illicit (dramione)

1

1 September 1997
5th year
London King's Cross Station Platform 9¾

🪄⋆ ୭ .  🚂  . ˙⊹ ⋆ ｡
Draco

It had been a rather splendid morning. The sky was as clear as ever. Draco had the newest copies of every 5th year textbook — signed, in courtesy of his father. He had new robes, carefully sewn and altered in the most flattering way on his body by "the finest tailor in the entire Wizarding World" as his father liked to say in front of house guests. Even Harry admitted that he looked incredibly fit. And he knew.

"I can already hear Astoria shrieking at the sight of you," He had joked. "She jumps into your lap at every chance she gets, I don't know whether to gouge my eyes out or laugh." Draco of course, had scowled at that comment. The only witch he'd want in his lap was not Astoria Greengrass. He preferred someone who wasn't a clueless airhead. He remember almost choking on his morning coffee when he heard Astoria ask out loud, "Do you think muggles can read?" at the Great Hall.

But he wasn't going to release that information to anyone anytime soon, lest he want another embarrassing article published by that good-for-nothing Rita Skeeter circulate Hogwarts again. Blaise, Pansy and Harry still haven't stopped howling every time it was brought up in their conversations.

He did not recall any "lust-filled eyes" or "rose-tinted cheeks" or "quivering lips" when Astoria had hugged him goodbye out of the blue as she left for the Christmas holidays the previous year. Although he knew better than to voice his thoughts out loud, Draco had a growing suspicion that Astoria has been paying Skeeter to publish those fabricated tales.

Not that he minded.

It was the only thing that could get the attention of who he really wanted. Even if it was only a glance, a quirk of the eyebrow, even if he could only grasp for fleeting moments where her attention was all on him instead of that redheaded wanker who couldn't tell his left from right. Draco would take anything he could get.

All in all, the hours before they boarded the Hogwarts Express had been a breeze. Which could only mean that their following fate could only be the result of their horrible luck. The blonde and raven head pair had fell asleep at a muggle café near the station, and woke up at exactly 10:54a.m.

"I'm beginning to think there's some prophecy against us! Why is it that whenever something happens, it's always the two of us?!" Harry yelled, threading through the crowds of people as Draco cursed under his breath, ignoring the glares and stares of every muggle they bumped into. Harry bring Harry had however yelled choruses of "Sorry, sorry! Coming through!"

What a git.

Harry and Draco held onto their suitcases and ran into — or rather, through the brick wall, before landing on their arse. Draco looked up at the clock as Harry groaned next to him. 10:57. Thank Merlin.

"There they are! Fucking buffoons. We almost boarded the train without you!" a familiar voice cut through the noise as Draco stood up, straightening his blazer.

"Pans!" Harry smiled and stood up so fast he almost toppled over. Pansy, with her scarlet lips and short black hair, wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and leaned in for a hug. She had a sly look on her face as she whispered something inaudible into Harry's ear that made him gasp and blush a deep shade of red that ironically, matched her shade of lipstick.

Walking towards them was Blaise who looked revolted at the couple in front of him. "Get a room!" He groaned, which was returned with a sly smirk from the Pansy. "No luck shagging Weasley yet, Zabini?" Pansy taunted.

"It's good to see you, Blaise," Harry smiled, giving a friendly little pat on Blaise's shoulder. "Thank you, Harry," Blaise sniffed. "It's good to know that I still have friends who care about me."

Draco opened his mouth, ready to say something snarky, but stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes shifted and caught a glimpse of her. For a moment it was as if the rest of the world had gone silent and they were the only ones there at the station. He could recognise her anywhere. That exact shade of brown. The face of his midnight fantasies. Her voluminous curly hair. The way she bounced with every step. A satchel slinging across her abdomen, overflowing with books. How she put him on a pedestal every time they crossed paths. He drank the sweet scent of her perfume in — lavender, as his eyes darkened, remembering all those nights he spent alone in his room, slick with arousal as he fantasised about her voice, her perfume, her legs, her eyes, her laugh, her–

"DRACO! GET. ON. THE TRAIN!" someone unimportant to him at this moment yelled, interrupting his thoughts as what had his attention disappeared into the crowd. He whipped his head around to see his friends watching him from inside the train and cursed loudly as he ran as his fast as his legs could carry him and jumped in, barely making it as the doors shut behind him before he slammed down, sprawled across the floor, his limbs pointing in awkward directions.

"Bloody hell," Blaise muttered. "What's gotten into you, mate?"

"Nothing."

"You could've gotten yourself hurt!" Pansy scolded, jabbing her finger at him.

Draco sighed. "Let's just look for an empty compartment." Pansy and Blaise looked at each other and shrugged, before turning on their heels and walked forward, shifting here and there and attempting to steady themselves as the Hogwarts Express rolled forward. Draco looked up and caught sight of Weasley, staring at him with a bewildered look on his face.

"Fuck are you staring at?" He snarled. Weasel made a rude gesture, almost as if taunting him before running away like a madman, looking behind as if to check if he had a hex coming his way. As if he would waste a single second on him.

Only Harry stayed behind with Draco, unmoving, staring at him with an odd look on his face.

"What."

"You fancy Hermione." Harry deadpanned. It was not a question; a direct accusation, but the way he said it had caught Draco off guard that he almost fell over again, for the third time of the day. He stumbled over his words. How un-Malfoy of him. But he hadn't realised that he was... Had he been that obvious?

"What- I don't even- Why would I like your mudblood friend? I barely know her!" Draco immediately spat before a chorus of curse words sounded in his head. Fuck fuck fuck! He yelled at himself internally. Why did you stutter like that?!??!? You moron!

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, you tell me. And don't call her that."

Draco blinked. "I don't fancy her. I swear on my mum."

"Hmmmm." Harry hummed. "Your secret is safe with me, Malfoy. Maybe if I'm feeling nice, I may even put in a good word for you. Our parents are good friends, you know."

And with that, Harry turned and walked away, joining the others, leaving Draco stranded and speechless.