All I Ever Wanted

DISCLAIMER: Warning! I make no claim to any property of J.K. Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play. Further Warning! This story...and likely any I ever write...are dominated by gay themes and characters. That's how it is, if this in any way makes you uncomfortable...do not read further.

"All I Ever Wanted" chap 22 'Cruel Portent'

Draco hit the floor in a heartbeat, holding Harry's face and checking for a pulse. It was rapid and thready, the eyes beneath his lids were darting back and forth. It was when his palm touched Harry's scar that a burning pain shot through Draco's hand and he pulled away, only to find a tiny raised welt of seared flesh, forming a near perfect Z across his palm.

Harry was still half dressed, and feverishly hot everywhere that Draco touched him. Draco's heart was pounding like a bass drum and panic was stealing up on him. A million thoughts clambered for attention as he pulled Harry's body up onto the bed and laid him out with a pillow beneath his neck. Then Harry began to shake, just the arms at first, then the convulsions started in full swing and Draco had his arms full of thrashing limbs.

The thought of Harry biting through his own tongue struck him and he balled his fist and shoved his hand between Harry's teeth in an instant, frightened beyond the ability to notice the pain of teeth sinking into his flesh. One of the thrashing arms elbowed him in the side of the head and his world was a starry night for a second, then he was back in control, flung bodily across Harry, pinning his lover to the bed while he convulsed.

At that very moment, Ron and Hermione walked through the door. Draco was wrestling a half naked Harry with all his might, and didn't see them until he heard Ron's yelp behind him.

"WHOA! Gods, you two, take a cold shower...we can come back later!" Ron was flushing a fine scarlet from head to toe and was already turning around to leave.

"WEASLEY! GET IN HERE AND HELP!" Draco yelled between dodging limbs.

Ron found a new shade of red, previously unknown to man. "But...but...I'm not gay! Really!" Ron squeaked, stepping backwards out into the hall.

Draco turned his head to look at them and they saw tears in his eyes. "HARRY'S CONVULSING! FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN...FUCKING HELP ME!"

Then Hermione was there, chain-casting spells without break, soothing, healing, diagnostic, cooling, one after another. In seconds, the body underneath Draco was breathing softly, still and calm. He pulled himself off of the bed, holding his burned and bitten hand gingerly.

"Thank fucking Merlin you showed when you did. I'd no idea what the fuck just happened...is he alright?"

Hermione started examining Draco's hand while she answered. "The burn, here, this one like Harry's scar...it was a vision. Since he learned Occlumency, Voldemort can't enter his mind, but the prophecy that binds them still brings visions. Not usually this bad, but if his scar was burning, it must have serious. He's alright, he'll come to in a bit and be fine in an hour, maybe just a wicked headache to show for it, but as soon as we know what the vision was, we have to tell Dumbledore. If it was that bad, it could be something we need to act on immediately."

"That's all? I thought he was bloody dying over a vision? I swear I'll kill him as soon he's well!" Tears were streaming down Draco's cheeks, and in front of people other than Harry at that!

"Fucking Voldemort! I can't come home without risking this happening until that abyssmal bastard is dead? Where's the sign up sheet? I'll queue up and do whatever will kill that fucking cancer stain the fastest! I'm not going through this every time that pathetic fuckwit has a new idea!"

Draco was almost ranting as the stress and fear burnt off him. He collapsed onto the bed beside Harry, breathing short fast breaths, trying to calm himself.

Hermione was about to speak, when Harry sat bolt upright eyes wide and gasping for air. His eyes darted wildly, and when they settled on Draco, he lurched forward and wrapped Draco in a bear hug.

Draco was too shaken to hear the whispered mantra at the edge of Harry's lips. "...can't lose you... can't lose you... can't lose you." He couldn't shake Harry loose at all, his grip was like iron.

Hermione kept repeating things like 'it was just a vision Harry' and 'it's alright', but it took almost a minute before anything sank in. Finally, Harry let go and slid back onto the bed gasping, then leaned over the side and vomited noisily. Ron headed for the bathroom for towels and Hermione rattled off a few more Soothing Spells to bring Harry around.

Draco was still holding his hand when Harry focused his eyes on his lover and croaked a few words.

"I...I'm sorry. Vol...Voldemort...killing...".

Draco put a finger in front of Harry's mouth and told him to hush until he had his wind back. Ron had finished cleaning up the floor by the bed and had thrown the towels into the bath.

"Oi, mate, I'll fetch Dumbledore. He ought to know whatever's up right off. Be back shortly." Harry nodded and closed his eyes. His face was screwed up in pain from the backlash headache that was kicking in fast.

Though Harry didn't see it, as Ron left, he looked at Draco's worried face with a new sense of respect. It's one thing to be told your chum is shagging his worst rival, it's another thing to see said rival exhausted and hurt and scared because his boyfriend is sick and convulsing.

The point had been driven home as hard as could be. Draco Malfoy loves Harry...really, desperately loves him. As scary as it may have been, that thought rang in the back of Ron's mind all the way to Dumbledore's office.

Draco got Hermione's agreement on casting Harry's overdue Energizing Spells, and let them flow into Harry, bringing much needed color back to his cheeks. Then he fetched the potion and Harry drank without complaint, but wrinkled his nose in disgust just the same.

It took a few minutes, but Harry finally got his voice under control and started to apologize again.

"Voldemort...I think I saw Hogsmeade; I heard people screaming all around me but I couldn't see them. I was walking down the street toward him, but it was so dark I could barely see anything but him ahead of me. He was just laughing, like nothing I could do would touch him. He knew people were dying all around and he just laughed...then...he...I...well, I blacked out. I can't remember."

Draco caught a hint in Harry's voice he recognized well from others who lied poorly. He knew there was something he wasn't sharing, but kept his silence until they had some time alone.

Hermione Levitated Harry's trunk in from the corridor and settled it near their dressers. Then she settled into the chair by the study desk and started quizzing Harry on his exact health.

Aside from the headache Harry seemed fine, which was astonishing to Draco, given that his lover had been unconscious and convulsing only ten minutes before. Most visions did not hit him this hard, merely incapacitating Harry for seconds or minutes at most, but convulsions were something new and worrisome, even if they were listed as possible side effects of extreme visions and prophetic dreams. It did suggest that whatever Harry had seen held a high chance of coming true.

Dumbledore entered in a whirl of robes, Ron in tow behind him. "Ah, Harry, good to see you looking better, I had feared the worst, but the ministrations of your friends seem to have done more than well by you."

Despite his age, he still seemed to tower over the entire room, an enormous and ebullient figure of confidence and majesty. He turned to Draco next.

"Please don't worry, my dear boy, our Harry has endured far worse than this on occasion and come through just smashingly. Let's concentrate on the substance of this vision as quickly as we can, then perhaps we can give you some time alone, hmm?"

Hermione suddenly coughed...giving Dumbledore a serious glance full of unspoken imperatives.

"Ah, yes, Miss Granger. I know perfectly well that not everyone here is a member of the Order. These are unusual circumstances however. I think perhaps an oath may be called for, that is...assuming Mr. Malfoy would wish to join us?"

Draco sat up, looked very soberly at the assembled faces and made his decision in a record three seconds. "Yes, absolutely yes, anything to put that murderous prick in the ground. Name your oath, I'll take it...if it gives me a chance to kill that bastard and get our lives back."

Harry exploded off of the bed, green eyes blazing furiously. His veins actually bulged dangerously at the temple and along the cords of his throat! He pointed his finger at Dumbledore and with an expression that bordered on sheer madness he bellowed at the old man.

"NO! NOT HIM! I FORBID HIM TO BE INVOLVED IN ANY OF THIS! IF YOU PUT HIM IN DANGER I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL FUCKING TAKE HIM AND LEAVE YOU TO FIGHT THIS ALONE. TAKE YOUR PROPHECY AND YOUR WAR AND SHOVE THEM IN YOUR ASS, DRACO STAYS OUT OF IT!"

Dumbledore and the rest were stunned into utter silence by the outburst from Harry. Harry looked at them each with eyes that still seared at a glance, then spoke again, this time with an icy calm that just barely hid a nearly blind rage.

"I'm sorry, but I mean it. No one puts Draco in danger. NO ONE! I'm...I'm not losing him. I'll do what I have to, but he isn't any part of this. I swear I'll walk if I hear anyone is even thinking about putting him where he can get hurt!"

Draco spoke up, indignant, but still scared by the ferocity in Harry's tone.

"I think I have a say in what I do or don't do." He held up his scar-seared and bitten hand. "I think I'm already involved Harry. I'm not saying I want to throw myself to the wolves, but I will NOT be left in the hall every time you discuss anything that relates to your future!" He held his chin up, challenging Harry quite directly.

Harry seemed to deflate instantly. He looked desperate and terribly on edge.

"Alright...okay...compromise. You take an Oath of Loyalty to the Order, but under no circumstances are you to be in any battle. You can counsel, help, heal, support...anything, but please, please, please...just don't risk yourself. If I lose you...well...I don't think I can handle it, I think I'd fold up and die. We have to win, so we can't risk you! You're everything to me, do you understand?!" Harry was bleary-eyed and clearly overwrought.

Dumbledore broke in, "Harry, I want you to relax. No one is suggesting that Draco become a footsoldier in this. I think his talents lie in his mind, which is very keen indeed. He would serve the Order just as well in counsel, though I daresay that I expect he could hold his own quite well in a duel of wizards, at least as far as I have heard." The last was said with a broad wink to Draco. His merry tone shook the last of the grim shock from the room.

Draco felt appeased, although he still took umbrage at Harry's abrupt assumption of command over Draco's life.

"Right, swear me in, then. I'll serve anyway you'll have me. Harry's life is my life, we win or lose together anyway, don't we?"

It was grim but true. The stakes of the game were suddenly clear to him. Harry could die, and if he did it would be the ruin of Draco. The same was true for Harry. The loss of Draco would make fighting on impossible. A broken spirit could not stand against Voldemort at strength. For better or worse, they stood as one and might well fall as one.

Dumbledore administered the oath before Harry's watchful and worried eye. Hermione and Ron both congratulated Draco heartily when it was sworn and binding, welcoming him officially to the Order of the Phoenix.

The discussion turned to Harry's vision, and every detail Harry could provide was picked apart. It seemed that, if his vision was accurate at all; an attack would take place in Hogsmeade, likely in the streets themselves, at night, and with Voldemort in attendance looking for Harry. When this might take place was anyone's guess.

When the last of the matter was laid to rest, Hermione and Ron wished them both well, both giving Harry AND Draco a hug (though Ron's hug for Draco was so stiff as to be nearly mechanical), then heading back to Gryffindor after promising to stop over for supper some other time.

Dumbledore seemed to keep prodding Harry for details that may have slipped his memory, but Harry was adamant that he had shared all he could. At last Dumbledore chose to leave, a pained expression on his face, and when Dumbledore looked worried, it scared Draco badly. He gave Harry a bit of time to relax while he finished a few papers for his next day's classes.

Harry had been silent since Dumbledore had left; he seemed to be feigning sleep, but poorly. Draco had caught Harry staring at him with a look that bordered on despair.

They'd said nothing to each other, until Draco crawled into bed, nervous, angry and afraid of this silent and brooding side of Harry that he barely knew. At the first touch, Harry unfolded around him and pulled him as close as possible, so close it almost hurt.

He could feel Harry's tears against the back of his neck, and Draco reached for the hands that clutched at him so feverishly and took them in his own. It had to be asked.

"I know you didn't tell them something...Harry...I love you... what did you see?" The body against him stiffened.

Harry held his silence interminably, then with a breath and an aching pause, he finally spoke.

"I saw him hurt you. I think he killed you. If you die...I know I'll lose. I can't lose you." His voice was tight, constricted, and his body was beginning to shake from emotions he was holding in only with great effort. "Only I can kill him, and he'll kill everyone, destroy everything, if I don't. If he kills you...it's all over. Everyone dies and suffers if I fail. I...can't...lose...you."

Draco soaked in this newest revelation. This was terrifying, as the curling hairs on his neck and the gooseflesh on his arms and legs gave testament. One of Harry's extreme, prophetic, 'likely to come true' visions had shown him dying at Voldemort's hands? Was this the price for being in love with Harry? Was this some freakish karmic fate to be delivered whenever he felt too safe or secure? Harry needed him, the tension behind him was palpable.

"Harry, I'll be fine. You warned me, I'll stay away from battles and be fine. Nothing will happen to me, you'll kill the Dark Prat and come home and we'll live happily ever after, you'll see. I promise." He meant it too.

No Slytherin worth his salt would walk into certain death, so as long as he let his Slytherin side guide him, he'd be safe, Harry would win, and the wizarding world would celebrate. It had to be that way. As they drifted into a nervous slumber tinged with fear and wisps of nightmare, that mantra rolled through Draco's mind over and over again.

When Draco woke, the room was still and quiet. Draco hadn't budged for over an hour, still wrapped in Harry's arms, refusing to break the spell of tranquility the morning brought over them.

When Harry finally showed signs of waking, Draco turned in his arms and burrowed his face into Harry's neck. Harry sighed and stroked the fine locks of blonde hair, murmuring sleepy words of love all the while.

They stayed that way for perhaps an hour, until Draco knew he had precious little time left before he needed to dress and go. He rose with reluctance, and Harry watched him in earnest silence while he dressed and spelled himself clean.

He cast the prescribed spells and watched Harry down his potion, then kissed him despite the horrid aftertaste of the magic brew he'd just imbibed. He leaned his head forward and rested his brow on Harry's.

After a second he whispered, "I'll always come back to you, I'll always come home. I love you."

Harry smiled wanly. "I love you, too. Just be careful, love. I feel better, really. See you soon." Then he tilted his head and planted a long kiss on Draco's neck, making Draco's toes try to curl right through his shoes.

They finally seperated, and Draco left with one last look back at his bedridden lover, winked to him while smiling, then trudged out to meet the day.