AN: If you somehow clicked the wrong story, this is your last chance to close. HPLV! SMUT! Male on Male goodness! And you've been warned twice now. No complainants allowed about "lack of warning". Persecutors will be... Well, let's just not find out the hard way, k?

Rated Mature for Smut and language.

Summary: Before the Last Battle can commence, a train ride is in order. Unfortunately for Harry, Death Eaters have to ride too. While onboard, Harry's luck runs out, and he finds his seat next to a bored Dark Lord. Trainlest, HPLV, Smut, Oneshot




Dumbledore was giving his motivational speech to the light side fighters. Something about darkness could never triumph and how they were saving the future for their kids...Harry really wasn't paying any attention. It didn't matter to him what the old man said. He knew that the fight between himself and Voldemort was going to happen no matter what. They simply couldn't survive while the other was still alive.

Briefly, Harry faltered. He wondered why it had to work out this way. No matter what people thought of him he wasn't anything special. He wasn't that brave or that smart. He wasn't even that strong. Harry felt too young and inexperienced. 'Why does it have to be me?' He wondered. 'Why can't Dumbledore destroy him? He's much older and powerful than me. All I want is to have a normal life. They're sending me to my death and I haven't even lived! Hell, I haven't even slept with anyone.'

Harry was getting really nervous now. His training and his lessons didn't seem very helpful anymore. Dumbledore met his eyes and smiled. Harry exhaled slowly. It wouldn't do any good to worry about any of this. There wasn't anything he could do. He couldn't back down; he couldn't just sit around and wait for Voldemort to kill him. 'Things will just have to work themselves out. I can't change any of this and it's inevitable that he and I fight.'

The younger light followers looked to him, as if waiting for him to say something monumental. He smiled back at them. He knew some of his peers wouldn't make it through the battle. He knew that they were here, fighting in what they thought was right. Harry would do anything to be like them and have a choice in all of this. 'The least I could do is give them some encouragement. But, I'm not Dumbledore; I don't know what to say.' Harry opened his mouth and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Let's kick some Death Eater arse!" Childish? Yes. Effective? Yes. Harry smiled wider and mentally kicked himself. What a stupid thing to say, but the light side didn't seem to care what he said, just as long as he was there. 'I'm going to die a virgin.' Harry knew it was the stupidest thing to worry about, but everyone was always with someone and they all acted like it was so good, sleeping together and waking up in each other's arms. 'Well, who knows what will happen on the train?' Harry thought and snorted. Honestly, who would he fuck on the train?

People screamed "Yeah!" and everyone went off towards their destination, the only functional train left in all of magical Britain. Moving closer to their ride they could see people already there. But who?

Death Eaters; that's who. Everyone froze and looked conflicted whether or not they should start fighting here or if they had to wait until they got to the battlefield. Apparently, it was uncouth to start the 'Final Battle' anywhere except on the proper battlefield, because no one attacked, merely glared at each other. The train conductor came out and looked back and forth at the two sides in exasperation and amusement.

"Look here! If you two groups can't get along just for the train ride you won't be coming on."

"What?!" Light side members started to yell at the guy. "You money grubbing fool! Why would you ever let them get on?"

"Like you said; I like money. It's a nice profit to have you all on at once. Besides someone," he said, turning to the aurors in the light side, "broke the other trains by...accident." The aurors looked embarrassed as they shifted around uncomfortably.

"Promise not to kill each other aboard? I swear, blood never comes out. And I don't want to be picking up body parts everywhere. No one gets on until both sides promise."

The light side looked at the dark side and waited. No one was saying anything so Dumbledore stepped forward and said, "The battle will commence only on the battlefield." Voldemort lazily walked up to the conductor and gave his word. Then both of them proceeded to give their own meaningful looks at their own side. Dumbledore gave his 'Expecting Grandfather' look and Voldemort his 'I'll Make You Pay' look. When both sides seem to fully understand that no violence would take place aboard the train the conductor nodded to himself and motioned for the people to enter.

Everyone quickly made their way to the furthest side from each other; the light side in the front and the dark side in the back. No one wanted to be forced to sit next to the other side. It seemed even Dumbledore secured his own seat. Harry felt kind of dizzy from everyone pushing and shoving for a seat. He glanced at the front compartments and they all had an occupied sign.

Harry had a really bad feeling as he made his way to the only unfilled compartment. He stopped, realizing he was all alone in the train's halls, thinking if someone could cram him in somewhere. But he didn't feel like being stuck in some small place with everyone talking to him and giving him a headache. Heading to the middle compartment, he thought, 'Please don't be Bellatrix.'

Opening the door, he found out he got what he wished for. It wasn't Bellatrix; it was someone much worse. For the occupant in the compartment was Voldemort himself.

Harry wished he'd wished for a compartment full of newbie Death Eaters instead. Voldemort smirked and inclined his head, forcing Harry to go in and sit lest he lose face.

"Golden Boy," Voldemort greeted rather pleasantly.

"Murderous Snake," Harry replied back mocking the other's tone. At this Voldemort's smile grew wider. Harry was getting sick of this already.

"How long was this train ride again?" He mumbled, not really expecting an answer.

"Oh, about nine hours." Harry face fell into shock. He wasn't going to die in the final battle; he was going to die right here in this compartment!


Time trickled by slowly; ever so slowly. Harry fidgeted, eyes going towards the clock, before he shook his head. He wasn't going to do it, he could wait. Although the silence did start to bother him, someone from the next compartment over coughed. And then coughed again. Afterwards he started mumbling about wizard stocks. 'Bah!' Harry grimaced. 'It's been long enough; the time-wait game is over. Now, to check the time! I should have only seven more atrocious hours left!' He checked the time to assure that all was well and that this nightmare would be over soon. Thirteen minutes. It had only been 13 minutes. Apparently, Harry didn't factor in how time and the world in general seemed to despise him. He looked over to Voldemort. Just great; He was reading a book! He glowered at him for a second then went in for the kill.

"So, what book is that?" Harry blabbered out, desperate to break the unnerving silence that filled the air. Voldemort didn't even spare him a glance as he wordlessly showed him the cover and went back to reading. 'Damn it! He's doing this on purpose! Thinks he doesn't have to acknowledge me...'

Trying to get a response from the man he started rambling on. What he said he didn't even know himself. Finally, Voldemort looked up, red eyes blazing.

"Do you ever shut up?!" He snapped, glaring at a wide eyed Harry. "What's wrong Potter; Daddy wasn't around to give you love? You miss your redheaded girlfriend already? Did she die yet or is there another lucky person you have that'll get that honor today?" He mocked; utterly annoyed at the feeble attempts at...well, whatever it was Potter was trying to do.

Stiffening, Harry finally shut up, leaving the older man alone. Peace came as much as it could when you were sitting next to your very own personal green eyed black cat.

Dejectedly, Harry stared out the window and watched the land scenery go by in blurs. He wouldn't bother trying to fill the empty void of silence that surrounded them again.

Voldemort closed the book, he had read it before anyway. "Hit a nerve, did I? Frankly, I'm surprised that your little floozy can tolerate you and your prattling about Dumbledore. You'd think she'd get jealous the way you spend all your time looking at him with those moony eyes."

"I- She's not my girlfriend, or my anything. And I do not obsessively talk about Dumbledore." He protested. 'I don't talk about him that much...Do I?' Harry quietly wondered to himself.

"Mhmmm, whatever you say kid. Though I suppose I should be relieved you aren't moaning over the death of your boyfriend." Voldemort looked as nonchalant as ever, like he wasn't talking to the boy he schemed to kill at every opportunity.

"Boyfriend?!" Harry looked as if someone prodded him with a live electrical wire. He was speechless in indignation for several more moments before he managed to ask, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You forget them so quickly." Voldemort tsked, "Poor chap is probably rolling over in his grave." Seeing Harry still confused, he sighed. "The boy from fourth year I slew?"

"...Cedric?" Harry gapped. "I'm not-he wasn't...Why are you even talking to me about that?!"

"You have a point there," Voldemort conceded, going back to his book. "Your loss of lovers is no concern of mine."

Harry shook his head in disbelief, he stood and left the compartment.


"Harry!" A happy cheer went through his light peers when he opened their compartment.

"What can we help you with?!" An excited girl asked, fluttering her lashes his way.

"Err..." Harry looked around, noticing it was full of the chatty, girly gossiping girls he despised so much.

"I was just...looking for a room that wasn't so...full..." He said cautiously.

A coy smile graced the head girl's face. "Sorry, all full here. But!" She stood and happily stepped closer, "I know where we can go..."

Fear flooded though Harry; he couldn't! He had to escape from this hell unscathed! "I was looking for my mates Hermione and Ron, actually. Sorry, we'll talk another time, I promise!" And he ran out and shut the door behind him. Even though it wasn't such a nice thing, Harry briefly wished for her death today. That wasn't a promise he ever intended to keep.

"Ah!" Harry exclaimed, seeing his two mates ahead of him. He suddenly came to a dead stop as noticed the mood on their faces. Hermione was looking down and up at Ron shyly. Ron was holding her hand tenderly and had a very serious look on his face. He couldn't intrude on those two right now, not when they were finally revealing their feelings to each other. Harry turned around and quickly sprinted back towards his old compartment and paused at the door, not wanting to go back and face Voldemort, but not having anywhere else to go. He didn't want to chance opening anymore doors with girls who wore their make up so heavy they looked remarkably like clowns inside, so he made his choice and turned the knob.

Voldemort looked up from his book and gave him an amused stare. "If you were someone who actually mattered, I'd welcome back you back."

Giving his customary glare, Harry once again took his seat in silence.


'NEWTs...' Harry bolted upright as if someone held a blade to his throat, earning him a wary glance from the room's other occupant.

Newts; How could he have forgotten? All his preparations lately had been for this big upcoming battle, if he survived somehow he'd have to take his Newts in 6 days! Harry felt tears come to his eyes and blinked them away. Maybe if the light lost he'd be taken prisoner or killed asap and then he wouldn't have to take them? Maybe he'd escape and go AWOL and Voldemort would take over Hogwarts...It felt weird for Harry to hope the dark side won. 'Get a grip!' He shook his head. 'The Newts can't be that bad!' He tried to convince himself to no avail. Giving up, he sighed. He wouldn't be able to win regardless of the battle's outcome.

Worrying, Harry began to tap his foot, trying to remember all of those boring things that Snape said in class. He tried thinking of everything he probably wasn't taught due to the constant change of DADA teachers. The thinking and worrying caused him to start pace the medium sized compartment.

Ten minutes later, Voldemort cracked.

"Sit down or do something useful!" The Dark Lord hissed out.

Harry froze, becoming aware of reality once more.

"I don't have to listen to you!" The Gryffindor yelled in defiance. "If you don't like it then you can change compartments," he added smugly.

A glower and a twitch later, Harry was tied up on the ground, courtesy of Lord Voldemort.

"There." It was his turn to be smug. "Problem solved." And the Dark Lord sat back, looking over his work approvingly.

"Damn it! Let me out! You can't do this to me; you're breaking-"

"My word? I only promised no blood or body parts would be left on the train." Voldemort corrected with a smirk on his face. "Where's your Gryffindor luck now, boy?" He taunted Harry, who began to struggle in his bonds.

"Okay, whatever. You obviously are the victor in this, so release me now. I'll behave." Harry said desperately.

"Let me think about it..." Voldemort tapped his chin in thought, eyes roaming over Harry. "No."

"You can't leave me all tied up; what if someone walks in? They'll get the wrong idea!" Harry protested.

"And what would that be now?" Voldemort questioned, advancing on his prey.

"Hey-Hey now! Stop joking around like that!" Whimpered Harry. "It's not funny!"

"Potter, you of all people should know I'm a Dark Lord, not a comedian. I do nothing for laughs."

"Remember that vow we made? The one not to kill anyone?" Harry pleaded; despair thick in his voice, scared of the look in Voldemort's eyes.

With a grin that chilled Harry to his bones he spoke, "Again, Potter; who said anything about killing?"

Shuddering Harry's mind thought of all the possibilities this could mean as a gloating Dark Lord came closer to him and drew a finger down his soft cheek. Eyes widening, Harry's mind settled on what taboo would be his fate.

"Eight hours is an awfully long time to just sit here, you know?"

Harry's eyes met Voldemort's, pleading silently for him to stop and not do this. How could he want to do...that, on a train, with his arch nemesis and only 8 hours before they fought to the death?! It was outrageous! Surely it was only a scare tactic?! But apparently, that's exactly what Voldemort had in mind. He grabbed the restrained boy up and forced him against the wall. Then, he kissed him.

In shock, for there could be no other reason behind it, Harry's lips shock. But whatever reason he chose to believe mattered not to Voldemort, who entered his tongue in Harry's mouth. The boy tasted of innocence. Voldemort thought he would taste better in desperation and blood. 'But we'll see how things work out,' he mused to himself. For the Dark Lord Voldemort was many things, but a rapist wasn't one of them. Although, he didn't mind committing the heinous crime on the delicious boy in front of him.

Harry, like any sane person would do when kissed unexpectedly, jerked back. However, he didn't get too far, considering the ropes Voldemort had previously used on him were strong and his back was to the wall.

"I shouldn't have sat in here," Harry said shakily.

"And miss this?" Voldemort asked as his licked Harry's neck, his hands moving to the boy's shirt, and started to undo its buttons.

Biting down on his bottom lip, Harry tried not to moan as a hand brushed by his nipples roughly. Throwing his head back, he banged it against the wall as fingers found his nipple and tweaked. Voldemort started biting harder, making marks on Harry's neck, who was trying not to moan anymore...he was...preventing his pleasure from being known to the other.

Yes, it had nothing to do with God knows who sitting in the next compartment. People who could possibly hear him, a sarcastic voice in his mind replied, sounding an awful lot like a certain Dark Lord. Voldemort stopped branding his neck and glanced at his face, where Harry's bottom lip was bleeding profusely. He leant down and circled his ear with his tongue, huskily whispering to him, "Still trying to convince yourself that you don't like this?"

Voldemort couldn't have been waiting for a verbal reply since he made Harry arch and groan in such need as his fingers began moving lower and lower. Tongues met again, Harry's in desperate need for more contact. Voldemort licked the blood from Harry's lip, sucking on it he took delight of how much he was undoing the light's Savior.

'Shouldn't they have trained him against this?' Voldemort thought watching the boy whimper. Slowly he took off Harry's pants, daring the boy to fight against him and stop this.

Harry was breathing heavily at this point, and couldn't, wouldn't stop Voldemort now. Lust was coursing though his blood, poisoning any thoughts of escape which he should've been having.

Voldemort's dare went unanswered and he fondled the Savior's cock, hard as a rock.

"Do you want me to continue?" Asked Voldemort, who wanted the boy to admit his desire. It took Harry awhile to even realize he was spoken to and a bit longer to process the question. He turned his eyes to Voldemort and, even though he was already flushed, clearly blushed as he figured out he was suppose to answer him. It would be impossible to say that he didn't. Defiant to the end, Harry remained quiet, refusing to beg for it.

"Say you want me," Voldemort demanded as his hand touched Harry's erection ever so lightly.

Harry, in a show of bravado, choose to say naught and simply looked at him. Making a dare of his own, his eyes stared at Voldemort's directly.

"Make me." Was the simple statement Harry uttered.

Voldemort was no longer amused. It was seem he would have to teach his Gryffindor a lesson of obedience. Harry would listen to him; Voldemort owned him. 'Mine to kill; Mine to fuck. He's mine. His whole life has been about me. Only me.'

Voldemort dragged his nails sharply down Harry's chest and was about to choke the boy when he realized how Gryffindors didn't play nice when choked. Damn lions. If Harry screamed too loud it'd cause an up stir and a halt in their activities. So instead of choking him Voldemort ripped off the boy's boxers and roughly shoved three fingers up Harry's ass. 'Well, I'm preparing him at least,' he mused to himself.

Harry seemed to be unsurprised at the idea of Voldemort giving him pain, after all he had a lifetime -short may it be- of expecting it from this man and stayed relatively quiet. The Dark Lord was a bit disturbed by the boy's lack of fervor response. 'Shouldn't he protest a little? Well, I guess hero complex and masochism goes together. Just means more fun for me then.'

Voldemort searched roughly for Harry's prostate, deeming it found when the boy's arms came wrapped around him and pulled him closer to himself, bucking wildly. Harry either chose to stop or couldn't contain his pleasure, for he started releasing the sweetest noises the Dark Lord ever heard and finally begged for more. Expertly, he played with the boy's prostate, satisfaction filling him as the boy's imploring flooded through him. He'd won yet again.

'Seems like dignity and absolute hatred dissolves with a good wanking. Perhaps, he always just needed one? Damn, could have saved a lot of time if I've done this from the beginning...' The Dark Lord felt as though this was the twisted moral of their story.

He withdrew his fingers and Harry complained.

"No, please don't stop," he pleaded and grinded against him.

'...Could I make him my pet?' Voldemort wondered. 'Under the guise of kidnapping, it should work.'

Now, with clothes all strewn all over the compartment and a hot and wanton Harry in front of him, Voldemort decided this was the perfect solution for a long train ride.

Just as the Dark Lord was about to take things further with his Gryffindor, loud knocking, banging on the compartment door ruined it. Mentally, he recalled all the curses, hexes and dark rituals he ever learned and debated which one would be most appropriate. Getting up he opened the door slightly, only enough to poke his head and wand out, concealing his and Potter's present state.

"Gibbon." He snapped out, recognizing the other as a newer follower of his. "Make it quick, I'm busy." The other started to stammering explanations, Voldemort's didn't pay too much care to his low rank follower. Knowing if it was something actually important Lucius or Bella would be here. His mind drifted, wondering if Potter was pulling his clothes on, ready to call this all a mistake and flee. Plans for the slow torture of Gibbon began.

A strange sensation caused him to flinch back and his eyes flew down. It was Potter. On his knees, with the most devilish look he ever saw. The look was even more seductive when he knew what was going to happen. The Boy Who Lived was seconds away from tasting the most intimate part of him. While he was in front of his follower. Okay, so maybe Gibbon's vision was blocked by the half shut door and couldn't see, but he was still right in front of him. Where did this playful nymph come from, he wondered.

"Bastard," he hissed out in snake tongue quiet as he could as the boy's mouth fell open and drew him in. Voldemort wanted to watch, he needed watch it. He wanted to grab the boy's head a force him to suck him properly. In front of his follower he couldn't do either of them. "Evil."

Harry's eyes were closed as he gave his full concentration to the task at hand, but fluttered open when he heard the big Dark Lord call him evil. He laughed, sending vibrations down Voldemort's cock. A hand found its way into his hair and forced him to take even more down his throat. Not use to such activities Harry gagged, and stopped sucking. In retaliation he grazed his teeth lightly across Voldemort's length, with just a hint of tongue to soothe.

Fingers curled in his hair, and the hand shook and gripped tighter. 'Does that feel good? Does the feared Dark Lord like a bit of pain?' He thought curiously, keeping in mind the reactions. 'Guess I have my answer on how it'd taste.' Harry thought to himself, 'Salty... Bitter, but not...' Trying to identifying the exact flavor as he pulled off, he gave the head a particularly long lick, like he was eating ice cream. He started to suck again, alternating between lapping, humming and sucking as he tried to fit all of him down his throat.

What the boy lacked in experience he made up for in enthusiasm, that hot wet mouth of his seemed to have some natural talent as the tongue fluttered across his slit. Voldemort moved his hips slightly back and forth, trying not to choke the boy or alert his company to his current activity.

He heard rumors of girls who could really swallow from the guys in a bragging tone, so Harry tried to swallow Voldemort's length. He managed to get most of it down before his throat constricted and he gagged. He tried again to relax and swallow all of him again. It took a few tries, but soon Voldemort was feeling the squeezing of his throat swallowing.

Damn. The kid was very eager. That was it, Voldemort wanted nothing more than to thrust deep inside that tight wet mouth and lose himself. He blinked at Gibbon who was still prattling on and growled out, "Talk to Lucius." Then slammed the door. Whatever it was his right hand man could handle it. Right now he had more important and merrier activities to engage in.

Transfixed he watched as his shaft slid between those lips. Meeting tempting green eyes glowing up at him, he watched as cheeks hollowed, sucking. He moved his hips faster, erratically, loving the sloppy sucking noise he heard, going deeper and deeper every time. Groaning, he grabbed at silky dark hair that was a similar shade to his own.

Those eyes... those red hungry eyes took in everything. They made him feel wanton and out of control. He loved those ruby eyes watching him, no one else had eyes that shade. Harry craved those eyes on him, fully enjoying such a lewd act he was performing. He felt dirty and wicked doing this kind of stuff with such a man, but the wrongness of it all strengthened the flames of desire. One of his hands removed itself from Voldemort's hips and he began to stroke himself.

He saw it. Of course he seen it, Potter was jerking off whilst sucking him. "Stop." Groaned out Voldemort without too much conviction. If he didn't get Harry to stop they'd both end up coming much too soon. The boy just cocked an eyebrow at him and continued on, unwilling to stop.

A maelstrom of feelings flooded him. He was irritated at the boy's lack of obedience, which also made him interesting, yet smug at the boy's enjoyment. Voldemort was being fully appreciated, no, worshipped. Still, they were both way too close to coming and if he had any say in it, which he did, he was going to be buried deep inside that body when he came. To give his command more force he yanked hard on the boy's hair.

Harry stopped immediately and emitted a hiss of pain, then a sweet whimper, hating to be deprived of his new favorite toy. Pulling him up to his feet, Voldemort just stared at the Gryffindor for second. His face was flushed, hair tussled, eyes darkened in need, delicious lips were now swollen and Harry simply looked like a debauched fallen angel. 'Is this what he's like when he gives into his baser instincts?' The Dark Lord marveled.

"Why are we stopping?" A husky, rasping voice questioned. Harry's mouth opened again to say more when Voldemort grabbed him and kissed him hard enough to hurt, lips were caught, then bitten and they both tasted copper.

"Not stopping." Declared a confident voice whose tongue was circling around his ear and lightly nipping it.

"No?" Harry purred out.

"No." He affirmed and began to knead his ass.

No. They weren't stopping. Harry smirked at himself mentally, 'At least if I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it all. If I'm going to sully myself and regret this tomorrow at least I won't have anything to wonder about.' What difference could it make to anyone if he just made out with the Dark Lord and stopped short of sex? It was a horrible transgression regardless of where he stopped. Pulled and placed on the seating, a wave of anticipation sent Harry's body aflutter. He was more than ready for this.

Becoming pliable, he allowed the older and more experienced Voldemort to position him. Harry bit his lip and averted his eyes shyly; it just felt strange and awkward. His legs were spread off to the side and his parts were fully exposed. He felt like livestock at an auction, being judged and inspected for flaws. Yet, it didn't feel so callous or alienating, on the contrary, this casual act of carnal felt oddly intimate... 'Does it always feel this way? Is the act of sex always so...' He decided he'd ask someone later.

Voldemort became aware immediately that his assessing of him was discomforting the lad. Realizing that a nervous virgin wouldn't welcome or be accustomed to a lover's appraisal he moved back into familiar territory.

Voldemort's touches were back and with it Harry's nerves disappated. As hands began roaming his body he gave himself up to the heat of it all. The next thing he was cognizant of was a burning, painful splitting sensation. His hands gripped the seating and he tried to focus on his breathing. It hurt, but it would get better...right?

Upon penetrating Harry the older man gained some new scratches, some a bit deep, but the Dark Lord was willing to dismiss the marks. After all it was for a worthy cause, and they weren't that bothersome. Feeling the body under him tense, he muttered some words of comfort and tried to distract the boy from the pain, and grunted at their conjoined bodies. Potter was tight, very tight. It probably was his first time or so, for the light didn't support sex before marriage, crazy bastards that they were.

It felt bad, but better and almost good in a way. Harry relished Voldemort's enjoyment. To have the Dark Lord so out of it, he felt a real power rush. Relaxing, it was beginning to feel good, irresistible. Need consumed him, and devoured all thoughts.

Teeth and tongues clashed, trying to siphon more pleasure out of each other. Bodies entwined going faster and faster, harder and rougher than before. Voldemort was giving it his all, wanting to make sure Harry would feel it tomorrow when he's walking around all sainted and golden. Sounds of biting, licking, sucking, and the utterances of pleading demands filled the air as they aimed for that point where all their earthly desires were temporary fulfilled.

Harry threw his head back as Voldemort's hand enclosed around his dick, the sensations overwhelmed him completely. He didn't last very long; he was unused to these new burning feelings. But, as Harry was in post orgasmic bliss, Voldemort kept pounding into him. The Dark Lord got his own turn when he made Harry tighten up, and came inside him with a low hiss of completion. Pulling out of Harry, Voldemort smirked, amused at the thought of Potter fighting him with a limp and various marks all over him from this.

Voldemort was making to move away when Harry lightly pulled him down and shyly kissed him, as if to thank him or say we'll do this again soon; he wasn't too sure. He swelled up with joy. He had tainted Harry; life was good. And hey what did you know? Being evil did pay off!

The two redressed, Harry shifting uncomfortable for he was unused to the swishy feeling of cum in his ass. The bell chose that moment to ring, signifying that they had arrived. Okay, so maybe Dark Lords liked to embellish time when they were bored and unsexed.

"Nine hours?" Said Harry in disbelief. "You said nine hours...It's been, like, three or so..."

"Close enough. And," Voldemort grinned devilishly, "You shouldn't believe what people say when they're known to be after your life."

"...You were right about me wanting you..." Harry said as quietly as possible and walked briskly towards the exit.

...Only to join in the crowd outside who was mumbling and complaining. The first thing he heard was Dumbledore saying, "Well I guess we'll have to reschedule." It was raining.

More than raining, it was pouring blood and sharp shards of metallic hail and acid rain, a certain Weasley claimed to toughen the story up. Okay, so it was hurricane conditions, but still! Who ever heard of canceling the final battle because of the weather?

Ron and Hermione ran up to him, asking how it was to be stuck with you-know-who in such a small space for so long. They had heard the rumor circulating and took it as fact at once.

"With your bad luck, it was entirely plausible." Hermione said, telling Harry of the rumor.

Ron asked, "How do you feel?"

"Well," Harry started; shifting his robe make sure all the marks were covered. "It felt like nine hours." He managed to say with a straight face.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a confused look with each other, thinking he just meant that it felt like a long time. Ron suddenly noticed a red spot on his neck. "Hey mate, what's that?" Ron questioned, pointed towards a red mark on Harry's neck.

"This? Oh, it's a damn bug bite. Itches real bad." And Hermione and Ron accepted the lie at face value. After all Harry was their friend and the light's savior. He wouldn't lie.

Practically everyone apparated away since the battle was cancelled. Harry started, "We didn't do that earlier because...?"

"There could have been traps set up." Hermione gave a disapproving frown. "Honestly, Harry! Try to think before speaking."

"There could have been bloody traps on the train!" He retaliated.

"...Harry stop being so hard!" Said a frustrated Granger.

"I swear Hermione," Harry smirked, "I'm not hard at all."

An: Wheoo~ That was my first smex scene, and oneshot. Hurray for me! And jeez this plot bunny was sitting on my hard drive for about a year now. x.x Finally I finished polishing it up and got it safe for human consumption with the help of my awesome beta who I believe hates me now my Herd and Itoko, Yaoicookie. Also mad props on the content checking and proofing she and Alakata did. (Also small note, while Itoko beta-ed the original(!) version of this a good majority has been added on, due to her... advising demands.)

Hope you enjoyed it. Please review after you manage to come down from your high, or wake up from the blood loss, :P jk. I accept reviews under smut influences happily =D~

Titled for fulfilling my fantasy for HPLV trainlest (train+molesting) and Harry's for not wanting to die a virgin. x'D Boys worry about the silliest things, no?

Small note: Possible connected sequel shot(s) in the nearby (near long might be more appropriate) future.