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. 23 'This Was His Life'

Draco's day passed swiftly; a blur of classes, planning, homework and odd looks from the still stunned students who mourned the double loss of the school's two most desirable bachelors.

Harry's day passed slowly, dragging endlessly, even though he felt better than he had in days. He lounged, showered and even exercised lightly. House-elves brought him a small breakfast that looked appealing, but that might as well have tasted like ashes for all the appetite he possessed.

The vision hung over his head, like a black and ponderous thundercloud, chasing away any shred of happiness he dared to entertain. His visions had been accurate for the most part; only the minor details were subject to some interpretation, and the sight of Draco falling to Voldemort's spell gnawed viciously at Harry's soul like a rabid hyena.

It chilled him right to the marrow, that his first and only love could be lost, like everyone else this stupid war had taken from him. He paced the suite restlessly, tried to read some of the homework he had to catch up on, and even tried practicing wandless magic with small items on the study desk for an hour.

It was almost lunchtime when he finally decided to make an appearance. He had his wind back, and it would be good to see Draco, if only for a half hour or so. Sitting still hadn't improved his mood, so maybe a little socializing would help. He pulled on his robes and headed down to lunch.

Draco had just settled a minor Slytherin dispute between fourth-years in the hall. Mostly just kids venting some stress about their new duties. Old habits were hard to break, and sniping at each other was one of them. It was annoying and trivial, but Draco was proud of the way he'd handled it. Just a few calm words to each of them, and the promise of some small rewards for doing a good job coaching the first-years, and all had been settled quickly and quietly.

Only a few more hours and he'd be able to see Harry and talk about plans for the weekend. Draco wasn't even paying attention on the way to the dining hall, when he felt his wand leap from his pocket. He turned to find a pair of fairly large Gryffindor sixth-years looming behind him and smirking, one holding his wand high.

"Just look at that, will you? I just pulled the little snake's fangs! Wonder what the wee shite has to say for himself now?" The wand holder was chuckling while Draco started to turn a dangerous shade of red. Then his chum started in.

"No wonder Potter's a Parselmouth, gotta be one to talk down to a sodding snake in it's own tongue! Doesn't look like it's got any bite at all now, though, does it?" The taller of the two poked a finger at Draco, only to have it slapped away by a quick and angry hand.

Draco gave a glare that might have withered flesh on smarter creatures, then spoke softly and clearly. "You don't want to do this. You can't even imagine what will happen to you. This is fun right now, this second, but think about tomorrow, like getting to have a tomorrow. It doesn't have to be like this."

The wand holder cut him off, "It is like this, get it! Gryffindor doesn't need any bloody snakes. Not now, not ever. You're from a pack of death-eating scum and no polishing up is gonna change you. You can ride Potter's wand forever but nobody's fooled by it!"

He handed Draco's wand to his friend and then lunged forward and grabbed Draco by the front of his robes. Draco struggled and tried to pry those hands loose, but he was already a few inches off the floor, dangling and furious at his own helplessness.

Then Harry was there...Draco couldn't even remember where he'd come from, but he was suddenly in the middle of them and Draco was dropped unceremoniously to the floor during the scuffle.

As soon as Draco got his bearings, he saw one boy lying on the floor holding his throat and rasping as he tried to pull in short breaths of air. Harry must have hit him hard in the throat. Harry was sitting atop the other boy's chest and was steadily banging the boy's head into the stones of the floor again and again, growling a few scarcely coherent words. "You...don't...touch...him!"

Harry was scarlet, and his eyes were glazed over with rage. He wasn't stopping and the other boy could be seriously hurt soon. Draco tried to pull Harry off the unconscious body he was on, but when he touched Harry's shoulder, a fist lashed back fast and caught him across the temple, sending him reeling back to the floor, stars dancing across his vision.

This was the scene when Professor McGonagall stepped into the hall. Draco Malfoy tearily begging Harry to stop from a safe distance, while Harry, fueled by bloodlust and blind fury, pistol whipped an unconscious student with his fist. The other student was crawling across the floor, still trying to pull air through a bruised throat, and was wide eyed and desperate for breath. McGonagall's voice tore through the hall like a train whistle.

"HARRY POTTER! STOP THIS AT ONCE! YOU ARE KILLING THAT BOY!" Her wand was already out and ready to intervene by spell if needed.

Harry's rage seemed to slide away, he looked confused and tired. His color was fast fading from brilliant red to no more than a faint flush. He looked at his hand, covered in the blood from the other boy's face, then slumped over in a dead faint.

McGonagall took charge swiftly; applying Spells of Healing to the injured boys, checking Harry to ensure he was merely unconscious and not seriously ill, then sending the one standing Gryffindor to fetch assistance in carrying his friend to the hospital ward.

Harry came to in less than a minute, and McGonagall curtly instructed them to follow her to her office. Harry followed in mute and shamed silence, while Draco hovered near him, half afraid that Harry might fall down again, but still uncomfortable with Harry's silence after having struck him that way. Draco's temple was throbbing...and he suspected he'd by sporting a shiner by the day's end.

They sat beside each other in Professor McGonagall's office while she began writing a few notes in angry silence. When she had composed herself she finally raised her head and looked upon them in crisp disdain.

"I should like to hear from Harry first. What possibly could have moved you to such an act of barbarism? You of all people, Harry. To beat a student bloody and unconscious? Explain yourself this instant."

Harry could barely bring himself to meet her level gaze. "I...I came around the corner. They had his wand and one of them was holding him off the ground. I'm sorry, I really am. I don't remember anything after that...until you shouted at me to stop. Everything was red and I felt like my head was going to split. I didn't mean to go so far, I just had to make them stop. I couldn't let them hurt him." Harry hung his head and sighed. He was too ashamed to say anything more.

"That is unacceptable; to commit such an act, even provoked, is grounds for expulsion! Harry, this cannot go unpunished. Your position is unusual, but I cannot allow this kind of conduct under any circumstances. Be silent and I shall have Mr. Malfoy's account of this." She turned an icy gaze to Draco.

"It's true, Professor. They spelled my wand off me and then one grabbed me. I tried to tell them to drop it, but they had some grudge about me seeing Harry. I was trying to get loose when Harry charged into them."

"Your cheek and eye, Mr. Malfoy. Did one of them strike you?", she asked bluntly.

"Uh...no...not really, I...well...Harry was on one of them and wouldn't stop hitting him. I tried to pull him off. I think he thought I was one of them, he just knocked me back. He didn't mean to hit me."

The words coming from his mouth made it a sudden reality. His Harry had hit him. He'd been almost crazy and he'd nearly killed another student. Was this the man he was in love with? Should he be afraid of his lover? He didn't mean it...a hollow phrase that echoed through every abusive relationship in history, now slipping from the tongue of a Malfoy heir. He was so ashamed he wanted to crawl away and hide.

Harry was stricken; he was white and shaking at the realization of what he'd done. He started to tremble, then bolted upright and fled toward the office's bathroom. The professor was livid.

"Mr. Potter! We are not finished here! Get back in your seat this instant!" Then she heard the noisy evidence of Harry vomiting up his meager breakfast and the ragged sobs that followed. Her irritation flickered and fell. She sighed and turned to Draco. "See that he's alright, I will return in a moment. Be seated and ready to continue to this discussion when I return." Then she stood and left the room, leaving Draco silent and alone in the office.

Draco was of two minds. Mostly he wanted to run to Harry and soothe him, let him know it was alright. The swelling flesh around his left cheek and eye said otherwise. A few weeks ago, he would have cursed anyone with the temerity to strike him, provoked or otherwise. What would it say about him if he ran to the side of a lover who had struck him in anger?

He was still mulling over ugly thoughts like these and scowling...when he realized Harry was standing in front of him, still white faced and looking almost suicidal. He couldn't bring himself to speak. What could possibly said about this?

He was just staring into those red-rimmed emeralds searching for some place to begin, when Harry dropped to his knees and threw himself into Draco's lap. Draco's hands moved without volition, winding themselves through that dark hair and stroking his weeping boyfriend's head. Tears were running down his cheeks while he choked on his own silence, trying to maintain just the slightest dignity in the face of this disaster.

Harry began to speak, rambling and hoarse. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it! Draco, I love you, please tell me you can forgive me. Please! I didn't know it was you; I don't remember anything, you have to believe me. I'd never do that to you, I swear it, love. Please, please don't...don't go. I need you...I...when I saw them, with you...like that...I just went crazy, it was all red and I just couldn't stop."

It was so hard to answer, Draco almost choked on words trying to hold himself back. He couldn't just let this go so casually, no matter how badly he wanted to throw himself into Harry's arms and make this go away.

"I love you," Draco whispered, "...but this can't happen again. I believe you, Harry. Really. Don't ever think I don't love you. I know you love me, too, but...this can't happen again. No one else has to know about this; I can cast a Glamour and it won't show...this time. But you have to understand I will never hide another bruise from you again. I swear I'll move back to Slytherin if I even think you'll hit me again. I won't live like that, not even for you."

Harry shook with relief and grabbed hold of him, half-pulling him off the chair. They sat on the stones of the floor, Draco holding Harry, while the dark haired boy lost control and sobbed his thanks and promises; a perverse mirror of that night at the Pensieve almost two weeks ago. Harry had seemed like the strong one then, it tore Draco in half to need to be strong now.

The word surreal came to him, not for the first time since they'd grown close, his life was surreal. Nothing like the life he'd had before. Everything had been so certain and sure, learned by rote and predictable. Now his every day was a chaotic world of cruel uncertainties. Dizzying highs and crushing lows. Madness, just madness...and Merlin help him but he loved it.

He craved this, even with its pains and sorrows and fears; it made him feel so terrifyingly alive and awake that he had no words that could make it clear and sane. Just emotions that coursed and pounded through him like whitewater. He wanted to hate it, but he couldn't. This was his life, the only real one he'd ever had. He wouldn't surrender it so easily.

McGonagall stepped back into the office and they reluctantly parted and took their seats, daubing their eyes and attempting to make themselves presentable enough to meet her steely gaze. The professor did them the kindness of ignoring their total state of disarray and granting them a few silent minutes to compose themselves. Finally, she uttered a patently false cough, then spoke in a sober and dangerous tone.

"Mr. Malfoy, it is apparent that you have twice been the victim here. There shall be no punishment of any kind for you. I have spoken to Madam Pomfrey and the young men in question will both recover, though one will remain in her care for a few days, owing to a series of concussions. I shall be speaking to the both of them at length regarding their conduct, and I offer you an apology for the conduct of students from my house. I believe that the taking of twenty-five points from Gryffindor for each of them will be sufficient punishment, given that they have already been hospitalized over their foolishness.

I have also had a moment of communication with the Headmaster. Regarding Harry's conduct, there can be no excusing such a serious breach of trust. This is not a Muggle romance novel...beating a student near to death even in defense of a loved one is absolutely intolerable. Fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor for your actions, Mr. Potter. You will attend detention in this office each day after classes. I assume you are well enough to attend classes, since you apparently have no difficulty mauling your classmates.

You shall likwise have no leave of school grounds or visits to Hogsmeade until I decide otherwise, and lastly...if there is another instance such as this, or any conduct that calls into question your judgement, you shall return to Gryffindor dorms and dwell there. Dumbledore agrees that although he granted you permission to reside together, this privilege can and will be taken away if you prove unworthy of it. I suggest you give careful thought to what you've done and develop some self-control. You are dismissed. I shall see you again in this room tomorrow after breakfast."

Draco stood and held a hand out to Harry, who was still sitting in stunned silence, red faced and fairly dripping with self-hatred and shame. Harry took the offered hand like a lifeline and left the room in tow behind Draco, hanging his head like a bashful child. They walked in silence until they reached their room, their sanctum and safe house in Hogwarts, now in jeopardy of being stripped from them if another incident stemmed from their relationship.

Draco took a deep breath. "I have classes to attend. I have to go. Can we talk after I get back?" It was so cursed hard to look Harry in the eyes. That tortured anguish that was spelled out for the world to see was playing across his face in a way that made Draco want to wrap himself around Harry. Harry seemed to have trouble forming words without falling apart, so he nodded pitifully and let go of Draco's hand.

Something more had to be said, and Draco marshalled his thoughts, "We'll get through this, it's going to be okay, Harry. Just get a little rest and when I get back we'll talk about it then, but I love you as much today as I did yesterday. Don't be afraid of anything like that." He leaned up to kiss Harry's cheek and Harry turned just enough to meet his lips instead.

A weak smile was on Harry's face when their lips finally parted, and he finally spoke coherently, if a little hoarsely. "I'll be okay, as long as I have you I'll be okay. I can get through anything as long as I know you love me. We can talk more later, I don't want to put you as far behind as I got this week. We'd both be scratching out homework all night and that's no fun."

Draco slipped into a hug and sighed with relief. Then he was off to class, Harry behind him in the hall, watching every step his lover took with an aching heart and soul.

Draco waited until he was well away before he cast the Glamour that disguised his swelling eye and cheek. He hoped some minor Healing Charms would speed the recovery enough to make it disappear before he had to see his father. That subject still hung unspoken, as the last day's distractions had killed every plan he'd had to speak of it, and now Harry was under suspension and may not be able to join him, even if it was for something very important.

It was a right shit of a day, he thought, and it was only half over! Draco silently offered up a prayer for some tiny improvement in their situation, but as with all prayers, there was no reply to tell him whether it would be granted or ignored.