Disclaimer: Sadly, none of it's mine.
Rating: NC-17 for future chapters; PG for this chapter.
A/N: I've been constantly reading HD slash for ever and I've become increasingly frustrated with the teeming amount of fanfic that's out there about Harry dressed in leather, mesh, and wearing make-up while he slashes his wrists and Draco being a whiny wimp who just takes it. Personally, these just don't do it for me though they are entertaining to read every once and a while. As a result, I'm finally writing what I want to read. Hopefully you enjoy it!
Chapter One: Caught in the Act
Harry breathed a sigh of relief when Ron and Hermione excused themselves, mentioning something about going for a walk. Of course Harry wasn't stupid and he knew for a fact that their relationship had intensified over the summer, if catching Hermione in Ron's bed on more than one occasion was any indicator. So, 'going for a walk' actually meant that the only walking they would be doing was to somewhere private and secluded so they could snog each other's brains out.
Peering out the door, Harry made sure that no one was coming and closed the door shut quietly. He reached into his bag above where he had been sitting and pulled out a novel that he had found in the bookstore in Diagon Alley. He remembered the smirk that Seamus had given him when Harry had pleaded with him to buy it and a couple others for him. Seamus agreed without much persuasion, knowing that if Harry had bought them, his face would be plastered across the Daily Prophet, underneath a title that when something like, "Our Gay Savior – Harry Potter Caught Buying Gay Magazine." It wasn't a secret that Harry planned on keeping for much longer, since his hormones were becoming unbearable, but it wasn't something that Harry wanted the entire Wizard World to know about just yet either.
Flicking to the dog-eared page, Harry was immediately wrapped in the story of two sworn enemies, destined to be together. He smirked to himself as he briefly considered pulling out one of the two magazines that Seamus had insisted on Harry getting, but he didn't know when Ron and Hermione would be back. Getting caught wanking off on the Hogwarts Express wasn't exactly on Harry's list of things to do. He was more than happy to read his fluffy romance novel and wondered what it would be like to do all the naughty things the author explicitly wrote about.
"So Saint Potter is a pillow-biter," Harry heard from the doorway.
Leaning casually against the door jam in his very own mastered eloquent way, was Draco Malfoy with his arms folded over his chest and a smirk playing at his thin lips. Harry immediately paled at the realization that he must have been so enthralled with his book that he hadn't even heard the door slide open.
"Well, do you have anything to say for yourself?"
Draco's predatory grin sent a shiver down Harry's spine because he knew exactly what the platinum blond was thinking at that moment: blackmail. Grey eyes watched his Adam 's apple bob down then back up and teeth worry his bottom lip.
"I'm flattered that my mere presence renders you speechless, Potter."
"It's not mine," Harry replied hastily, dropping the book beside him.
Idiot, Harry muttered. Of course it's yours.
"I found it."
"And it appears that you were enjoying your little find," Draco insinuated, his eyes traveling across the slight bulge in Harry's trousers.
"Tut, tut, Potter. Can hear the millions of hearts breaking when all the girls discover that the Harry Potter is a poof? This is absolutely delicious news, I must say. How did you manage to keep it to yourself for so long?"
"Say anything? You're as stupid as I thought you were. How could I possibly keep this little morsel of information to myself? Do you realize how big this is?"
"What do you want?" Harry muttered, defeated and gripping the edge of the bench for support. His knuckles were white at his attempt to keep from jumping up and punching Draco right between the eyes.
"I doubt there is anything in your possession that I do not already have," Draco grinned.
Silence enveloped the cabin while Harry waited for Draco to name is price because he knew that the Slytherin would use this leverage as much as possible before he even considered letting it leak to the public. When Harry glanced back up, his jaw tightened at the sight of Draco clutching the top of the doorframe, leaning into the cabin. Harry's eyes flickered across the patch of skin of the pale boy's stomach that his hiked-up sweater revealed. Next, his gaze roamed across Draco's lean biceps that were accentuated due to his undeniably strategic position. The Slytherin was trying to either intimidate him or arouse him. What ever he was trying to do, both were working.
"Though I'm sure I'll think of something."
Draco's arms dropped gracefully to his sides and stood firmly in the middle of the entrance, figuring that the Gryffindor had planned an escape plan in his head since he was so quiet.
"Name it, Malfoy."
"Maybe I'll just tell everyone instead. There isn't anything I want from you anyways."
Harry stood and decided that it was a great idea to get in the blond's face. Before the summer, Harry figured that Draco was a couple inches shorter than him, maybe even the same height. Now, as Harry gripped each side of the doorway on either side of Draco to keep his hands from making fists, Harry realized that Draco was easily a few inches taller than him. It appeared that the blond thought the same thing for his mouth twisted up at the side in amusement. Harry's green eyes followed the movement before meeting Draco's stare.
"Desperation isn't very becoming on you, Potter," he said softly, since the Gryffindor was mere inches from his face. "Though I must admit, hearing you beg is something I look forward to."
"Malfoy, what are you talking about?"
"In due time, Harry."
A sudden rush of cool air caressed his face when Draco quickly exited, somewhat gliding as he walked. Harry clutched the doorway tighter and growled, disappointed with himself that he had allowed Draco to dominate the situation and have the upper hand.
Turning back to find the discarded book waiting for him on the cushioned seat, Harry sighed and picked it up. He decided that it was time to put it back in his bag since it had already caused enough trouble for one day. As Harry sat back down, he thumped his head back against the wall, chiding himself again.
"Ugh, that prat gets more arrogant every year, I swear," said Ron, stepping into the train cabin.
"Ron, could you try to be civil?" asked Hermione, sitting down next to him and rubbing his thigh with her hand. "Harry, are you okay?"
"Yeah, a little tired, actually. Who were you talking about?"
"Just saw Malfoy a minute ago looking as smug as ever, if not more so. Did you see him, mate?"
"No, must have missed him."
"Good," announced Hermione. "The fewer the confrontations the better, I think. Maybe this year you and Malfoy could try being friends or at least acquaintances."
"Somehow, I doubt that very much," Harry scowled, picking at a loose thread on his trousers.
"If you have that attitude," she retorted, looking at Ron for some support.
"'Mione, Harry and Malfoy becoming friends would mean that Hell froze over."
"You don't even believe in Hell, Ron!"
"Well, then, if Harry and Malfoy become friends, I'll root a Hippogriff."
Harry chuckled at Ron's crude words and listened to Hermione chastise his friend and inform him of all the reasons why he should take back what he had just said. Hermione looked indignant and Ron appeared like he couldn't have cared less. Harry, on the other hand, didn't know what he felt like. His mind was jumping back and forth, sending him conflicted messages. In one breath, Harry was frightened about what Malfoy would do or say, or make him do or say. And then Harry couldn't help but revel in the sight of Draco's exposed skin, fit body, and alluring eyes that had him panting like a dog in heat. Confused, Harry stared at the door and wondered what exactly Draco had up his sleeve.