A/N: Alright, Listen up! This fic will contain mature sexual content eventually, so be warned. Oh, and the language content is rather bad as well. Also, in this story, Old Voldy's been killed for good, for there are no such things as horcruxes here. Harry is also slightly wimpy here, so I guess you could say this is slightly OOC for everyone involved. Hope you enjoy, and tell me what you think! Even flames are appreciated, so say whatever you think is appropriate!
Harry was walking down the platform 9 ¾ when Ron appeared seemingly out of nowhere and clapped Harry smartly on the back. Harry winced imperceptibly; Dudley had beat Harry quite soundly right before he had left home for the school year, and the brunet still had several purple and yellow marks all over his body. For a Savior of the Wizarding World, he was treated most unkindly.
He was a savior now, inadvertently saved by muggles, of all things. Voldemort was dead, but he was killed in a rather indirect manner. Harry had researched a poison that couldn't be detected by any wand, Elder Wand or not. Astonishingly, the poison was a common muggle household cleanser, and Snape, the double-agent that he was, slipped it into Voldemort's afternoon tea, therefore assassinating the Dark Lord rather unspectacularly.
The remaining Death Eaters had been rounded up and tried in the Wizengamot. Harry had spoken up for the under-age Death Eaters, and they were released almost immediately. Harry held his fame responsible for their liberation, but he wasn't exactly ungrateful of it either. He was glad that he had freed his fellow classmates, even though they were the cause of his suffering at school. He didn't accuse them of wrongdoing, however, for they were just trying to follow their fathers or save their own lives. Malfoy had actually thanked Harry for his release, a brief note having been sent to him a week after the trial. Harry had held onto the note and its current position was in the back pocket of his muggle jeans.
"Hey Ron," Harry said and beamed tiredly. Ron grinned back and turned at the call of his name, which had been shouted by Hermione, who came running towards them. She panted heavily as she tried to catch her breath.
"Harry, it's so good to see you." she gasped and flung her arms around him hastily, smothering him with her large breasts.
"Hi, Hermione," Harry said awkwardly into her chest. She finally let go of him and sheepishly turned to Ron and gave him a decidedly chaste hug as well. "I'm so sorry Harry, but I'm going to have to steal Ron. He needs to come with me and—" she cut herself off abruptly and turned to Ron expectantly, and he sighed.
"Alright, whatever. We probably won't be able to catch up with you on the train Harry, so we'll see you in the Great Hall, yeah?" Ron looked like he was about to explode with embarrassment, and Harry raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Alright," Harry said slowly, and Hermione enveloped him in another embrace.
"Thanks Harry. We'll see you soon!" she called back over her shoulder with Ron in tow, looking even redder in the face than usual. Harry just laughed and boarded the train.
He sought out an empty compartment and ventured in, heaving his luggage up into the top rack and sat down ungracefully, sighing. The train ride was going to be quite boring without Ron and Hermione to talk to, but he could deal with it. He cast several strong locking charms to keep out anyone who would want to fill his day with idle chatter, and stared quietly out the window until a loud rapping against the window drew his attention. Malfoy stood outside, tapping restlessly against the small screen, and Harry scowled. What did he want? He removed the spells with a wave of his wand and sat back, expecting a tongue lashing from his arch-nemesis. What did I do to deserve the blond's wrath now? his mind asked dryly. Malfoy entered cautiously, as if Harry was going to hex him at any moment, and sat down. Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise. Malfoy scowled.
"Everywhere else is full." he said and stuck out his chin defiantly, as if expecting Harry to expel him from the compartment without a word in edgewise. Harry nodded stiffly and went back to staring out the window.
Malfoy's minions hadn't been so fortunate in the downfall of the Dark Lord. All of them had perished in the aftermath of the rampage the Death Eaters had initiated only moments after the snake-man's death. Despite this fact, the blond looked as calm and as collected as ever. He just sighed and pulled out a small book from his pocket and opened it, settling himself against the opposite wall. As if by an afterthought, he pulled out his wand and cast a couple locking spells, one of which Harry didn't recognize, and a muffliato. Harry raised a brow at him, but he just made a face and kept reading. Harry sighed and rubbed his temples, already getting irritated by the git's presence.
"You know, Potter, it would be a lot easier to rid yourself of a headache by having someone else help you." Malfoy said teasingly. Harry looked over and saw Malfoy glancing up from his pocket-sized book with his eyebrow cocked, a smug expression etched into his features. Harry sighed again and turned towards the prat.
"Yes, well, I suppose you wouldn't help me with that, now would you, Malfoy? You wouldn't want to taint those feminine little hands of yours on my half-blood skin, right?"
It wasn't the best comeback ever, but it was the first one that came to mind. Malfoy bristled.
"You calling me a coward, Potter?" he growled challengingly.
"Maybe I am, Malfoy." Harry spat the last word at him, making the blond's lip curl. Harry smirked and quirked a brow at him. Malfoy scowled and stood fluidly. He stormed over to Harry, who quickly made room for him on the small bench. The Slytherin's hands delved into Harry's hair, tugging and scraping along his scalp as much as possible, causing Harry to bite his lip to keep from wincing.
"Turn around," Malfoy ordered murderously, and Harry complied quickly, not wanting his head to be removed from his torso. Harry twisted to face the window, the Slytherin sitting directly behind him, his legs dangling off the side of the small bench, causing him to look like he was riding a horse sidesaddle. Malfoy's fingers worked their way to Harry's temples, pulling out more than a couple locks of hair as they went. Harry stifled another wince but then the wanker's fingers were on his temples and he almost melted from the onslaught of sensation. The git certainly knew what he was doing, for Harry's headache disappeared and he almost fell asleep under Malfoy's proceedings. Malfoy's fingers went lower and slid in behind Harry's ears, causing him to involuntarily release an unintelligible noise. The Slytherin's fingers kept moving, finding and lingering on special places Harry didn't even know existed. But then he found a spot directly behind Harry's left ear that made his foot twitch. Malfoy saw it move and kept scratching at the exact same place, and Harry watched in horror as his foot kept twitching, as if he were a dog and Malfoy had found that specific spot on a dog's side that made its foot jolt up and down spastically.
"Getting a little excited, aren't we, Potter?" Malfoy whispered into his ear and Harry jumped. Damn it all, this was fucking Draco Malfoy, for Merlin's sake, and Harry didn't have to put up with his shit if he didn't want to. He pulled away from Malfoy forcibly and turned back towards him, not caring about how many strands of hair that still clung to the Slytherin's fingers in the process.
"You wish, Malfoy." Harry spat, trying to recover some semblance of control over himself. He was half-hard, and he hoped to hell that the git didn't notice. How the hell did he not notice that he was getting turned on? And by all people, Malfoy was the one who was doing it? He was his rival, not someone who could just waltz into his compartment and give him a bloody head massage. But you enjoyed it, his mind added traitorously. He forced the wayward thought to the back of his mind and turned his attention back to Malfoy, who was staring at him thoughtfully. Harry blushed, unable to stop himself. Malfoy smirked.
"My turn," he practically purred. He chuckled at Harry's astonished expression. "Come on Potter, did you really expect me to give you a massage without demanding reciprocation?" He chuckled again and snatched Harry's hands in his, causing Harry to jump once more. "Scared, Potter?" he questioned maliciously.
Harry put on a determined expression and reached out to put his hands into the slimy prat's hair. It was as soft as corn silk, much to his surprise. He had expected it to be as greasy as the owner, but surprisingly, it was very soft. Malfoy sighed and turned around, scooting backwards so that Harry didn't have to bend his back at an awkward angle to reach his temples. Harry started moving hesitantly at first, but became more and more confident as he pulled reluctant moans from the throat of his old enemy. Malfoy pulled out his wand to cast a charm that drew heavy green curtains over the window on the door. Harry nodded in silent agreement. No one should see the famous Harry Potter giving Draco bloody Malfoy a head massage. Malfoy leaned back suddenly, and Harry was decidedly grateful that he had brought both his legs up to sit cross-legged on the bench. Malfoy's arse was now pressed firmly against Harry's feet and his head was wedged under Harry's chin. His back was fitted tightly against Harry's chest, and Harry blushed at the close contact. However, he didn't stop his finger's movements. After awhile, Harry felt Malfoy's breath deepen, and he could only guess that the prat had fallen asleep. He sighed and pulled Malfoy closer so he could lean on the window facing the countryside without Malfoy's head sliding down into his lap. Harry soon fell asleep as well, feeling strangely content with his rival strung along the length of the small bench they were sharing.