Happy birthday, Heidi! This little Harry Pottery/Draco Malfoy scene was inspired by one of my favorite tweets ever:
tuesdaymidnight [at]otta_ff lol I'm still confused in HBP when Draco attacks Harry on the train and they don't end up naked.
This takes place during the Half Blood Prince on the Hogwarts Exrpess after Harry is invited to Professor Slughorn's compartment. In the book it ends with Draco breaking Harry's nose. As you'll see, I borrowed some specific language from J.K. Rowling, but I gave it a somewhat different outcome. I hope you enjoy! Love you, bb!
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.
What Happened on the Hogwarts Express
Harry crouched on the luggage rack above the group of Slytherins below, hidden by his invisibility cloak. He had followed Blaise Zabini into the compartment of the Hogwarts Express after they had finally been released from the company of Professor Slughorn. Ron and Hermione may have been tired of Harry's persistent questioning of Malfoy's activities, but Harry wasn't going to let this opportunity pass him by. He was determined to learn what he could.
He had been a little obsessed, truth be told. Even since they had seen Malfoy in Borgin and Burkes and watched Borgin's deference towards the boy, a deference bordering on fear, Harry had been convinced Malfoy's activities were even more nefarious than usual. Remembering the way he had recoiled from Madam Malkin when she touched his arm, the pieces had fallen into place: Malfoy was already a Death Eater. What Voldemort could want with a sixteen year old git like Malfoy remained a mystery, but it was one he would unravel.
Harry watched as Malfoy lay with his head in Pansy Parkinson's lap. Her fingers gently combed through the blonde boy's hair. Harry's gaze was transfixed as the silken strands slipped through her fingers. He barely registered the conversation going on below, so taken was he with the sight of Pansy's hands weaving through Malfoy's hair, her fingernails gently scraping his scalp. Malfoy's face was relaxed in pleasure and Harry was mesmerized by the sight. Without the sneer he so often sported, Malfoy was quite handsome. Beautiful, really.
Harry had never noticed how full Malfoy's lips were, plump and rosy with a delicious curve to the upper lip, like a cupid's bow. His skin was pale and clear and instead of the sharp angles and pointed features Harry was used to seeing when regarding his rival, he instead noticed the gentle sloping angle of his jaw, the fine arch of his eyebrows, the delicate bone structure of his face. He looked so young—almost innocent—and with that silver blonde hair being brushed away from his smooth forehead, his expression was almost… angelic.
Soon, under his watchful eyes, the face he was so absorbed by was transformed back into that old familiar sneer as Malfoy said, "Well, who cares what he's interested in? What is he, when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher." Harry's eyes were drawn back to his mouth as those full rosy lips opened into a wide yawn. Harry swallowed as Malfoy's pink tongue peeked out to wet his lips before he continued.. "I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year, what's it matter to me if some fat old has-been likes me or not?"
Harry shook himself out of his daze, concentrating on the conversation. He was slightly shaken. The image he had held of Malfoy for so long had been irreversibly altered in just those few moments. He wondered which of the pictures was the true Draco Malfoy: the sneering Death Eater, or the beautiful angelic boy? He listened intently as Malfoy bragged about a service he had been asked to perform for Voldemort. The others were clearly impressed and quite awestruck. Harry's heart was beating rapidly. He wasn't sure if it was because he had concrete proof to bring back to the others or if it was from fear for Malfoy's future. Suddenly, it seemed extremely wrong for Malfoy to be ensnared in Voldemort's evil plans. They weren't even of age and already the burdens being placed on them both were so heavy. He felt a kinship with Malfoy that was more than a little disturbing.
They were approaching Hogwarts and the students began to gather their things. Harry was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Goyle reaching for his trunk. Harry let out an involuntary gasp of pain when the trunk connected with his head as Goyle swung it down. Malfoy looked up at the luggage rack frowning. Harry held his breath, carefully readying his wand, hoping he hadn't been discovered. To his relief, Malfoy must have decided he had imagined the sound. He turned his attention back to his belongings.
Once again Harry eyes were drawn to the Slytherin. He was dressed in black from head to toe and made quite an imposing figure. Harry wondered when he had grown so tall. He decided his earlier impression of an innocent boy must have been some sort of queer fancy, because looking at Malfoy now, there was no sign of the boy at all. He was definitely a man, and although he was thin, his shoulders were broad and he was well built. Harry could see the musculature of his chest underneath his silk shirt. His waist tapered to slim hips, followed by long lean legs. Harry admired the curve of his arse as he bent over to retrieve his robes from his trunk.
Harry was breathing heavily and his body was humming with excitement. He tried to tell himself it was the rush of adrenaline from almost being caught, but he knew that wasn't the true cause. The real reason was the blonde in the train car below him. Harry felt himself growing hard as he stared at Malfoy. His fingers itched to run themselves over the hard planes of his chest. He could almost feel the silk as he imagined his fingers trailing over Malfoy's nipples beneath the thin fabric, feeling them harden under his touch. He imagined his hands buried in that silky hair as Malfoy's rosy lips wrapped themselves around his aching cock.
Merlin, he was incredibly aroused. By Draco Malfoy, of all people.
The rocking motion of the train contributed to the wild fantasy of his cock thrusting in and out of Malfoy's beautiful mouth, and he could barely contain himself as he reached down to palm his erection through his jeans. He was impatient for the train to arrive so he could find somewhere private to toss one off. He would do it right there, huddled in the luggage rack, if he thought that he could stay quiet enough. It was too risky to cast a silencing charm.
Just then the train slowed to a jerky crawl and he watched Malfoy fasten a new traveling cloak round his neck. The material swirled elegantly around his long legs. With a final lurch, the train came to a halt. The others disembarked, all except Pansy who waited at the door.
"You go on," Malfoy told Pansy. "I just want to check something."
Pansy nodded and left and now Harry and Malfoy were alone in the train car. Malfoy closed the blinds on the compartment door, then bent down over his trunk again. Harry's fantasies ran wild as he stared at Malfoy, bent over with his arse presented so nicely to Harry's view. He wanted to pull the trousers down around his ankles and run his hands over those firm delectable cheeks. He wanted to lick his skin and feel him clench around his fingers. He wanted to thrust his cock deep into that gorgeous arse, again and again. Harry was impatient for Malfoy to finish whatever it was he was doing. He ached to unfasten his trousers and release his hardened cock. He was sure all he'd need were a few good tugs and he'd be coming faster than a third year, and harder than he ever had before.
Without warning, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry, who was instantly paralyzed. As though in slow motion, he toppled out of the luggage rack and fell, with an agonizing, floor-shaking crash, at Malfoy's feet, the Invisibility Cloak trapped beneath him. He couldn't move a muscle; he could only gaze up at Malfoy, who smiled broadly.
"I thought so," Malfoy said jubilantly. "I heard Goyle's trunk hit you. And I thought I saw something white flash through the air after Zabini came back. …"
His eyes lingered for a moment upon Harry's trainers.
"You didn't hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I've got you here …"
He made as if to kick Harry's face, but he stopped mid motion, a look of surprise replacing the customary sneer. For as his eyes traveled disdainfully over the spying Gryffindor, they landed upon the erection straining in those denim Muggle trousers Potter was so fond of wearing. Malfoy's eyes snapped to his face and a shot of heat pulsed through him when he saw the naked hunger in Potter's eyes. Merlin. Potter was rock hard, for him.
The thought of Harry spying on him, watching him, becoming aroused by watching him excited Draco more than he ever thought possible. His own cock reacted immediately, growing hard beneath his robes. His mind raced and he felt as though his entire body was on fire as a surge of desire overtook him.
His eyes raked across the prone boy beneath him, taking in every detail—the tight grey t-shirt that covered Potter's chest beneath the unzipped jumper, the small strip of skin near the waistband of his trousers where his shirt had ridden up. He could see the trail of dark hair disappearing beneath the fabric and his fingers twitched as if they wished to follow it down into his pants. Potter was quite fit and he wondered how he had never noticed before, especially with all the time he spent thinking about the other boy. He was quite fit, indeed.
He brought his eyes back up to Potter's face and was struck by how handsome the boy was, something else he had never noticed before. His heart hammered in his chest as he took in the slightly parted lips, the strong jaw and cheekbones, the tousled black hair which always looked as if he had just crawled out of bed. That was a dangerous thought to be having, for now all Draco could imagine was what Potter would look like in his bed, hard and naked, completely at his mercy.
Draco had meant to punish Potter, but now it was all he could do to stop himself from giving in to his urges to touch him everywhere.
He could do it too, and Potter would be helpless to stop him. He could explore every inch of The Boy Who Lived, the boy who was now completely under his power. He could unfasten those trousers and rub his palm over that hard cock, running his thumb across the slick head. He could flip him over and rub his own erection between the crevice of his arse. He could slide a finger deep into Potter's body and tease him from the inside. He could replace his finger with his cock and he could fuck Harry Potter, fuck The Chosen One, fuck him hard and deep, or fast, or slow, or any way at all he chose. He could come inside Potter's tight arsehole and watch his release drip slowly out of his body and down his muscular immobile thighs.
His breaths became shallower as he imagined all the ways he could pleasure himself. His hand at some point had reached for his cock and was rubbing it through the fabric of his robes. He returned his scrutiny to Potter's face and was once again struck by the raw hunger in those amazing green eyes, eyes that had grown dark with desire as Draco lustful gaze had traveled over his body.
He somehow knew that Potter wanted him to touch him, wanted to fuck him and be fucked by him, that Potter was turned on by being under his power too, turned on by his obvious growing arousal. Draco's hands shook slightly with the knowledge that if he gave in to his desires, not only could Potter not stop him, but Potter would not stop him either, even if he were able.
Draco pulled off his cloak and robes and unfastened his trousers, his grey eyes locked with Potter's intense green ones. He freed his straining erection from his pants. His hand moved in a long firm stroke and he shuddered, already desperate to come. A low moan left his lips as his hand glided over his slick head, his slit dripping with pre-cum.
He remembered the small gasp Potter had given when Goyle's luggage had hit him in the head and wondered what kind of noises the boy wonder would make when he was impaled on Draco's cock. Probably loud ones, and uninhibited ones. Gryffindors could be such prudes, but Draco suspected that Potter would be an amazing fuck. He always did everything with such bloody enthusiasm.
Now with the image of Potter riding his cock, noises of pleasure pouring from those perfect lips, Draco's hand picked up speed, stroking rhythmically, small grunts and gasps escaping his mouth. His eyes closed and his head tilted back as he sought to prolong his release. His hips were rocking and he spread his legs wider so he could tug his balls with his other hand. He imagined it was Potter's hand reaching between his legs, Potter's tongue, licking up his length, Potter's arse, clenched around his cock… Draco felt the tingling down his spine and the clenching in his stomach as his orgasm approached. He opened his eyes to that intense green stare again, Potter's body a perfect statue, but his gaze so hungry and full of desire. With just a few more strokes he was coming hard, his seed shooting from his cock in thick white spurts. He tried to keep his eyes open, but the force of his release was too strong and his head tilted back while he cried out in exquisite pleasure. This surely must be the most incredible orgasm he had ever experienced.
He was panting, and his legs felt like rubber. He stroked his sensitive cock with several strong pulls, milking a few more drops of cum. As he returned to awareness, he stared down at Potter and was completely transfixed by the sight. His cum had splashed across Potter's chest, and onto his glasses. There was even some in his messy black hair. But most arousing of all was the milky white stripe painted on Potter's face, across his cheek, over his lips, and down his chin. A thick drop hovered on the edge of that amazing jaw and started to slowly drip down his neck. Another drop was sliding between his slightly parted lips. Draco felt his cock stirring again at the erotic sight.
He dropped to his knees next to the prone boy and reached out one long elegant finger, gathering up the cum from Potter's cheek before swiping it across his perfect lips. Next he dipped the finger into Potter's mouth and smeared his seed over his tongue. He could feel Potter's blazing eyes on him as he repeated the action with the cum from his chin.
When he found himself staring at Potter's mouth, painted with his own seed, he was overtaken by an almost uncontrollable urge to cover it with his own, to slip his tongue between those parted lips. He drew back in alarm. What in Salazar's name was he doing? Wanking over Harry Potter? And not just any wank, but probably the most bloody amazing wank of his life. Wanting to kiss Harry Potter? He was shaken to the core as reality started crashing down around him. Merlin, he must be completely mad.
Draco stood up quickly and tucked his still half hard dick into his pants, fastening up his trousers. He retrieved his robes and cloak, gathering his things as he tried to calm his growing panic. He couldn't look at Potter, petrified and still, spattered with his cum. He took out his wand and cast a cleaning spell, removing the evidence of his release. Then he pulled out the invisibility cloak from beneath Potter's body, avoiding his hungry gaze, and draped it over his immobile form before hurrying from the compartment. He absolutely refused to look Harry in the eyes again.
For if he did, he knew he'd reverse the spell and beg Potter to kiss him, to touch him, to suck him. To fuck him. And he had a sick feeling he was well and truly fucked already.
AN: As always, thank you to my awesome beta, OnTheTurningAway.
You can read the rest of tuesdaymidnight's birthday fics on the birthday blog here: http:/happybirthdaytuesday(dot)blogspot(dot)com/