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Author's Note On Progress- Yes, this is the eighth chapter, dear readers, and I apologize for taking so long to write it. ^^; I'd like to say this now... yes, this is shaping up to be another Absurdly-Long-And-Convoluted-Vee-Sempai-Fic(TM). Thus, the actual slash may not be happening IMMEDIATELY, as I am attempting to be realistic. (God forbid. ^^;) Draco may not be in every chapter, but I can assure you he'll be showing up more and more once they get to school. Other characters will be playing major parts, and may have some time devoted to them alone. If this bores you, you can just skip those chapters. But they're going to be there, and I'll warn you of that now. I hope that doesn't bother anyone. And now, on with the story! Let's hope it actually GETS somewhere this time!
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Addendum- Oh, wait a second, no story just yet. I wanted to mention... I do a lot of reading fic parodies, such as "Outline of a Harry/Draco Slash" and "The Ultimate Harry Potter Cliche Catalogue", so as to make sure I avoid those pitfalls. That, and they're funny. But I noticed that the "train scene" is a hideous cliche, and became a little nervous. Because, of course, it won't do to have them all just appear at school with no explanation. Then, I realized something. The scene happens in every book. So, I definitely can't leave it out, making it a necessary cliche, which I hate. So, all I can do is try to do it in an original fashion.
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Platform nine and three-quarters.

To the unsuspecting eye, it was nothing more than a column in between platforms nine and ten, and the families who stood there hugging their children were undoubtably sending them off to boarding school on trains departing from either of those two, staying out of the crowds, or perhaps just leaving them halfway. No Muggle ever saw the children disappear through those bricks with their luggage, and it was only right that it should be that way.

"Mum should be here soon with Ginny..." Ron observed with more than a little exasperation, checking above the crowds with only a little inclination of his neck. "Still won't let the girl come on her own. Too young, she says."

"Well, she had better hurry," Harry reminded. "Or we're going to be late."

"And should you be late, there's no flying car for you to steal this year, Ronald Weasley," a familiar voice said archly from directly behind them.

With the guilty twitch that all teenagers knew so well, wizard or Muggle, orphaned or blessed with five siblings, Harry, Hermione, and Ron whirled about in redfaced embarrassment to face Molly Weasley, her only daughter in tow. Ron and Harry were repentant, at least; Hermione was struggling to hide a smirk. Harry suspected she had been holding herself in check over that incident for years... it had been a bit humiliating.

Mrs. Weasley's face burst into a fond smile as she gazed on the three of them, and it was only a moment before she gathered all of her gangly son up into a tight embrace, squeezing him close. "Have a good year, sweetheart," she crooned, kissing his cheeks, causing a near explosion of every blood vessel in his face. After she had finished with Ron, she hugged Hermione, then Harry. Harry hugged her back obediently, and closed his eyes against the flame of her red hair when her arms lingered about him, holding him tightly to her bosom with the familiar reluctance to release he had felt only that morning from his godfather. It was as if they feared they would never see him again...

And he couldn't blame them for that.

Mrs. Weasley let him go after a few more seconds, then gazed up into his face, eyes a little too bright. "You take care of yourself, young man," she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," he returned with a touch of hopeless regret. "I'll try."

She turned to Ron, fussing with the buttons on his coat. "And you," she continued sternly. "You watch after him, and your little sister. Any harm comes to a hair on her head-"

"And I'll get a Howler big enough to choke on," Ron completed dutifully, eyes twinkling all the same. "Yes, mum."

Mrs. Weasley smiled at him again, then turned back to Hermione. There was the briefest of silences, then she leaned conspiratorially to her ear. "I'd bother him to watch you too, dear, but somehow I think he already is." Then she winked and returned to straightening Ginny's collar. Hermione, predictably, turned bright red and began rummaging in her bag, muttering something about checking to make she had all her textbooks. Harry found a faint smile on his lips. What a long way the two of them had come... It was only fourth year Mrs. Weasley had shunned Hermione for her supposed cheating on Harry with Viktor Krum...

"Well, it's about time you four got going," the redheaded woman said briskly, clapping her hands together and hustling her only daughter towards the column. "Have a good trip, now."

Ginny was the first to go, disappearing swiftly through the brick column, then Ron, then Hermione... Harry paused a moment to give Mrs. Weasley a reassuring smile that ached empty somewhere inside, then took a deep breath and pushed through.

***

The three had been in their chosen train compartment for about half an hour now. The witch had been by with her cart already, and silence reigned, conversation forsaken in favor of candy and textbooks. It was quiet and calm, quieter than Harry had known it for some time... alone with his friends... and his thoughts...

The door to their compartment slid open.

Hermione's eyes rose from her Transfiguration textbook, and Harry and Ron looked up from their heated dispute over the last chocolate frog. Why should this year be any different from any other, after all...?

Yet the cold grey eyes they had been expecting were not the ones that gazed down upon them. Rather than Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle out for their annual Gryffindor terrorizing, the intruder was one Ginny Weasley, her large brown eyes distressed, thin shoulders heaving as she gasped for breath.

"Ginny-?" Ron jumped up, upsetting the candy wrappers that had been resting quite peacefully in his lap. "What's wrong?"

"Have you seen a little box with my name on it?" Her cheeks were red from more than exertion, it seemed. "I- I had it when we got on the train, I thought -" The girl seemed genuinely distressed.

"What was in the box, Ginny?" Hermione asked soothingly, closing her book and putting it to one side. "Maybe your mother packed it with the rest of your things."

"No..." Ginny flushed even deeper, looking at her feet. "I found it on top of my potions book, after we came to the platform... It was a present, but I don't know who put it there."

Hermione giggled unexpectedly, and all three eyed her with more than a little confusion. "You have an admirer, Ginny," she explained with a sisterly smile. "A secret admirer... I wonder who it could be?"

"Mental," Ron muttered under his breath, shaking his head, then turned his attention worriedly back to his sister. "Did anybody bump into you or something when you were coming on? Maybe it fell out on the stairs, did you look?"

"Well-" Her eyes lit up. "Well, a group of Slytherins did bump into me... I didn't think of asking them, should I? I'll go ask Millicent-"

"Good luck!" Ron snorted, shaking his head. "You're never gonna get it from one of those girls! They probably went and handed it right to Malfoy."

"Oh..." Ginny's face fell, and she regarded the floor despondently. "I guess you're right..." Her voice quieted, and she sighed. "I'll just go get something to drink, then... I am rather thirsty from all this running about..."

Harry watched her turn her back, something gnawing deep at his breastbone. Poor Ginny... she had been so afraid of confrontation for as long as he had known her. She had probably thought for a moment that a friendly conversation would get her mysterious gift back. While Draco Malfoy and his supposed henchmen were most likely laughing at her right now. Laughing that they had taken a simple, girlish joy away from the child who had opened the Chamber of Secrets in her first year. A girl who had already nearly suffered what so many would in the years to come. A girl who had looked Tom Marvolo Riddle in the face and survived.

That same face that would kill them all.

Heat choked him, and Harry found himself on his feet, pushing past Ginny and stalking down the carpeted hallway. That same face that would kill them all. Those cold eyes , twisted lips, slick dark hair... laughing... He wasn't going to let them laugh at her, not when she had suffered. Not when she had survived.

He would not let Draco Malfoy laugh at her. Not while he lived.

He pulled back compartment doors and glanced inside, searching for those eyes, that pale pointed face, searching for him with a rabid hunger that gnawed deep. It wasn't fair that he could laugh, when he knew what awaited him. He could ignore what lingered on his horizon and delight in his childish torments as much as he could any other year... It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair, and he wasn't going to stand for it, not now...

Finally, his hands closed on the right door and slammed it back, glasses askew, hair tousled more than usual from his furious dash.

Crabbe and Goyle had already started up, piggish faces screwed up in some attempt at intimidation. Harry spared them no more than a glance, pushing past and through their makeshift wall of substantial flesh. They could try to beat him up later if they wanted, he didn't care much... but as for now...

His forearm found a thin shoulder, then a pronounced clavicle, all his weight thrown against the slim figure he had sought. A gasp of surprise forced its way through Draco's throat, struggling past Harry's wrist, bright grey eyes staring into his.

Harry pinned Draco Malfoy to the wall with his arm and his hips, his weight, a knee knocking slim legs apart and his left hand throwing one arm against the window. Draco struggled almost half-heartedly, lips twisted in an expectant smirk, one thin eyebrow raised as he considered the boy who held him crucified on the side of the train.

"Harry-!" He could hear Hermione from the hallway, her strident voice horrified. "What on Earth are you doing?! "

"I'll tell you what he'd doing, Granger," Draco drawled, his lips moving against Harry's cheek. His voice dropped, falling to a whisper seemingly meant for Harry alone. "He's forgetting how to play by the rules... Of course, when did our dear wonderful Harry Potter ever care about rules? Tsk..."

"Where is it, Malfoy?" Harry snarled, pushing his wrist harder into the blond's throat. "Where's Ginny's box?"

"Oh, of course, he's only assaulting my fair, helpless body in the name of his Weasel girlfriend -" The rest of his words gurgled in his throat as Harry ground his arm deeper.

He leaned in closer, glaring venomously. "Stop messing around," he hissed. "Give it back, Malfoy. Now."

"Mmmm... Been eating chocolate frogs, Potter? Your breath smells heavenly." Draco smirked. "Though I'm sure I'd appreciate it more were I not marinating in it."

"Malfoy..." he growled, shoving him into the wall, pinning his sharp hipbones against the slender thighs, lifting the blond off his tenuous balance on his feet. "Give me the box."

Draco eyed him, then gave a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes. "I can't give you the box if you don't let me down, you great brute." Something flashed in his eyes on those last words, something hot, something that scalded deep within his chest...

Harry felt his arms go weak, and he backed away, letting Draco slide back to the floor. Grey eyes considered him, gazing out of that frail engima, and Harry turned his back, shivering, suddenly flooded with an unwavering, careless heat.

"Here, Granger," Draco said coolly, evidentally handing her the box. "Take it, I've no use for the silly thing anyway."

There was a brief silence, in which Hermione seemed to take her leave. Harry remained staring at the floor, hands limp at his sides. He heard Crabbe and Goyle start towards him, then Draco let out a incredulous snort.

"Oh, so now you two go to do your jobs!" he snapped. "Wonderful!" After another silence, this one shaded with guilt, Draco coughed. "Of course..." His voice had turned snide, sly. "Since Potter himself is doing such a wonderful job in protecting me himself..."

"Shut it, Malfoy." Harry spun and fixed a dark glare on him, feeling returning to his hands as they clenched by his side. Their eyes met, emerald to grey, and locked, if for just a moment... a candle flame fluttering in a gale...

"This year won't be a free ride for you either, Draco Malfoy," Harry whispered, heat rising. "Not while I live."

"I'm not frightened of you, Potter."

Harry stood to his full height, then stalked to the door. And yet, before he returned to the hallway, to the safety of his own compartment with Ron and Hermione...

His hand was on Draco's fine-boned chin, tilting up that pale face, the face that continued to sneer even as the grey eyes flew wide in startled surprise. His thumb pressed deep into his jaw, fingers touching that white skin, tracing the imagined trails of blood...

"Every time you turn your back," Harry murmured, "I'll be there."