor was properly prepared for his return, a sure sign that she was going to apologize for her behavior unbecoming of a Malfoy wife and admit that he'd been right all along.

Astoria may have been at fault, but he wasn't going to punish her. He'd already decided that he was going to be magnanimous and accept her apology and even present her with a gift to celebrate her coming to her senses and welcoming him home. That was what had Draco strutting around Diagon Alley early in the morning, buying a collection of Astoria’s favorite sweets and flowers to present to her upon his return. After buying what he needed, he apparated to Malfoy Manor, landing just outside the front door as she’d requested. He looked at his pocket watch, confirming that it was now 8 o’clock in the morning. Time for him to come home and forgive his wife.

He let himself in through the front door, expecting Astoria to rush over and greet him, perhaps with breakfast in hand. That didn’t happen, but he was only mildly disappointed. Surely, she hadn’t come to him right away because she had an even greater surprise in store for him.

“Astoria?” he called out after waiting for a few seconds. “I’m home.” He received no response, so he went looking for his wife. She wasn't in the kitchen, the sitting room, or the drawing room. He frowned, shaking his head. "Astoria?" He called her name louder but still heard no response.

Draco decided to go upstairs, thinking that perhaps she was waiting for him in their bedroom. While going up the stairs, he stumbled over a pair of jean trousers hanging off of one step and would have fallen on his face if he hadn't caught the rail with his hands to right himself. He frowned at the trousers, confused as to what they were doing there. He wouldn't be caught dead wearing such blatantly muggle clothing, and neither would Astoria. So what were they doing on the stairs?

Shaking it off, Draco continued his walk up the stairs, which thankfully did not contain any more clothing obstacles to trip him up. Astoria hadn’t responded when he called her name on his journey up the stairs, but the moment that his foot reached the top, the door to the master bedroom swung wide open, magically beckoning him in. Draco’s smile returned. She was clearly in there, waiting for him to come to her. His wife was going to welcome him home in the best way possible.

“Astoria,” he declared, strutting into their bedroom. “I’m hom—”

He froze on the spot, and his speech died in his throat mid-word. Astoria was in their bedroom, sure enough. But she wasn’t alone, and she clearly hadn’t been waiting around for him. She was naked and on all fours, and an equally naked man was behind her, grabbing her hips and rutting her from behind with savage thrusts that made Astoria’s body rock. Instantly, the man fucking his wife looked horrifyingly familiar to Draco. Then he looked up from Astoria’s jiggling buttocks and met Draco’s eyes, confirming his worst fears. Familiar green eyes looked straight at Draco. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, but the lightning bolt scar on his forehead was all too familiar. Harry bloody Potter was fucking his wife!

Potter looked down at Astoria and said something, but even though Draco could see his lips moving, he couldn’t hear any sound. Astoria lifted her head and smiled at Draco, displaying not a hint of shame as her husband witnessed her betraying their marriage and defiling their bed with Harry Potter. Her lips moved without sound, and Potter nodded and waved his left hand through the air.

Instantly, Draco's ears were flooded with sound. He could hear his bed rocking under the stress put upon it by Potter's wild thrusts, and he could hear the slapping of skin on skin as his enemy's hips smacked against his wife's arse. He also heard Astoria moaning and crying out with pleasure every time Potter thrust back into her. Never in his marriage had he heard his wife sound anything like that.

“Welcome back to Malfoy Manor, Draco,” Astoria said. She was panting, and every syllable she uttered seemed to take quite a bit out of her. Astoria was drenched in sweat, her long blond hair was a mess, and there was something coating her face that looked suspiciously like dried semen. Just how long had they been at this?!

"I've kept you out of your family home long enough," she continued, though she had to stop between words to moan as Potter fucked her with even faster thrusts. The bastard seemed to be having the time of his life, shagging Draco's wife right in front of him. "I already moved my things out, and I'll be leaving this afternoon. After Harry and I are done in here, you can have your empty manor all to yourself.” She smirked at him as Potter grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. “But first, I wanted to give you a parting gift to remember our marriage by.”

Astoria lifted a trembling hand, slid her wedding ring off of her finger, and tossed it at Draco’s head. He caught it on reflex, and as soon as he caught it, a burst of magic pushed him backward, sending him out of the bedroom and knocking him on his arse.

“As if I’d ever take you back, you arsehole. Happy April Fools’ Day, Draco,” Astoria called out just before the door slammed shut, blocking Draco’s view of his enemy defiling his wife in his bedroom. But the closed door did not prevent him from hearing Astoria squeal in obvious pleasure, and he was still too shocked to get off of his arse before the knife twisted.

“Again, Harry?” Astoria giggled. “You’re not going to let me out of this bed until the next little Potter is in my belly, are you?”