On the Train

On the Train

I am restless and nervous. I really want to start pacing but that's not possible in the small compartment. Hermione is talking about some new spells and predictions for our classes this year. I only hear every second word she is saying, but as long as I smile and nod at the right moments, she won't notice that I am miles away.

I have not heard from him all summer, which is not surprising since that was our agreement. It has to stay a secret. His life depends on it, and probably so does mine. I can't and I don't want to imagine what his father would say and do. But it is hard to be alone. And now I am scared that he changed his mind. And I've missed him so much.

***

The first thing I did, when I passed the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, was look for him. But he was nowhere to be seen, and I began to wonder if something had gone wrong. Had his father found out? I felt sweat forming at the base of my neck and a small trickle rolling down my spine. The urge to shout for him nearly choked me. I almost cried out with relief when he brushed past me -- and all but dropped the trunk I'd been heaving onto the train.

He snarled an insult about my clumsiness and I replied with something in kind. We are able to do these verbal fights automatically now. Six years of practice have to count for something. At the same time, I watched him for any signs of silent communications that has nothing to do with the words we were saying.

He arched one eyebrow and I tried to understand the expression in his silver eyes, which twinkled at me and sent a bubbly feeling welling up in me. I had to be cautious to not let it spill onto my face.

That was the moment my horrible summer with the Dursleys truly ended.

***

Hermione and I are alone in the prefects' compartment at the moment, and I feel the urge to tell her everything. I think she will be understanding, even though he has insulted her in the past and still does. I am not even sure whether it's really only for cover. But it's not my decision alone to make, and I will keep my promise.

Finally the wait is over. He strolls past us along the corridor, and I make my excuse to Hermione a moment later. The corridor is deserted; everybody is in the compartments catching up with friends. I find him in the niche between two wagons. Hopefully nobody will notice us here. For a moment I can't say anything; my throat has gone dry and my blood is pounding in my ears. I manage to croak out his name. A heartbeat later his lips are on mine, sealing everything else I want to say.

I crush my body to his; the urge to be near him starts to overwhelm me. Sparks of pleasure shoot through me as I press myself even closer against him. I moan against his mouth. The urge to get his robes off him strengthens, the urge to feel skin against skin. He must realise my intentions because he grabs my wrists and pushes me against the wall. "Don't," he hisses. Suddenly I hear footsteps and the noise of unoiled wheels. The witch with the Snack Trolley will be here in just a minute. She must have seen dozens of students snogging in the corners of The Hogwarts Express on each train trip, but we would provoke more than a raised eyebrow if she found us. My silver-eyed boyfriend lets go of my wrists and draws himself apart from me. I whimper. I can never help myself. I am always noisy.

He puts a finger against my lips. I open my mouth and start to flick my tongue against it; flushing, he shuts his eyes briefly. Sending a disapproving look in my direction, he then leans forward and whispers in my ear, sending shivers through me. The brief brushing of his cheek against mine and the tingle of his blond hair have to be deliberate. As deliberate as the small bite at my earlobe. And then he saunters away, not without sending a last look over his shoulder that melts me on the spot. My knees are like jelly. I close my eyes and sag against the wall.

The worried voice of the Snack Trolley witch startles me out of my stupor. "Everything okay, lad?" I mumble something unintelligible and make my way back to my compartment. I feel sweaty, ready to jump out of my skin with the need to touch and to be touched.

My face is probably flushed and my lips are probably bruised and I am trying to get my breath back. Fighting it under control takes all my strength as I go back to my compartment. I can't risk being questioned. But I can't help a small smile. His words are still working their magic on me. "Astronomy Tower, tonight."