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. 5 'Draco's Salvation'


Harry Potter...Harry Potter...Harry Potter! Every way he turned it was Harry Bloody Buggery Sodding Potter! There was no escape from the awkwardness inflicted on him by that stupid, bumbling git.

Draco's first day after that disastrous morning had been quite acceptable. He didn't give a damn if Potter was in some way responsible for his good mood, he just reaped the whirlwind of contentment it happened to bring. Honeyduke's chocolates and Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks had topped a pretty fair day. Then came night, in his bed...alone, and that put an end to the easy time he'd had of it.

Agonizing dreams plagued him every time his eyes shut, memories taunting him like caresses. His mind's eye played havoc with his nerves every chance it got. Then there were endless surges of lust that left him sleepless and exhausted, no matter how many cold showers or masturbatory sessions he used to dispel the restless hunger gnawing at him.

The next day had been sheer hell. Classes near Potter, Potter in the hallways, Potter in the library...everywhere he went they stumbled into each other. Instead of the traditional Malfoy disdain, he found himself turning to the little fragments of that night that echoed through his mind. Watching Potter's hand as he removed a book from a shelf...he could almost feel their warmth and strength clutching him.

His eyes bored through Potter like diamond drills, searching for any acknowledgement of their night together. Meanwhile, Potter bumbled his way along flustered, stammering to his friends and flushing scarlet at random intervals.

The worst part was when he noticed Draco's gaze and met it. For a split second they were fused, locked on each other's eyes, burning with unspoken thoughts, connected by an almost electric force that snapped as soon they ducked their heads to keep others from seeing these unseemly little displays. And it kept getting worse.

That cheery glow that had afflicted him hadn't dispersed by any appreciable degree, and it had been five whole days since the actual sex. What was wearing Draco down was the effort of maintaining his cool exterior. An effort that grew harder every day.

Crabbe and Goyle were noticing the fact that Draco had been downright pleasant to them lately, not that they minded, and at least they could be trusted with the simple task of not passing rumors.

The other nagging concern was the fading soreness of his backside, which some might find a relief, but Draco found it to be a loss he was unpleasantly aware of. The discomfort was rapidly being replaced by a gnawing hunger that demanded satisfaction, an itch he could never have scratched alone. He'd been horny after the Bulgarian left, but those were the childish longings of an amateur next to this accursed and unholy state of desperate need.

Others were supposed to feel this for him! NOT...oh so very NOT...vice versa. It had been days and they felt like months. Self-discipline was something every Malfoy had in abundance, but that didn't make them any less human, and by Friday, Draco was feeling more human than ever.

As galling as ever was the brutal admission that one man was responsible for his condition. The flashbacks and memories and dreams all reminded him regularly. There was no way to dodge the cruel reality that Harry Potter wasn't a surprise dark horse in the running by accident. He had gone and broken all previous records the first time he'd left the starting gate. The bastard was a champion thoroughbred in a world of duffers and HE HAD ONLY HAD SEX THE ONE TIME!!! Spirit Of Salazar! What would he be like with a little training up?! IT BOGGLED THE MIND JUST TO THINK OF IT!!!

He couldn't believe his own memories. They were vivid remnants of a night of sex so searing that he blushed when he was alone and could afford the luxury. He remembered enough details not to question the results, but he couldn't remember the start. Some tiny shard of Malfoy dignity demanded that he find out what happened. Maybe he was the victim of a charm? Maybe someone else was to blame for this? If not Potter, then someone else, ANYONE else...just for the love of Merlin let there be a reason for this!

Yesterday he had broken down, as the need was too great to endure. Someone had to fill the aching void in him. He'd grabbed Blaise by his tie and dragged him off for a quick and savage shag. Blaise had been a fair shag in the past, for a presumably straight boy. He could always be counted on for a decent emergency shag, even though the only boy he'd ever done anything with was Draco.

When asked about his decision to have sex with Draco, despite being happily heterosexual, Blaise had once famously replied, "It was sex, and it was Draco... when it looks that good, no one quibbles over gender." Even so, this last time had been a disaster, despite a decent showing by Blaise. His hands were in the wrong places, he didn't kiss boys, and his lips never touched any part of Draco, especially not his neck.

Blaise was handsomely hung, but downright average looking after Potter. Nothing he did satisfied Draco, and in the end it had just been a grand waste of time. Perhaps not for Blaise, who had never seen Draco quite so demanding before, but for Draco himself, it was just another bitter nail in the coffin of his sanity.

The icing on the shit-cake that had been his week had been today's Potions class. He'd meant to shake up the order in the Slytherin seating...that part was planned. He'd had no idea he'd wind up directly across from Potter. At that point, it had been too late for a graceful withdrawal, so Draco did his best to tough it out.

Potter had been pure comedy. Fumbling the ingredients, almost removing a finger while cutting herbs, green eyes nervously flickering to his left while sweat beaded on his brow and lip. Then there was the bulge that Draco knew to look for in his robe. That wasn't the product of any charm, unless it was applied hourly! Draco had savored the effect he was having on Harry and he knew it, but he just didn't care.

When the cauldron melted and Snape chided Potter mercilessly, all Draco could do was shake his head and smile while he held back laughter. He hadn't had the heart to throw any clever comments Harry's way. In fact, all he felt was a vaguely amused form of pity. As they left the class, he watched Potter's dejected slump in the hall and threw the poor sap a little encouragement.

Besides, Potter needed to know that he was being too visible. It was time to tighten the screws and get this under wraps properly, before any consequences came their way. The part he hadn't controlled was the look on his face when he glanced back for a second.

Potter had perked up after Draco's whispered words, and for just a moment he'd looked tall, strong and wickedly handsome in his robes. Draco had let his lust show through for just a second, and he knew Potter had seen it. Sloppy, just damned sloppy. If anyone else had seen that there would have been hell to pay!

This just had to be someone's fault, it had to be! If only he could recreate or remember that night fully... WAIT! He could recall that night! Occlumency would pull every memory from him for thorough examination. He could even contain the memories and get on with his life.

A little time with Snape's Pensieve and he would have his culprit for this horrifying condition. Then he could dispense a little Malfoy style justice and be done with the whole sordid mess! Salvation was at hand! He never should have doubted himself...Malfoys always rallied when the chips were down. If need be, he could share this little brainstorm with Potter...after letting him squirm for awhile.

A little traitorous thought stole through his mind as he quietly rejoiced. What would it be like without those memories? Did he really want them gone? The best sex he'd ever had, erased from his mind and lost forever?! And most traitorous of all, the unkindest cut of all...was the bitter thought that just maybe...maybe it hadn't only been about sex. Those memories had been hard to cope with, but not because they were so hot. It was because there was a factor at play that had never been there before, an undiscovered element that was hard to pin down.

The way those hands had touched him hadn't made him feel dirty, just desired, beautiful and treasured. Those lips had breathlessly offered respect, admiration and affection. Last were the eyes, those sweet and terrifying green oceans that looked at him with a need he'd never known.

No malice glinted back from behind those emerald depths, no cruelty laid in wait behind that handsome face. No false pretense, no petty lies and no judgements. The word almost made Malfoy gag, when he wasn't maudlin and alone, and the word was LOVE.

He'd felt loved. Loved in a way that made his heart leap in his chest. Loved not like a child, or an heir, or an asset, or even a favorite piece of ass. He'd felt loved in a way that only his dreams had ever claimed was possible, the way that he was taught was impossible in this world of sycophants and charlatans.

Even if it was only recalled in a few seconds of blurry memory at a time, it was the one thing he both completely feared and yet hungered after most desperately. It might just be possible that something like that was worth keeping, no matter what the cost. But why, oh why, did it have to be Harry Potter?!

Malfoy ground down his disobedient thoughts as ruthlessly as he ran his house. The stakes were too high, and Potter, well, no matter what Draco wanted for himself, Potter was a walking liability. Anything between them was too fraught with peril to even contemplate. It couldn't happen and that was all there was to it. This weekend he'd find Snape's Pensieve and do what had to be done to protect his standing and his family name.

His father had been right, though it galled Draco to admit it. The world left precious little room for love, and if he wanted any safety in this life, it would come from power and influence...NOT from emotional flights of fancy. The court was adjourned, the verdict was final...this madness had to end.