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. 28 'On The Ropes'


Draco and Harry careened their way to the bottom of the hill, covered in grass and laughing like children. Draco spat out a small tuft of grass and leaned over to Harry, climbing astride him and then contentedly laying on his chest.

He could hear Harry's heartbeat, strong and even, and feel the rise and fall of Harry's chest as he breathed. This was the warmth and closeness those early dreams had teased him with. Everything he had endured was for this. This was paradise. Harry's hands were in his hair, stroking and caressing Draco in that gentle way that spoke of awe and respect.

"Draco, this is the most beautiful place I've ever seen. I can't believe you grew up here. Did you mean what you said just a minute ago? You know everything I have is yours, too, right?" Harry's voice hinted at how awed he was by the enormity of the manor and its grounds.

"Really, Harry. Like I'd hold out on you. I wanted you to see this because I knew you'd like it. I hoped maybe you'd get a look and think about living here with me after we graduate. I still want to see the world with you, but until the war is over...this would be nice, wouldn't it?" Draco traced his finger delicately under the collar of Harry's shirt.

"This would be perfect. Not that I didn't want to find a place of our own, that would have been nice, too, but I think this place is what I used to think heaven would be when I was little. C'mon...I wanna see more before we see your mum."

Harry rolled over quickly and pinned Draco underneath him. Harry kissed him along the line of the jaw, stopping to give the tiniest of bites to his throat as he worked his way to Draco's lips.

Then he jumped up suddenly and shouted, "If you want any more you're gonna hafta catch me first!" Harry darted off down the lawns. Draco leapt to his feet and ran after, zig-zagging through the hedges and jumping over the bordered beds, until at last, breathless, he cornered Harry around an impressive and old piece of statuary.

"Have a heart, love," Draco panted, hanging onto the edge of the statue while he caught his breath. "It's been an awful day 'til we got here. I've still got to clean up before I see my mum, and now I'm all sweaty and completely knackered. Lots of help you are." Harry came directly to him with a look a look of concern furrowing his brow.

"I'm sorry, love. I just got over excited. Didn't mean to...OOOF!". As soon as Harry was in range, Draco tackled him solidly, sending them both to the ground.

"There. You're caught!" Draco laughed triumphantly, "To the victor goes the spoils!" Despite Harry's muffled attempts to cry foul, soft lips eventually drowned any hint of protest.

The scent of earth, grass and flowers was all about them, and the wind was just a faint zephyr that tousled hair every so often. The only sounds were those of insects and small animals, and the rustling of a few leaves. Here there was no tension or conflict, no desperate urge to relieve themselves of the day's tension, here there was peace.

They had no need to go any farther, the moment was too pure, too pristine to be sullied with lust. They kissed and curled and kissed again; lost in a world of two made one, innocents in a garden, this time too enraptured in each other to reach for any forbidden fruit.

The consequence, of course, was their complete failure to notice the wind slowly picking up, or the heavy grey clouds massing overhead. Only when a sudden shower began to drench them both did they peel themselves apart and begin running for the front doors of the manor, both cursing the fickleness of nature as they ran. It had still been a long way to the manor doors, and by the time they clambered into the entryway they were thoroughly soaked.

Draco already had his wand out and was casting Drying Spells one on top of another. Harry got into the spirit, and started using the few Cleaning Charms he knew well to remove the mess they had made of themselves rolling about in the grass.

The house-elf that arrived an instant later inquired after their needs, and Draco requested a late lunch be brought to the sitting room for them. Harry was amazed when, a minute later, they walked into the sitting room to find a feast waiting for them. No simple fare here; everything in front of him looked like food he had only seen on the telly at the Dursleys.

Most of it couldn't even be named by Harry, he just had no experience with gourmet food, and the table settings and silverware choices arrayed before him were as intimidating as hell. Mostly, he just watched what Draco did and tried to follow suit. Within minutes, he ceased to care and reverted to near barbarism, since everything on the table was delicious beyond his wildest dreams.

Draco informed Harry that his mother always needed time to prepare herself for visitors these days, and that they could relax a little and take their time. The subtle implication that Harry should slow his eating pace a bit was not missed in the slightest, and Harry found a pace that allowed him just a little more opportunity to chew, instead of inhaling the food like a living vacuum.

The way his lover appreciated so many simple things struck Draco suddenly. He had taken for granted the trappings of wealth and comfortable privilege. When he watched Harry nearly swoon with every bite, he almost felt guilty for being so comfortable all his life...while Harry had starved in a cupboard.

Harry's ebullient love of the outdoors and wide spaces was born of his childhood captivity and privation. Likewise his excitement over presents, both simple and costly. When Draco tried to look at the world through Harry's eyes, everything seemed new and wonderful for the first time since he himself was a small child.

Draco's musings were suddenly interrupted by the Apparition of an apologetic house-elf, informing him of his mother's wish to remain in bed and receive her son and his guest there. This was a major blow to Draco's enthusiasm.

He adored his mother, and she had never refused to entertain company in less than full style before today. Harry caught the look of worry that crossed Draco's face, cleaned the last morsels from his plate and made use of his napkin.

"Would you rather see your mother alone? It's okay if you want...there's so much to see you could send me on a tour with a house-elf for a guide and I'd be busy for the whole day."

Harry sounded sincere, and Draco was tempted, if only to reduce the tension he felt about his mother taking company still abed. Still, he really wanted Harry to meet Narcissa Malfoy. He hoped his mother would find some common interests with Harry and feel comfortable. His mother had always loved the gardens as much as Harry did. It would more than make up for the disaster with his father earlier.

"Don't worry, I'm sure she means you're welcome, she's just been very tired these last few months. Some time with company is exactly what she needs. Let's go, the house-elves will clean up all this."

Trying to look as happy and confident as he could, Draco stood and led Harry through a maze of halls and stairs. Harry gawked the entire way. Magnificent portraits in ornate frames, objects d'art on small stands, even the floor stones were costly and polished to a shine that reflected like mirror.

Everything here represented the accomplishments of a family of means dating back nearly a thousand years. Tapestries worth hundreds of Galleons, candelabra and wall sconces of burnished gold, even the damn rugs were of the kind that only graced the feet of royalty. All this and more Harry saw as he followed Draco through the Manor.

Harry pointed to one painting in particular. "Draco, I think I've seen that one before, in a museum...are you sure this one is real?"

"Oh...heh...that...well, Mum liked the one in the museum so much that father had it stolen and replaced with a forgery. This is the real one. Don't look so shocked, it happens more than you'd think. He offered to buy it, they said no. If you think Lucius was ugly today, you should see what he's like when someone tells him no!"

Draco had never considered the notion that Harry might disapprove of a few of his family's questionable, but non-political, acts. It was kind of embarrassing, now that he gave thought to some his family's conduct over the centuries. The Malfoys had cultivated their power by means that were often shrouded in secrecy, but the way they wielded that power had sometimes been childish and outright criminal. His train of thought was derailed by the arrival of the door to his mother's suite, a house-elf already waiting to usher them in.

They entered into the grand bedroom suite that belonged to Narcissa Malfoy to find soft chairs made ready for them beside the bed. The room was lit well by large windows and a few enchanted lamps, and was decorated subtly in dark blue, black and occasional very dark green items.

In the midst of an enormous canopied bed lay Narcissa, a pale blond flower in a tranquil and unruffled sea of blue. Narcissa was a young woman, not yet even 40 years of age, and though she had held her looks handsomely, she seemed terribly frail and almost translucent. High cheekbones, that were once a source of such pride, now only made obvious the darkness under her eyes and the wan pallor of her face. Harry'd had no idea what to expect, but he guessed from Draco's soft gasp of surprise that his mother had not looked this way the last time he'd seen her.

Her voice, though, was calm and clear, if a trifle soft. "Ah, Draco, my son. It's so very good to see you, please sit down...and offer a seat to your friend."

Draco cleared his throat nervously. "I'm just glad I could I could get away to see you. Mother, I'd like you to meet Harry Potter."

Harry stepped forward to receive Narcissa's hand and quickly bowed and kissed the back of her hand. She looked pleasantly surprised and smiled sincerely.

"The Harry Potter? It truly is a pleasure. I'm so terribly sorry I couldn't meet you in the drawing room proper. I get so tired these days, it's just a poor day for me, I'm afraid. You have my sincerest apologies."

"Please just call me Harry, ma'am. I should tell you that it doesn't matter what room I met you in, this is still the most beautiful home I've ever seen, and you are still a very gracious hostess."

Harry was really putting his best foot forward. He was terribly uncomfortable with the sudden realization that this majestic and dignified woman almost certainly must know what he was up to with her only son.

"What an astonishingly polite boy you are, Harry. Obviously my son has finally developed a taste for something more worthwhile than informal trysts. I know he would never introduce me to any acquaintance of his unless it was a matter of great seriousness to him."

Draco was flushing pure scarlet and trying to melt into his chair. Most amusing was that Narcissa knew it and winked conspiratorially to Harry. She was deliberately taunting Draco!

"Mother! Please! That's so...so..." Draco was out of glib remarks, and his mother jumped in to fill in the blanks with a kind of mischievous glint in her eyes that could just as easily have matched the one Draco so often had.

"So what, sweety? So scandalous? Draco, my darling child, you cannot imagine how long I've waited for you to put aside your father's foolishness and find a real friend. I've hated seeing you alone for so long. You're still young, but you're almost a grown man. It's long past time you found someone worthy of you...and you certainly seem to have...hasn't he, Harry?" She seemed to be becoming more animated and cheerful as the conversation continued, smiling to Harry and arching an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

Harry was seated and wiping his palms on his slacks. This was not how he had imagined Narcissa at all. Perhaps blunt sincerity would be the best approach.

"Well, I know it's very sudden, but I can't imagine wanting to be with anyone else. Your son is the most wonderful person I've ever known. I'm just glad I found him, after all, for a long time we really didn't get on well."

"I believe I recall that. You know, when Draco was twelve, your name was on his lips almost every minute of every day all summer long, usually followed by language I had to insist he not use in my presence."

Narcissa's sly glance caught the sight of Draco looking like he needed to flee the room at any second. She looked back to Harry. "How fortunate that he put aside the rivalries of childhood. I rather suspected his irritable fascination with you was borne of something other than pure hatred."

"I wasn't really any better than he was about it. Some of the things I used to say about him I'll never repeat in polite company. I'm just sorry we didn't come to our senses sooner."

Harry was really beginning to enjoy this! He'd never seen Draco 'on the ropes' of social agony before! Narcissa was probably the most entertaining adult he'd ever met! Harry couldn't resist taking a good shot at Draco now.

"Speaking of the past, Draco desperately wanted me to ask after old family photo albums. He insisted I take at least a little time to acquaint myself with some his childhood here."

Draco's eyes glinted panic and irony-laden bitterness. He stood, thoroughly flushed, and managed to squeak out an excuse to visit the bathroom. As soon as he left, Narcissa leaned forward with some difficulty. Harry leaned closer out of consideration.

"Harry, my son is everything to me. My first impression is that you care for each other very much. I know you wouldn't be here now if he didn't hold you dearer to him than anyone else. Please be good to him and patient with him. Draco has endured so much of his father's bitterness that I feared he would he never let himself be happy. I only ask that you be gentle with my only child, even when he is stubborn or foolish. I know you're a good boy just by the look of you. You will do this for me, won't you?"

"Yes ma'am," Harry said haltingly, still reeling from this sudden dropping of all pretense. "I didn't want to say anything disrespectful in front of you, but I love Draco very much. I know some of the things that your husband has said to Draco lately...and he was just wrong. You'd be so proud of the things he's doing at school right now, and I'm proud just to be beside him. I promise I'll look after him. I won't let you down."

Narcissa patted his hand and leaned back to rest. "I'm sure you won't, Harry. Lucius wasn't always like this, you know. There was a time when he cared passionately about so many things...and he adored Draco more than power or wealth or influence. I know it's hard to see for you, but when I think of him, I always remember the man I married." She chuckled quietly. "That reminds me, I shall have the house-elves prepare the family albums for viewing the next time you come. I do so love making Draco squirm. He tries so hard to be proper that he robs himself of any sense of fun. Just like his father at times. Don't ever let him stop laughing, Harry. I wasn't paying attention and something wrong crept into Lucius before I knew it." Suddenly she seemed quiet and pensive, full of unspoken regrets.

Draco stepped back into the room, looking vaguely ill, and made his way to his seat. "I'm so glad you and Harry are getting on alright. My apologies for my absence, Mother."

Narcissa smiled that wicked playful smile again. "Oh, Draco, we're getting on just fine. We were just discussing plans for your next visit. I think tea and biscuits in the drawing room would be nice, especially with all the old family albums out for viewing, don't you agree?"

Draco suddenly thought of Pandora's Box...once opened there was no closing it; the evil was out and he'd started it, and there was nothing left to do but ride it out. He looked at Harry with a silent plea for mercy, then launched back into conversation with his mother and the man he loved.