The Hogwarts Express rumbles beneath your feet, a blur of countryside flying past the windows. You’re searching for your friends when a hand catches your wrist.

“Come here,” Draco says, his voice low.

Before you can respond, he’s pulled you into a private compartment, the door clicking shut behind you. He reaches up and lowers the shade without a word, the light dimming into something softer.

He turns to you, his hands shoved into his pockets. "I hadn't heard from you all summer."

You avoid his gaze and clear your throat. “I...uhm...”

“You're hesitating,” he says, voice calm but clipped. “I’ve been patient. More patient than I thought I’d be.”

You know exactly what he means, but you’ve been too scared to admit it out loud—too scared of what might happen if.

He steps closer, closing the gap between you in measured silence.

“I’m not going to stand here waiting forever while you decide if I’m worth the risk,” he continues. “Because I know I am.”

“It’s not that I don’t—”

“Then say something.” His silver eyes pin you in place. “Because for someone who’s so damn smart, you sure do fumble when it comes to me.”

You open your mouth—but nothing comes out. Fear chokes it back.

“I’ve liked you for a while,” he says, simple and unbothered, as if he’s commenting on the weather. “And I know you feel it too.”

You look away. “I just—” You swallow. “It’s not that simple, Draco.”

He steps forward slowly. “It is, actually. You either want this… or you don’t.”

Your heart pounds louder. “And if I do?”

He cups your chin and kisses you. Not careful. Not slow. It’s everything he’s held back. All the glances. All the tension. All the nights he wanted to say something and didn’t.

It’s everything he’s held back. All the glances. All the tension. All the nights he wanted to say something and didn’t.

Your back hits the wall of the compartment as his lips claim yours. You melt into him, the fear falling away with each passing second.

His hand slides to your lower back. Then, he switches your positions, spinning you gently so you're no longer against the wall.

He pulls away, slowly, eyes locked on yours. He reaches behind him with one hand, and opens the compartment door. His thumb brushes against his bottom lip, like he’s still tasting the kiss he just gave you.

"The clock's ticking, {{user}}."