Chapter Text
Harrie hid beneath her invisibility cloak, heart hammering in her chest.
The Slytherin carriage was darker than the rest of the train and smelled of way too much cologne. She didn't think it was possible to bottle the smell entitlement, yet there it was lingering in the air as she waited. Someone had also spilled something sticky on the floor—her knee was pressed into it as she crouched.
She hadn’t planned to eavesdrop when she boarded the train to Hogwarts, but Draco Malfoy had been acting strange when she spotted him in Knockturn Alley earlier. He was twitchy and kept looking over his shoulder, then he went into some sketchy store. Harrie knew his father was a Death Eater. It wasn’t much of a stretch to assume the great Pureblood Lucius Malfoy passed the family hobby along to his cunt of a son.
So, here she was—jammed into the narrow corner of the Slytherin compartment, breath shallow, shoulders tense, trying not to make a sound as Draco sat with his fucking sycophants. It was ridiculous how casual they all looked—Pansy flipping her hair like she was auditioning for a shampoo commercial, Blaise pretending he was above everyone but still somehow leaning in to hear whatever Draco was saying. Crabbe and Goyle were present too, in the same sense that large furniture was present in a room. And Theo Nott sat in the bench right next to them, clearly eavesdropping like a creep.
I mean...I'm eavesdropping too but this is different. It's purely for investigative purposes. Harrie thought to herself.
“I'm just saying, it’s going to be different this year.” Draco’s voice drawled, ominous as ever. Like he knew something the rest of them didn’t. Which, honestly, he probably did.
"Please. Hogwarts is always boring." Blaise scoffed in amusement. “Same castle. Same homework. Same Gryffindor tantrums.”
Pansy snorted. “The only thing that will change this year is Quidditch now that Potter is the captain...Merlin knows, she'll fuck that up."
Harrie flipped her off beneath the cloak.
“I’m serious,” Draco continued, quieter now. The others leaned in, sensing the shift. “It’s already started. My father says—”
He dropped his voice lower and damn it, Harrie couldn't hear at all now. They all leaned in closer, hanging off of Malfoy's every word.
She watched as he shifted in his seat, his right hand was moving toward his left sleeve, intend on tugging up the fabric to show his forearm. Her pulse spiked.
No fucking way.
Before she could lean closer to see, the train gave a sudden lurch. Harrie’s balance wobbled, and her sticky knee slid against the floor with a faint shlup sound.
Malfoy’s head snapped up, his hand retreating from his sleeve. “What was that?”
Harrie froze, every muscle tensed like she was auditioning to be a statue.
“It’s a train.” Blaise said with an exaggerated eye roll. “Things move. Now go on, show us."
“No, I heard something.” He stood, scanning the compartment with narrowed eyes.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Crabbe chose this moment to sneeze explosively without covering his mouth, sending Pansy shrieking and Blaise groaning in disgust. Draco’s suspicion faltered just enough for Harrie to press herself flatter against the wall. Still, his eyes swept over the space she occupied like he could feel her there.
For a horrible moment, Harrie thought he could see her somehow.
He scoffed after a moment. “Probably just the train rats. It’s not like the Gryffindors know how to clean.”
He sat back down and Harrie finally stopped holding her breath.
The conversation shifted after that. Blaise started talking about some ridiculous party he’d been to, Pansy began recounting a summer fling she'd allegedly had with a Durmstrang student (which was obviously bullshit), and Draco retreated back into his brooding silence.
Harrie stayed perfectly still, though her heart still thumped loudly in her ears.
When the train finally pulled into the station, she waited patiently as each student grabbed their belongings and filed off one at a time. Ron and Hermione were probably pissed and wondering where she snuck off too. But she would meet with them shortly on the carriages with a clever excuse to explain away her long absence...it was a nap. She would just tell them she was napping in another compartment.
Her legs were numb, her back ached, and she was sure there was a cobweb in her hair...Merlin, what was taking so long for everyone to get the fuck off!?
Eventually, everyone was gone but Draco. He didn’t make any effort to leave. In fact, he sat back, lounging like he had all the time in the world.
After a few minutes, when the train had to be completely empty, he stood, straightened his cuffs, and smoothed the front of his outfit.
“I know you’re there, Potter."
Harrie’s breath caught in her throat.
“I smelled your cheap perfume the second I got closer to you.”
Cheap?! It's 82 galleons a bottle!
Harrie’s jaw clenched. She stayed perfectly still. Maybe if she didn’t move, he’d think he imagined it. Maybe—
“Don’t insult both of us by pretending you’re not there!" He snapped, lunging forward.
The cloak was yanked off of her head with a hard pull. Harrie scrambled up from her spot, her hair a mess of static waves from the fabric rubbing against it. She brushed it back with her hands, meeting Draco's glare.
“Honestly, are you completely incapable of minding your own business that you'd resort to hiding in the corner for four hours?” He sneered.
“Oh, I'm sorry, did you want privacy for your little Death Eater meeting?” She shot back, her voice cracking slightly after not being used in so long. "I saw you slinking around Knockturn Alley this morning, why don't you tell me about that."
His expression flickered—just for a second—before sliding back into that familiar smug mask. “I don’t know what you're talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.” Harrie’s voice dripped sarcasm. “You were just buying a mountain of hair gel from Borgin and Burkes."
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “I wouldn't go spreading rumors if I were you, Potter."
"Scared people will believe me?" She smirked. "Why don't you show me what's under sleeve then, huh? Prove me wrong."
He stepped closer to her, the movement dangerous, like a predator closing in. His eyes darkened, all trace of smug arrogance draining into something colder—something she wasn’t entirely sure she recognized. She barely had time to suck in a breath before her back hit the wall behind her with a quiet thud, and he caged her in, one arm braced on either side of her head. His minty breath ghosted across her lips as he leaned in.
"You have no idea what you’re talking about. So do us both a favor and shut your fucking mouth."
Harrie fought the urge to flinch. She wasn't going to let him intimidate her. "I think I have a pretty good idea, actually...you, Daddy’s little pawn, off running errands for Voldemort—”
“Shut up!" He shouted.
“Aww, did I hit a nerve?" She goaded. "Merlin, you're emotional."
For a second, they just stood there, glaring at each other like a pair of territorial cats.
Then Draco’s temper snapped. He yanked his wand free and pointed it under her chin, the tip digging painfully into her bone.
"What are you gonna do, Malfoy, hex me?"
“Don’t tempt me.”
"Do it, I fucking dare you!" She sneered.
"I will."
"Good."
"I'm going to do it."
"I'm waiting!" Harrie shouted, her voice echoing off the compartment walls.
His hand trembled—just a little. But it was enough.
Harrie moved fast, twisting his wrist away from her face and shoving him backward. His wand flew out of his hand and rolled under one of the benches and they both exchanged a look before diving for it.
Their bodies slammed together hard as they tumbled to the floor.
Harrie landed first with a grunt, elbows digging into the carpet. Draco fell on top of her a second later, hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. “Get off, you sack of shit—” she wheezed, struggling beneath him, but he was already reaching past her, fingers grasping desperately for his wand.
“Not a chance.” He growled, practically laying across her as he stretched, chest pressed against her shoulder blades in a way that felt suffocating.
She tried to wiggle, to get any sort of leverage that she could use to slip out from under him, but it wasn't working. His weight pinned her down, legs tangled with hers, breath hot against the back of her neck.
"Stop moving!" He snapped.
That only made her writhe even harder. Her legs kicked weakly as she twisted beneath him, determined to escape. Then, with a frustrated growl, she arched her back sharply, trying to buck him off. The motion shoved her ass up—right into him.
They both froze.
A beat passed. Then another.
Oh.
Oh.
Her eyes widened. That’s why he wanted her to stop wiggling.
Because Draco Malfoy—cold, cruel, smug Draco Malfoy—was hard.
Unmistakably hard
And...big.
Harrie’s jaw dropped in horror, her brain scrambling for a way out of the mortifying situation. She tried to shift again, desperate to get out from under him—but she ground back against him harder than she meant to, feeling the outline of his cock again.
And before she could stop it, a soft moan escaped her lips.
Draco jolted like he’d been burned, shoving himself off her so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet.
Harrie twisted onto her back, breath ragged, wand forgotten on the floor. “I didn’t—” She broke off, fumbling for words. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Yeah, sure you didn’t." He huffed and turned away from her, adjusting his robes.
Harrie stood up with a scoff, crossing her arms over herself as if it would shield her from the humiliation. "Well, don't blame me, you're the one getting off on fighting!"
“It’s not my fault you were grinding on me like a whore.”
Her jaw dropped again. "You tackled me! I was just trying to get out from under you, you absolute pig!"
Malfoy actually laughed. "Oh, please. Don’t think I didn’t hear that little sound you made."
“That was an accident!"
“Accidentally grinding your ass into me and then moaning? Give me a break, Potter.”
Harrie’s face burned hotter than she wanted to admit. Her brain searched desperately for a cutting comeback, but nothing came. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. “It wasn’t a moan, it was a squeal of surprise.”
"It was borderline molestation."
"Oh, fuck you!" Her temper flared hot enough to erase the embarrassment. “Your cock was pressed against my ass, Malfoy! What the hell did you expect, that I’d just sit there like a bloody statue?”
“I didn’t expect you to enjoy it so much.”
Harrie shot him a venomous glare, every nerve prickling. “I would rather hex myself into next week than enjoy anything about you!”
“Is that so?” Draco’s voice dropped an octave, sending a shiver through her stomach. “Funny. Because you sounded awfully convincing. Tell me, if I didn't get off of you would you have done it again?”
Harrie’s jaw tightened, but her chest felt uncomfortably warm, a heat crawling up her neck that had nothing to do with anger. Her pulse kicked harder in her ears too.
She scooped her cloak up from the floor a little too forcefully and wrapped it around herself. “You’re disgusting,” she bit out, hoping he couldn’t see how her hands trembled. “And my perfume is not cheap!”
She didn’t wait for another word. She shoved the compartment door open and stormed out, boots thudding hard against the narrow corridor.